Andrew Klavan - The truth of the matter

“Ma’am…,” I said weakly.

“It’s all right,” she said softly. “I’m just going to go see who’s at the door.”

I let my hand fall back onto the thin blanket on top of me. I lay where I was and watched her move out of the room.

The pounding continued. I heard the woman call out, “All right, all right, I’m coming.”

I heard Sport add his opinion with a short, sharp bark.

In the next several seconds as she crossed to her front door, my eyes traveled around the little room. It was bare, stark. Just the bed, the chair, a dresser with some framed photographs on it. No window. No pictures on the wall, just peeling old-fashioned wallpaper with purple flowers. There was a bowl of water on a small table by the woman’s chair. There was a washcloth in the bowl-the cloth she’d been using to keep me cool. There was a bottle of aspirin and a couple of empty juice cartons on the floor too. I guess she’d been giving me aspirin and juice to keep me going.

About a million questions were flashing through my mind. How long had I been here? Hours? Days? How long had I been feverish and hallucinating, lying helpless while this woman I’d never met sat beside me and cared for me? Had I said anything to her? Had I spoken in my sleep? Had I given myself away…?

The pounding stopped. I heard the door open. I heard the woman’s voice again, “Down, Sport,” she said. Then she said, “Yes?”

“Hello, ma’am,” a man answered her. With a jolt of fear, I recognized the voice just a second before he said, “My name is Detective Rose. I’m with the police.”

Rose The words went through me like an electric shock. Rose! Here! Had the woman asked him to come? Had I revealed something in my fevered sleep that had caused her to call the police? Or maybe she just called them because I’d broken into her house. Or maybe she’d just seen my picture on the news and recognized me. All these possibilities crowded into my mind when I heard his voice.

But wait. Now I heard her answer him: “Yes, Detective? How can I help you?” So maybe she hadn’t called him at all. I shook my head, trying to clear it, trying to figure things out.

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am. A fugitive escaped from the police near here yesterday. We’ve been searching the woods for him, but our dogs seem to feel he took to the road and possibly came this way.”

“A fugitive?” the woman said. “Oh, my.”

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t mean to frighten you, but he’s a convicted murderer. Considered very dangerous.”

“Well, I’m glad you don’t mean to frighten me, but you’re doing a very good job of it anyway.”

I started to sit up in bed, but weakness overcame me and I fell back. I wasn’t sure what I was planning anyway. I mean, I wanted to escape, but where could I go? I was wearing nothing but my boxer shorts and T-shirt. Even if I could endure the mountain cold in my underwear, there was no window to climb out of. If I tried to leave the room through the door, Rose would spot me in a second. Still, I couldn’t just lie there and wait for the inevitable…

The conversation at the door went on. I gathered my strength and struggled to sit up again.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said Rose. “Would you mind taking a look at this picture?”

“Sure. Is that him? Is that the fugitive?”

“Yes, it is. His name is Charlie West.”

I waited for the woman to let out a shout of fear and recognition. I waited for her to say, “I know him! He’s right in the next room, Detective!”

But all she said was, “Looks like a nice enough boy.” Her voice was steady and calm.

“Yes, he does, ma’am,” Rose answered. “Believe me, I know. He fooled me once too.”

“You say he murdered someone?”

“His best friend. Stabbed him in the chest.”

“Pretty cold.”

“Yes, ma’am, it was.”

As they talked, I managed to push my upper body off the mattress in slow, painful stages. I slid my feet over the edge to the floor. Now I was sitting up, trying to gather enough strength and willpower to get to my feet. I had no plan, but I figured: At least when Rose came for me, I could do my best to get away from him. I could put up some kind of fight, run as far as I could. I didn’t think I would get very far, weak as I was, but it was better to try than to do nothing.

“So… ma’am?” Rose said, waiting for the woman’s response to the photograph.

“Hmm?”

“The boy. West. Have you seen him? Have you seen anyone who looked like him passing by the area?”

I froze where I was, sitting there, listening.

After a small pause, the woman answered, “No. No, sorry. I haven’t seen anyone who looks like that. Don’t recognize him at all.”

“You’re sure?”

The woman gave a little laugh. “We’re pretty isolated here. If I saw a stranger, I’m sure I’d have noticed and remembered. You’re welcome to come inside and look around if you think he might be hiding under the bed or something.”

Desperate to get up, I held on to the bed frame and tried to stand.

But Rose answered her, “No, no, that won’t be necessary. Here, let me give you my card. If you see anything, call that number, would you?”

“Sure. Be happy to.”

“Meanwhile, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take a look in your shed out there. Just to make sure he’s not hiding on the property without your knowing it.”

“Well, you go right ahead, Detective. Look anywhere you like.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No problem, Detective. You have a nice day now.”

I heard the door shut. I continued to push off the bed frame until I reached my feet. But the minute I did, my legs gave out beneath me. I wilted to the floor.

A moment later, the woman was back with me. When she saw me lying on the floor, she let out a little noise of surprise and concern. She rushed to my side. Knelt down beside me. She caught me under the arms.

“Why…?” I said.

“Ssh,” she whispered urgently. “He’s right outside. Keep your voice down or he’ll hear you.” She tried to get me back onto the bed. “Come on. I can’t lift you by myself. You have to help.”

I reached out blindly until I found the edge of the bed and grabbed hold of it. With me using all my effort and the woman pushing at me, I finally managed to climb back up onto the mattress. Exhausted, I tumbled onto the bed and lay there, shivering, weak and cold. The woman pulled the cover over me. She sat on the edge of the bed beside me. She laid a hand on my shoulder to keep me still.

“Why did you…?” I muttered again.

She lifted her finger to her lips. I fell silent.

We waited there together. We listened to the noises outside.

I could hear Rose moving out there, moving around the side of the house. I could hear his footsteps. I could hear him pulling open the shed door nearby. For a moment, I could even hear him banging around in the shed, searching for me.

A moment later, I heard the shed’s big door close again.

Then I heard Rose say: “What do you think?”

Another man answered him, “Well, the dogs think he went in this direction for sure. But the trail’s old and the road-you know, there’s been a lot of truck traffic, chemical stuff. It makes it confusing for them. They got pretty tentative about a half mile back. I don’t know…”

“The lady of the house says she hasn’t seen him.”

“You believe her?”

There was a pause as if Rose was considering the question. Then he said, “Why would she lie? Why would she hide him?”

“Maybe he’s in there, you know… with a gun or something. Maybe she was speaking under duress.”