Chapter 11

Eleven

D ane

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Ryan asked me as we watched Walter pace back and forth outside the back door.

I wondered what he was saying about me. I hated feeling like I was at the mercy of everyone else, despite the fact that Ryan and Kal had been so nice to me. Even their assistant had brought me clothes.

Walter had been the most caring of all, but he was in a jam. At some point he was going to have to tell the police about me in an official capacity, and then what?

"I have to be. I left the carnival to stop this guy, didn't I? So that's what I have to do."

Easier said than done.

The slider opened and Walter returned to the room.

"Everything okay?" I asked him, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

He took his seat next to me and rubbed his hands together. "I've got a plan."

With raised eyebrows, I sat back and waited for him to speak. Both Kal and Ryan straightened.

"That was one of the detectives I work closely with, Dax Brown. He's the one who caught the homicide yesterday. I was his training officer and mentor, and I know I can trust him, so as I was telling him what's been going on, it came to me. We go with as much of the truth as we can."

No one spoke for several beats—and then Ryan said, "Huh?"

"Tell them that I was attacked, left for dead, rescued by a carny, and I've spent forty years writing poems for people at a traveling carnival? Really? That's your plan?"

He held out his hands. "That's the brilliance of it. Yes, we tell them that. Mostly that. What if you were working at the carnival for, say, twenty years?"

I shrugged. "Okay, but how does that help anything?"

"When you gave your name at the rest stop, you said Dee Dee Miller. Why?"

I thought to myself for a minute. "Because I was thinking of Tess."

"Right. And didn't people say you two looked alike? Almost like siblings?"

"Yeah." And I missed her so damned much.

"Well, let's think about that. Who we can say you are. I think we can figure this out. But we don't need to rush into anything."

I chewed at a fingernail. "I hate that I've been gone so long."

Walter moved closer to me. "Here's the thing," he said, and he was nearly vibrating with intensity. "I had another thought. What if this guy came to the carnival looking for Dane, and he recognized you? We were just talking about the news and the TV shows about you… what if this guy was a true crime junkie and he'd seen Dane's story? What if he'd planned on making Dane his first victim, and he found you?"

"Fuck me," Ryan breathed, and Kal murmured his agreement.

"I don't know. He didn't say he knew me. He was really anxious, though. Excited. He said he'd come by several times earlier in the day but I always had a line. When I tried to blow him off, said it was almost closing time, he got real insistent. ‘I've waited all day and I want my poem.' I felt like he might do something if I didn't say yes. But that doesn't mean he came there for that reason, does it?" My heart thudded in my chest.

"Nothing would have happened to you in the carnival grounds," Kal said, probably to ease my nerves. "Mr. Ame wouldn't allow that."

"You think he knew that? The guy?"

Kal shrugged. "I don't know. I don't see how he would have known anything about the carnival. True, those of us who have left might have said something to someone, but I think it's more important right now that we find out who he is and what he's planning to do next. We can't fix the past."

"Good point," Walter said. He turned to me. "Are you ready to try? It's okay if you're not?—"

"I'm ready. Ryan?"

He nodded. "Let's do this."

The two of us sat forward on the couch and I moved the board to an equal distance between us.

"What do we want to know?" I asked. "We need to be specific, and even then, I'm not sure what we'll get." What else would I need? "Oh! And I need a typewriter so I can get the words down, or a pen and paper."

Ryan pulled his—did Walter call it a smartphone?—out of his pocket. "You can type it on here. I'll get it set for you."

"Or can you say it out loud? I was going to record what happened." Walter held out his own phone.

"What, do typewriters not exist anymore?" I asked sarcastically.

They stared back blankly, like "who's gonna tell him?"

"I don't know that I can say the words out loud. It's different. How about pen and paper? Stone tablet and chisel?"

Kal stood and went for the kitchen. He came back a second later with a notepad that had Disney's Cinderella on it and a sparkly pink pen.

Ryan chuckled. "Scott has two little girls, I think."

Kal shrugged and put them down next to me.

"Maybe you should ask who committed the homicide at Buttonwillow yesterday," Walter suggested. "There's always a chance it wasn't the guy from the carnival."

"That's a good point," Ryan said, making eye contact with me. "We try it and if at any point you need to pull back, you do it."

I reached for his hand, and he accepted my squeeze.

"Thank you, Ryan. You didn't have to have anything to do with this."

He shrugged and looked over his shoulder at Kal. "Every day I spend with him makes it worth it. I'm happy to help. I know what it's like to lose everything, and for that reason I'll be grateful for every minute for the rest of my life."

Kal placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder, bent over and kissed him, and then moved around to sit next to him, their thighs touching.

"Probably you shouldn't be connected to him when we do this, or you might be pulled into whatever happens."

Kal looked to Ryan as if he didn't want to be separated, not even if it meant his peril, and then he slid over a fraction of an inch. "Be careful," he murmured to him.

"I fucking love you, baby."

Kal's cheeks turned pink, and he smiled at Ryan before leaning back on the couch.

"All right. Anything else, oh fearless Troubadour? Hey, did you ever play at the club the Troubadour? I was talking to Cherish about booking some shows there after I record these demos. We should check it out."

"He did?—"

"I did play there." I raised my eyebrows at Walter. He knew that much about me, huh? "My first time onstage was there. It's still open?"

"Yeah, man. Okay, let's do this." It was obvious he was nervous. I wanted to tell him to forget it, that we'd figure out another way, but then I looked at Walter. He needed me to do this. I needed me to do this, and if Ryan could draw this guy, that would help the police catch him.

"Okay."

Walter nodded, touched the screen of the phone, and held it up toward us.

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out, cracked my knuckles, wiggled my fingers, and then placed them on the planchette. Ryan did his own little dance before his tattooed fingers settled across from mine.

"Who committed the murder at the Buttonwillow Rest Area yesterday?"

I closed my eyes and waited for the bottoming-out sensation I'd usually get in my gut as the colors behind my eyes began to swirl… but nothing happened. There was nothing. Only nothingness. Blackness. No sound. Quiet. Stillness.

And then I heard it. The words began to swirl at the same time the face came into view.

Boots on gravel

Dark-carpet sky

Harvest-moon night

Bloody red dye

Wide smile grinning

Bloodshot eye

Comic-book face

Cackle and cry

Ripple-deep dimple

Burnt-face fry

Bony-shoulder slouch

Whiskey bourbon rye

Scrawny-ass hips

Follow me, guy

Wider smile still

Demon claws pry

Sharp teeth plenty

Chin like pie

Iris icy gray

Ask him why

"See you again"

When you die

Ryan's shouts rang out in the room, and I was knocked away from the board like I'd had a blow to the chest.

"What in the unholy fuck did I just see ? Who is that monster!? Jesus , Dee Dee, what the fuck!"

Kal reached for Ryan, but he pushed his hands away and stormed out onto the patio.

Kal's scowl grew deep. He turned to me and said softly, "I'm sorry, Dee Dee," before going to see to Ryan.

My body seemed like it would shake until it came apart at the seams, but then there were arms around me and soft whispers in my ear.

"I'm so sorry, Dane. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for asking you to do this. I'm so sorry."

My teeth were rattling so hard I couldn't speak, but I could move my hands. I held on tightly to those arms until my breath came in a natural rhythm. I didn't want to close my eyes and be faced with him again.

"He's so wrong ! What is wrong with him? He was there. He was covered in blood. The boy was naked, bleeding from his legs and his throat. Dead. Not breathing. Staring. The man stood over him. His hands… bloody. Splatters on a white t-shirt. He's smiling. He saw me, when I walked up… he was still there . I didn't know he was still there. In the darkness. Watching me. I touched the dead man's neck and he was watching me. It was all for me ! ‘I'll see you again, Dee Dee.'"

Kal and Ryan ran back into the room and knelt before me.

"That's… too close. Too close." Walter's voice was close to my ear. He hadn't let go of me, not once, and he was rocking me gently in his embrace. I could almost relax.

"Wait. The words! Where's the paper?" I pushed at Walter's arms and scrambled to the table. I began to write the words as I remembered them. When I got to the end, I put the pen down and stared at the paper for a moment before I looked up at Ryan."You saw him?"

"Hell yeah, I saw him! That hideous piece of shit is the fucking stuff of nightmares." He looked at Walter and tapped his arm. "You watch music videos? You remember that video for Soundgarden's ‘Black Hole Sun?' That creepy fucking video where the people are all smiling and then their faces stretch? Or like the fucking Joker? Fuck! This guy looks normal enough but when he smiles, his fucking lips stretch wide and he's got these fucking teeth that are all crowded in the front. Fuck !"

"I know exactly what video you're talking about," Walter said.

"Babe," Ryan said to Kal. "Can you grab my sketchbook please? Thank fuck I brought one with because that delivery isn't here yet. God, I don't want to draw him because no one should have to see that face. I'm never going to fucking forget it as long as I live." Ryan sank down and put his hands on my knees. "Dee Dee, he wanted that to be you. He pretends it's you. Why? Why does this guy have a fucking hard-on for you?"

"I don't know," I whispered.

"Hey," Walter said, pulling me into his arms again, against his chest, allowing me to bury my face and breathe him in. He smelled like sunshine and honey, which surprised me. It was not what I'd expect to smell on another man, and yet it was the perfect combination for him. Sweet, warm, welcoming like a hug, but there was a spice to it, like cloves. Like kissing him would have a kick, he'd taste sweet with enough spice to balance it out and keep me wanting more.

"Walter—"

"Shhh. Don't. You're still shaking. It can wait."

I laughed against his chest."I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon. I'm okay. Let's get this over with."

Kal had given Ryan a sketch pad, and Ryan was frantically scratching with pencils on the paper.

"You're sure it was the same man you saw at the carnival?" Walter asked me, once I could sit up on my own without my teeth clacking.

"It was. No doubt in my mind. He was standing in dirt and gravel over the boy. The man that I saw. And then he was hiding when I got there, just beyond the garbage can. Waiting." I dropped my hands to my thighs. "I was cut like him," I whispered. My hand flew to my throat, and I didn't have any major scars there. Not like on my face and my thighs.

"What else do you remember from the scene?"

"A silver garbage can with something red smeared on it. It was writing. It said DD. Like Dee Dee. Like me. There was a stack of folded clothes on top of a pair of shoes. It was like there was a light shining down on the scene, like a floodlight on a building?"

Walter frowned and ran a hand over his mustache. "Can you think of anything else?"

"The man from the carnival, he spoke. I heard him say, ‘I'll see you again,' just like he said to me before he left the carnival."

"‘I'll see you again'… He said that to you before?"

I nodded. "Yeah, before they led him away from my booth. Why?"

Walter shook his head and looked out the window for a moment. Like he was planning his next move."You did good," he said, when he finally looked back. "Real good. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Will it help?"

"I think so. Ryan's drawing could help too." Walter turned to Ryan. "Did you notice any other identifying details? Brands on clothes, a car, tattoos? Moles or scars?"

"Right. Yeah. He's got a scar on his forehead and a big dark spot on his neck, almost like a birthmark more than a mole. Splotchy hair growth on his face." Ryan continued to sketch with a heavy look of concentration. "Give me about a half hour and I'll have something for you to look at, and then Dane, you can tell me if I missed anything."

"I think we need more than chocolate cake after this," Kal muttered. "I'm going to go fix lunch."

"And I need a smoke," I said, pushing myself up from the couch on shaky arms.

Walter stood as well. "Need some space?"

I shook my head. "Not from you." I held out my hand, and what do you know? He took it. This all seemed less scary with him beside me.