Linwood Barclay: Clouded Vision

“-or maybe that guy who’s been going around doing carjackings, maybe he did this. It could have been any number of things. The world is full of sick people. The police will have all sorts of theories, and if they never solve it, they never solve it.”

“Okay.”

“The main thing is, you just don’t know. You have no idea. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

She crawled into the bed, lay on her side, rested her head on the pillow. She grabbed a couple of tissues from the box on her bedside table and dabbed her eyes.

“I can’t do this,” she said to herself.

What was it her mother used to tell her?

“You have to live your life like someone’s watching you all the time. Behave in a way that you will never be ashamed.”

She turned to other side, then back. It was so hard to get comfortable because of the baby. Finally, she threw off the covers and put her feet on the floor, sat there on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.

“I can’t do this,” she said again. “I have to do what’s right. No matter who it hurts.”

She wondered, should she call a lawyer? But she didn’t know any lawyers. She didn’t want to pick one at random out of the phone book. And was there really any point? If her plan was to tell the truth, did she really need one?

Melissa decided to take a shower first, make herself presentable. Before she stepped under the water, she phoned for a taxi. Asked for it to be out front in an hour.

She was standing on the curb when the yellow car came around the corner. When she got in, the driver asked where she’d like to go.

“The police station,” she said.

“Okeydoke,” he said, then laughed. “I was thinking maybe you were going to say the hospital.”

“I got another couple of months to go,” she told him. “I’m not having a baby in your cab.”

“Good to know,” he said, and put the car in drive.

She didn’t say anything the rest of the way. Mostly, she just thought. About how angry her father was going to be with her.

Keisha

Garfield seemed to take a long time in the kitchen, but when he returned he had a check between his thumb and index finger. Keisha smiled as she took it from him, glanced down at it, saw that it was for the right amount. She folded the check once and slipped it into her purse.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “I couldn’t find a pen.”

“You should have asked me. I have a couple in my purse here.”

“I finally found one. In the drawer.”

“Well, that’s okay.” She put her purse down on the floor next to the chair. “Shall I continue?”

“Would you like some coffee?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“I was actually just about to make a cup of tea when you knocked on the door. Tea?”

“No, thank you.”

Garfield sat down on the couch. “So, do you live around here?”

Keisha wondered what was going on. She’d brought Garfield right up to the edge of the cliff with that thing about his wife’s car not being on the road. She had him then. He was curious, no doubt about it.

It was the ideal moment to hit him up for the money.

So off he’d gone to the kitchen to write the check. And now he was back, ready to continue, and he’s asking her if she wants coffee? Tea? Asking her where she lived?

She wondered, was he stalling for time? Had he called the police while he was out of her sight? Told them there was this crazy lady here, trying to exploit his situation for money?

Keisha didn’t think so. She’d have heard something if he’d tried that. He was no more than ten feet away the whole time, just on the other side of the wall. And the doorway between the living room and the kitchen was open the entire time.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” she asked.

“Where do you live?”

“Not far from here,” she said. “The other side of town.”

He nodded pleasantly. “Have you lived there long?”

“I moved up here a couple of years ago.”

“Where from?”

“Connecticut. Near New Haven.”

“Do you have a summer place?”

“I’ve just got the one place, Mr. Garfield, and I live in it all year long. Do you want to hear what I have to say or not? I mean, you’ve paid me. I’m guessing you’d like to get your money’s worth.”

He gave her a go-ahead wave. “By all means.”

“As I was saying, I’ve been seeing some kind of flashes of the car your wife was driving.” Keisha still had her hands on the pink robe, occasionally kneading the fabric between her fingers. “The silver Nissan.”

“You were saying that the car was not on the road. If it’s not on the road, where do you see it?”

Keisha closed her eyes again. “It’s not a parking lot. I guess that would still count as being on the road, in a way. I’m not seeing it in a garage.”

“What about water?” Garfield asked. “Do you see any water?”

Curious, Keisha thought. He’s just asked if I have a summer place, and now he mentions water. She’d been thinking about Florida earlier. Maybe Garfield was thinking the missus had taken off for Miami. But then again, she’d already put it out there that Ellie Garfield was very cold, so if she raised Florida as a possibility, she was going to get caught in a contradiction.

Stick with cold. So if it’s cold, the water… could be frozen.

She opened her eyes for a moment, then closed them again. “It’s funny you should mention water. I was seeing something, something shimmery, that I thought might be water, but I was thinking maybe it was actually ice.”

“Ice,” Garfield said.

This time, she kept her eyes open. “Yes, ice. Ice in a glass? Ice at a skating rink? Ice, like, on a lake? Does ice of any kind have any significance to you? Any significance where your wife is concerned?”

“Why should it mean something to me?” A defensive tone had edged into his voice.

“You were the one who mentioned water.”

“And then you mentioned ice. I didn’t mention ice.”

“But it seems to have some meaning for you,” Keisha insisted. “I could see it, in your expression.”

“Why would you say ice on a lake?”

“That was just one of the kinds of ice I mentioned. But I can tell there seems to be a connection there.”

Garfield stood up. He took a few steps to the right of the couch, then turned and paced in the other direction. He was stroking the end of his chin, pondering something.

“What is it?” Keisha asked.

He paced back and forth one more time and then stopped. He looked at Keisha, studied her a moment, then pointed an accusing finger in her direction. “Maybe it’s time you just leveled with me.”

“Leveled with you about what?”

“About what’s really going on here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Garfield, but I’m not sure I understand.”

“This whole psychic mumbo-jumbo act you’ve got going on, that’s a load of bullshit, isn’t it?”

Keisha sighed. “I told you, if you want to call Nina’s father for a reference, I have no problem with that. I’m happy to give you the number.”

“You got somebody all set up to take the call? Someone who’ll tell me what I want to hear?”

Keisha shook her head and gave him a bruised look. Trying to appear disappointed, hurt. But what she was thinking was, At least I’ve got the check. Smart thing to do would be to get to the bank when it opens tomorrow morning and cash it, before Garfield has a chance to phone and put a stop payment on it.

“I’m very sorry you’d think that of me, Mr. Garfield. Just when I thought we were making some progress.”

“Whatever you know, whatever you think you know, it’s got nothing to do with visions or communicating with the dead or goddamn tea leaves. Whatever you know, you found out some other way.”