Harlan Coben - Play Dead

Stan turned away from Gloria and began to walk away.

Did you see that body? I thought ol’ Stan My Man was going to pass out! A rollercoaster doesn’t have that many curves. And Gloria digs me, no doubt about that. I can always tell -

Bam!

Somebody bumped into Stan with a significant amount of power. The blow knocked Stan out of his daydream. When he focused, he saw a face he had not seen in almost a decade.

T.C. glared at him. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he hissed.

Stan quickly recovered. ‘Why, it’s little Terry Conroy. Long time no see. You’ve put on a few pounds, old buddy.’

‘I asked you a question.’

‘Can’t a man mourn the death of his only brother?’

‘A man, yes. A piece of shit like you, no.’

‘Big talk from the city cop. You are a policeman now, aren’t you, T.C.?’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Is this an official interrogation?’

‘Call it what you want.’

‘How about none of your business?’

‘How about I smash your head through a window?’

‘Good idea, T.C. Why don’t you make a big scene in front of everyone and disturb their mourning? How does that sound?’

‘If you dare bother anyone – ’

‘Please, T.C., would I do something like that?’

‘Get the hell out of here.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I was under the impression this was the Ayars’s house. I never realized it was yours. The Boston Police Department must pay very well.’

‘What are you doing in Boston anyway?’

‘Paying a condolence call to my lovely sister-in-law.’

‘Let me warn you, shithead, that if you harm her in any way – ’

‘T.C., can’t you see I’ve changed? I’m a new man.’

‘Shit doesn’t change its stink. It only breaks down into nothing.’

‘Colorfully put. I must remember that. Anyway, as much as I’ve enjoyed this conversation, I really must be going now.’

‘Back to Michigan?’

‘Not yet. I thought I might hang around Boston for a while.’

‘I wouldn’t advise it, Stan. This city can be awfully tough on strangers.’

‘A threat? How nice. If you’ll excuse me…’

T.C. grabbed his arm. ‘I’m warning you, Stan. Don’t try to pull any of your shit. I remember what you did to David.’

For the first time, Stan’s eyes grew angry. ‘You know nothing about what happened between David and me.’ He pulled away but T.C. hung on. He pulled harder. ‘Let go of me now, you tub of shit,’ he half whispered, half yelled. ‘I happen to be his brother. I’m part of his family. You, on the other hand, are just another in a long line of people who sucked up to my brother for personal gain.’

T.C. let go. ‘Get out, Stan. Get out now.’

Stan pulled away, said his goodbyes, and left. As he headed for the door, he wiped away a tear, curious as to why it was so easy for him to get into the role of grieving for a brother he had so hated.

That night, Judy Simmons went back to the hotel by herself. She felt drained, exhausted from the events of the day. She sat on the bed and took her wallet out of her pocketbook. Her fingers reached behind her license and plucked out a thirty-year-old photograph.

Judy lifted the picture into view, her eyes entranced by the black and white images from 1960. She lay back and held the wrinkled photograph in the air above her head. She stared at the picture of the pretty, hopeful college co-ed and the handsome older man.

Why torture yourself?

But the truth was that her past did torture her. It had tortured them all, still tortured them, would continue to torture.

Not necessarily. I could tell the truth.

But what good would it do? Would it stop the torment? Release her guilt? Not really. Better to keep it a secret. Better to hope that all would be okay. Besides, she wasn’t sure what had really happened in Australia. It may have been just like they said. It may have been just an accident. A sad, tragic accident.

But it wasn’t.

She sat up and put the picture on the night-table. And what if it wasn’t an accident? What if…? She pushed the thought away. David was dead. Judy’s beautiful wonderful niece was crushed. Nothing could change that. It was in the past. The truth could not work as a time machine, allowing her to go back and make everything work out okay. The truth could not bring David back to life.

She glanced at the clock and picked up her suitcase. The truth. The only thing the truth could do now…

… was kill.

Laura finally managed to get out of the bed again.

Three weeks had achingly passed, three torturous weeks where Laura had done little but sulk away the day in Serita’s spare bedroom. And God, how she hated to sulk, how she hated lying in bed and feeling sorry for herself.

She pulled back the covers. Her hair was disheveled, her usually dark skin turning gray, her eyes swollen and black. Yes, three weeks had passed but as far as the pain was concerned, it felt like one agonizing second. The pain, the anguish of knowing her David was dead had not lessened, had not loosened its grip for even the briefest of moments.

She had visitors. Gloria was always with her and in many ways, she was the best comfort; not because her words or company were particularly comforting, but because Laura’s worrying about her sister was an effective means of escaping from her own torment. The way Gloria’s body shook and quaked reminded Laura of the painful days of withdrawal when she first found Gloria’s naked body with the needle tracks in her arms.

Stan was also a true support and a sad example of lost opportunity. He visited every day, often at the same time as Gloria. Laura noticed that Gloria had something of a crush on Stan. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but so far Stan had not done more than be kind to her. That was probably good. At this stage, a bad relationship with a member of the opposite sex would be catastrophic for Gloria.

There were others. Earl was here a lot. So was Clip Arnstein and Timmy Daniels, the backcourt player who had always thought of David as an older brother.

Laura put on a fabulous act when these visitors came to the door. She pretended to be strong and told them all she was doing just fine, that she was taking walks outside every day, that there was no reason to worry. In other words, she lied. She was not sure it was working, but anything was better than allowing people to stare at you with eyes filled with pity. That was something Laura could not handle.

‘Whoa, will miracles never cease?’

Laura turned toward Serita. ‘Excuse me?’

‘The fans are on their feet! Laura is finally out of bed! And oh my, would you look at that? She’s actually putting on something besides a nightgown and bathrobe.’

‘Funny.’

‘Are you going back to work. Say yes.’

‘No.’

‘Then where are you going?’

‘To the house.’

Serita paused. ‘Nah, let’s do something else. Let’s drive down by the Combat Zone and whistle at guys.’

‘I’m going to the house.’

‘Honey, are you sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘But why?’

‘I have to clean up a few things.’

‘It can wait.’

‘No,’ Laura replied, ‘I don’t think it can.’

‘Then I’ll go with you. I can be very helpful.’

‘With cleaning? Don’t make me laugh.’

‘I’m very good at supervising.’

‘You have to go to work, Serita. You have that big spread for International Health Spas today.’

‘It can wait.’

‘With the money they’re paying you for those TV ads?’

‘I said it can wait.’

‘Let me be somewhat less subtle,’ Laura said. ‘I want to go alone.’