Long After Dark Page 10

  “Hello?” the voice said, louder this time and obviously annoyed.

  Cautiously, he reached for the knob, turned it and opened the door just a crack, leaning close so all anyone would be able to see of him was the left side of his face. A middle-aged woman stood before him.

  “Harry, we need to talk, right now.” Her voice was laced with a mixture of barely contained rage and tears. “Right goddamn now.”

  He knew the woman but couldn’t place her. “I’m sorry…I don’t…”

  “It’s me.” She sighed and leaned closer. Her hair was a tad long for a woman her age but worked, particularly since she wore it up and had wrapped an attractive silk scarf around her forehead. Her brown eyes had probably been quite striking when she was younger, though they had since turned glassy and bloodshot. She wore quite a bit of makeup, including generous amounts around her eyes and a pink glossy lipstick that matched her waist-length belted raincoat.

  Finally, it clicked. He hadn’t seen her in months (had only met her a few times, in fact), and she looked a lot different than the last time he’d seen her. She’d changed her hair color from its natural red to a softer auburn, and the style itself was longer and had a purposely mussed look.

  What the hell is Aaron Searcy’s wife doing here?

  “Gloria,” he mumbled. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you.”

  “You’re awfully pale,” she said as if she’d only just then noticed him there.

  His nose clogged. “I…uh…I have the flu. I’m a little hazy, sorry.”

  “There’s some terrible stuff going around, a lot of people are sick.” She wet her lips with her tongue and her expression softened. “I know I probably shouldn’t have just appeared like this, all emotional and everything, but we need to talk. It’s time we talked.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Do you think I’d be here if it was?”

  Still mostly hidden behind the door, Harry let the baseball bat rest in the corner between the windows and the wall, then revealed a bit more of himself. The fresh air felt colder than it had just moments before. “What’s this all about?”

  “Can I come in? I don’t want to talk about it on your front step.”

  “This isn’t the best time, Gloria, I really don’t feel well.”

  “Yeah,” she said, “me either. How could either of us feel well with this going on?”

  “With what going on?”

  “You don’t have to play stupid with me, Harry.” She brushed a renegade strand of hair from her eyes. She’d had a recent manicure, her fingernails painted a light pink. If nothing else she was color-coordinated. “Are you going to let me in or not?”

  “You didn’t happen to see somebody out there just now when you pulled up, did you? Like a workman type, a really pale guy in black overalls dragging what looked like a big piece of pipe?”

  Gloria stared at him as if he’d spoken in tongues. “No. Why?”

  “I thought I—nothing, I—I thought somebody was out there earlier.”

  “He must’ve left before I got here,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “Let me in, Harry. You know as well as I do we need to talk about this.”

  With a defeated nod he stepped back and opened the door so she could enter. As she swept past a scent of sweet perfume and liquor wafted about in her wake, pungent enough for him to detect even with such limited breathing capability.

  Gloria hovered around the beginnings of the den, pacing around like a madwoman uncomfortable in her own skin and unsure of what to do about it. “I’m so pissed off, I—I’m trying to figure out which emotions to hang on to and which ones to throw away, you know? I mean, what are we supposed to do anyway? How are we supposed to act?”

  Harry followed her deeper into the house, albeit reluctantly, feeling grotesque and repellant and weak. “Can I get you something? Coffee or…”

  “Is it OK if I smoke?” she asked, rummaging through a large pink leather handbag slung over her shoulder.

  “I wish you wouldn’t. I can barely breathe as it is.”

  She looked over at him and nodded, releasing the purse. “Yeah, sure—of course, sorry—I wasn’t thinking.” She stepped closer and reached out for him without warning, placing her palm flat against his forehead. “You’re burning up. When’s the last time you took your temperature?”

  “While ago,” he answered, standing there like a schoolboy at the nurse’s office. “It was around 102.”

  Gloria’s hand dropped away. “Do you have any Tylenol?”

  “Probably somewhere.”

  “Take a couple every four hours or so, it’ll bring the fever down.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that.” Harry’s legs ached so badly he knew he couldn’t remain standing much longer. He also knew it was best to keep Gloria in the den. The kitchen had to remain off-limits. If she were to look in the mudroom he’d have to explain the coyote. He motioned to the couch. “Have a seat.”

  As Gloria put her purse on the floor and undid her raincoat, he shuffled over to the recliner and sat on the edge of the chair. She tossed her coat over the arm of the couch without much care, then flopped down onto the cushions and crossed her legs at the knee. She was wearing a pretty but basic pink sleeveless dress cut low enough to show off an ample amount of cleavage, matching plastic hoop earrings and a pair of pink pumps with spike heels. She wore no nylons but her legs were smooth, silky and in good shape. A delicate gold bracelet adorned her left ankle. Sandwiched between a thick gold wedding ring and a second band sporting a row of diamonds, her engagement ring was larger than Kelly’s and sparkled like she was planning to land planes with it. Though overdressed for a typical Saturday afternoon, Harry assumed she’d come from work at her salon. She struck him as one of those women who were constantly coiffed, a throwback to some 1950s-housewife-type whose husband never saw her without her hair done and her makeup in place.

  “I gotta tell you,” she said. “You look rough.”

  “I feel rough.”

  “You haven’t slept in a while, have you?”

  “Not in three days. What can I do for you, Gloria?”

  “I’m sorry to barge in like this.” She broke eye contact, looked instead to the floor. “But I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Harry knew what was coming, but had no idea what to say or do until she came out with it, until she gave him something concrete to react to. “You said we need to talk. Go ahead.”

  “You know what’s happening too, I know you do. How could you not?”

  His chest wheezing, Harry somehow managed to will away the looming threat of another coughing fit. “Lay it out for me. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  “I know you’re sick, but I can tell by your eyes you’ve been crying. I don’t say that to embarrass you, OK? I’ve done nothing but cry over the last few days either.”

  Harry self-consciously wiped at his eyes. “I’m just exhausted, that’s all.”

  “Look at you,” she said softly. “Look at me. And where are they? Where are they, huh? Our loving spouses, where are they? Are they here? Are they here caring for us, supporting us, helping us? Not a chance. They’re too busy with each other.”

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “I’ve had a few. And I’m going to have a few more, and then a few more after that.” Again she rummaged through her purse, this time coming back with a little silver flask. “You wanna see my ID? Don’t I look twenty-one to you?”

  Harry snagged a tissue, blew his nose and waited. Time bled through the room, falling in slow agonizing drops as the silence of the afternoon closed in around them.

  “I’ve suspected since forever,” she finally told him, unscrewing the top of the flask. “All the signs were there. But Aaron and I’ve been together for so long I guess I just didn’t want to believe it. It didn’t seem real. It still doesn’t. Thing is there comes a point where you have to see the truth, Harry, you have to see it even though you don’
t want to, even though it’s disgusting and awful and hurtful. And the truth of the matter is that your wife and my husband are having an affair.”

  There they were. He’d heard the words somewhere other than in his own head. “That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

  “Oh please, spare me.” She rolled her eyes and threw back some of whatever was in her flask. “They’ve been running around for years. I always knew something was there I just never wanted to see it, so I pretended not to.”

  Harry forced a swallow. It caught in his throat, amidst the mucus. “How do you know for sure?”

  “The same way you do.”

  “I never said—”

  “You don’t have to. You don’t understand yet, but you will.” She drew a deep breath and fell silent a moment, as if the hesitation might help her consider her words more carefully. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but you’re not a moron, are you? It’s right in front of your eyes. Maybe you don’t want to know, don’t want to face it. That I understand. I didn’t either. I haven’t wanted to for a long while now, but after a while it starts to gnaw at you. It breaks you down and you can’t ignore it or make excuses anymore. Maybe you’re just not ready.” She bobbed her leg up and down nervously, the pump slipping off her heel and dangling from her toes. “But I am.”

  Harry rubbed his eyes, stifled a yawn. “Look, you show up at my door unannounced, ranting and raving like a lunatic, drinking in the middle of the afternoon and talking about an affair, but I haven’t heard one scrap of evidence or anything that would lead me to believe your suspicions are warranted.”

  “Here, have some.” She held the flask out for him. “It’ll help relax you. Then maybe you can get that board out of your ass. It’s obviously wedged so far up there it’s pushing on your brain.”

  “I can’t drink, I’m on antibiotics.” He waved her off. “Now I know the situation with Kelly and Aaron can be frustrating because they’ve worked so closely together for so long and they’re out of town together a lot and all that, but Kelly and I have a solid marriage, do you understand? I know my wife. I know Kelly, Gloria, I know—”

  “Do you know they’re probably not even in San Diego?” She arched a heavily made-up eyebrow. “How about that, do you know that?”

  “What are you talking about? Of course they’re in San Diego. I have the hotel information, and Kelly called me once she’d landed there.”

  “Aaron gave me some hotel information too. Only it didn’t check out. When I called there looking for him they told me they couldn’t divulge the names of guests so I told them I was his wife and there was a family emergency and I needed to speak with him immediately. A manager came on the line and told me they had no such person registered there. No Kelly Fremont either. Aaron probably didn’t think it would be a big deal because I always use his cell anyway. But this time I called his bluff, and the hotel had no idea who the hell I was talking about. Think about it, did you actually reach Kelly through the hotel phone, or was it her cell? When she called you once she’d supposedly landed in San Diego, did she call you from the hotel or from her cell?”

  Harry’s mind struggled to remember. Had he ever actually gotten through to her at the hotel? Had he ever asked for her by name or simply for the suite number she’d given him?

  Call my cell rather than the hotel, that way you’ll be sure to get me.

  “I’ve known they were up to something for a long time,” Gloria said, taking another swallow from her flask. “And this time when all of a sudden a last minute trip popped up, I knew something was wrong with it. I could feel it, you know? You know how when you know someone so well you can sometimes just feel it? So this time I decided enough was enough. I don’t know what it was about this time that made me act but I decided to check up on him and make sure what he was telling me was true. And just like I knew all along deep down, he was lying. Aaron’s been lying for a long time now Harry, and if you’re honest with yourself Kelly’s been lying to you too.”

  “All right then,” he said, doing his best to mask his mounting concern. “If they’re not in San Diego where are they?”

  “I have my suspicions but I’m not sure.” She reached for her purse, found a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “I only know they aren’t on a business trip. When the hotel had no record of them I thought maybe I’d gotten the wrong information, so I called Brody.”

  Harry knew she was referring to Brody Fay; the senior V.P. of the company Kelly worked for. “You called him at home?”

  “I told him I had a slight emergency and needed to reach Aaron and did he have the right hotel information for him in San Diego? He had no idea what the hell I was talking about. So I told him how Aaron said he and Kelly were on a business trip to San Diego for the company. Brody got real quiet and then real nervous. He tried backpedaling and saying he didn’t know for sure if they were on a business trip or not, but I could tell he was full of crap. He said he’d try to reach Aaron and find out but I told him not to bother, that I’d handle it. He didn’t argue, I could tell he just wanted to get off the phone as fast as he could. Can’t really blame him, I guess.”

  Harry subtly adjusted his position. It felt like he’d been sucker-punched in the gut and the resulting agony was growing worse, spreading across his torso and out into his extremities with each stabbing pain, limiting his breathing and sending his heart into a panic. What if this is true? Would Gloria lie? Would she go to all this trouble just on suspicion alone and make up all the rest? It didn’t seem believable that she would, and yet the very real possibility that Kelly was having an affair didn’t seem believable either. He’d had his brief suspicions but those had been based on anger and poor judgment, a lack of sleep and—

  “I know it’s a lot to deal with,” Gloria said. “Believe me, I know it is. I’ve looked the other way for a while now and I’m not doing it anymore. I can’t, I just can’t. I don’t know what…” She dabbed at her eyes again. “I don’t know what I’ve done to…”

  Harry wanted to cry. For her. For him. For all of them. He bit his lip, thought of Garret. How could Kelly do this? Why would she do it? “I know it doesn’t look good, but maybe there’s a reasonable explanation.”

  “Yeah, and what would that be? Ever lied to your wife and gone on a trip with another woman? And if you did, what do you think you’d be doing on that trip, Harry? Any guesses? I’ll give you three and the first two don’t count.”

  “I’m just saying I think we ought to talk to them directly before we decide to condemn them. Don’t we owe them that much?”

  She leaned forward and raised her voice, as if he were hard of hearing. “My husband is fucking your wife.”

  “You don’t know that. There could be a—”

  “I’ve spent my whole life trying to make that dickhead happy and this is how he repays me. I’m not perfect, God knows, but I’ve been a good wife, Harry, a damn good wife. All these years wiping his ass and being there for him. We never even had children. Know why? Aaron never wanted any. I did but who cares about what Gloria wants? Just get your ass to the shop and cut some more hair, bitch, leave me alone to chase secretaries and waitresses and God knows what else.” Her eyes glistened. “I always wanted kids, from the time I was a little girl I dreamed about being a mother one day. But I chose him instead. I thought if it meant being without him then having children wasn’t worth it. Can you imagine? Turns out the only thing not worth it was him.” She relaxed her posture and sat back, deflated, and took another drink. “Piece of shit, that’s what he is, a lowlife piece of shit.”

  Harry closed his eyes, felt his head spin. He couldn’t take much more.

  “What have we done?” she asked. “What have we done to make them hurt us like this, Harry?” When he offered no response she said, “Want to know the truth? I always thought you guys were an odd couple. You’re so different. You seem like a sweet guy, predictable and kind of boring to be honest, but steady and dependable and decent. The kind of guy who goe
s to work every day, stays out of trouble, doesn’t drink too much or do drugs, pays his taxes, obeys the law, doesn’t beat his wife or run around with other women, the type who gets his ass home every night, a good man, a good husband and father. Maybe not the most exciting guy on the block, but somebody a girl can count on. And Kelly, she always came off like she totally took you for granted, like her job was everything and you were kind of an afterthought, this base she knew would always be there because where the hell else would you be? Hey, I’m a career woman myself, OK? I know the score. The first few years we were married Aaron’s company was still struggling, so I rented a chair at a place in Boston, an upscale joint. I made a bunch of money and we socked it away for a couple years until I had enough for a down payment on my own shop. Once I took the plunge I never looked back. Now I’m the one renting chairs to other girls. I built a solid clientele and worked my fingers to the bone to make that place a success. You try spending half your life on your feet, twelve hours a day, washing and styling hair. But as dedicated as I was, as hard as I worked, it never took priority over my husband, our marriage or our life together. Everything I did was for us, OK? Aaron makes a fortune. I haven’t had to work in years. Now I do it for my own sanity, OK?” Gloria fired back another gulp from the flask, then sat forward with such ferocity she nearly toppled off the couch as even more cleavage spilled from her dress. “OK?”

  Harry nodded. “OK.”

  They sat in silence awhile. Countless thoughts fired through his mind but he couldn’t transform even one of them into anything coherent. So he said nothing, just sat there, remembering how Kenny had immediately suspected marital problems. Was it that obvious? Had it really been right in front of him for a long time like Gloria suggested, and he’d simply missed it, not seen it, or not wanted to? Had he been sleepwalking all this time?

  “Was this your dream, Harry?” she asked, still leaned forward but more relaxed now, less intense. “We all have dreams, was this yours?”

  “Yes,” he heard himself say. “I never wanted an extravagant life. I wanted a wife, a family, a good job, nice place to live, security, happiness.”