Harlan Coben - Play Dead

He blew air into his fists and then dug his hands into his pockets. Like a true idiot, he had left his gloves at home. His hands and feet were beginning to feel numb. And damn, he needed a cigar, but those too were sitting at home with his gloves, all warm and cozy.

Damn. Damn it all to hell.

T.C. continued to stroll along the Charles River. He quickened his pace now, the cold really starting to get to him. A minute later, he found what he was looking for:

Mark.

T.C. shook his head. The wind-chill factor had already dropped the temperature well into the minus range, and Mark still chose to stand alone along the river’s frozen edge. There were no other people in the park. The young couples that normally strolled here had opted for cozy indoor fireplaces – even the homeless had decided that the shelters were less of a risk than this arctic cold.

‘Mark?’ T.C. cried out, the wind grabbing his words and spreading them aimlessly.

Mark slowly turned toward T.C. He waved to acknowledge that he had heard him and then turned back around toward the water.

‘What the hell are you doing down here?’ T.C. shouted.

Raising his hand and cupping his ear, Mark signaled that he could not understand what T.C. was saying. T.C. jogged down alongside his friend. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Just taking a walk.’

‘Kind of a cold night for it.’

Mark shrugged but said nothing.

T.C. hesitated. ‘Look, Mark, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt Laura.’

Mark nodded slowly. ‘I know.’

‘I guess I have a tendency to go too far,’ T.C. continued. ‘I lose perspective, become tunnel-visioned. I was just trying to protect her.’

‘Forget it.’

A blast of freezing-cold air sliced through T.C.’s skin until it reached the bone. He had never been the sympathetic-ear type, but the tortured look on Mark’s face was nearly unbearable to watch. ‘You wanna talk about it?’

‘About what?’

‘About whatever’s bothering you.’

‘You a psychiatrist now?’ Mark asked.

‘No,’ T.C. replied. ‘I’m just a guy who’s trying to help you out.’

‘You’ve done too much already,’ Mark said. ‘I can never repay you.’

‘I don’t want to be repaid. Look, I’m your friend, right? Friends are supposed to help each other out. Would you have done the same for me?’

‘No chance.’

T.C. laughed. ‘You’re still an asshole. I remember – ’

‘Careful,’ Mark interrupted. ‘The past is over. You’re the one who told me that.’

‘Yeah, I know. Sorry. You want to be alone?’

Mark did not respond right away. T.C. watched him. Yeah, he decided, he wants to be alone. He glanced at his watch. Have to go anyway, I have to be -

‘What am I doing?’ Mark asked out loud. ‘I mean, am I doing the right thing?’

‘Hell of a time to ask,’ T.C. said.

‘Would you have done the same?’

‘Nope. But it’s easy for me to say that. I wasn’t in your shoes.’

‘Why didn’t you stop me?’

‘Truth? I couldn’t think of a better solution at the time.’

‘And now?’

T.C. shrugged. ‘Like you, I wonder what if. Maybe it didn’t have to go this far. Maybe we panicked.’

‘What else could I have done?’

‘I don’t know. I just don’t know if I would have the courage to do what you did.’

‘Courage?’ Mark repeated. ‘What a load of bullshit. What I did didn’t take any courage.’

‘You’re wrong, my friend. You gave up the only thing you cared about. That takes courage.’

Mark waved him off. ‘I had no choice. You know that. But what do I do now?’

‘Go on. Survive. It could be worse. You could be dead.’

Mark smiled sadly. ‘Like David Baskin?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Once you’re dead, the pain is over. Isn’t that what they say?’

‘Some.’

‘Then he’s pretty well off, isn’t he?’

‘Maybe he is,’ T.C. said. ‘Who knows?’

‘Oh cut the crap. You can be as bad as your friends at the FBI.’

‘Meaning?’

‘All of this Mark shit when we’re alone. It’s not necessary.’

‘Don’t you remember what I told you in June?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I remember,’ Mark began. ‘You said that if we went through with this whacko idea we would have to do it right. That means that we have to make David Baskin dead, really dead, even in our minds.’

‘And even in private,’ T.C. added. ‘David Baskin is dead.’

‘But he’s not dead,’ Mark said. ‘We’ve given him a new name, changed his face, his voice, his eye color. But we haven’t killed him. He still lives. He still wants to play basketball. He’s still your best friend. And most of all, he still…’

‘… loves Laura?’ T.C. finished.

Mark nodded. ‘So let me hang on to David when we’re alone. You’ll be the only one who knows he’s still alive. I don’t want him to die, T.C. I don’t want to be just Mark Seidman. Mark Seidman is some fictional character that I still don’t understand. He barely even knows Laura.’

T.C. shook his head. ‘You have to accept him. You have to let go of your past.’

‘I’m not Mark Seidman, T.C. There is no such person. You can perform all the cosmetic surgery you want, but you can’t change me into a man who does not love Laura.’

‘As a brother?’

Mark chuckled sadly. ‘Touché.’

‘David Baskin was a hell of a guy,’ T.C. continued. ‘He loved Laura like no man has ever loved a woman. But David Baskin also learned the unpleasant truth. And accepted it.’

‘We could have made it work. It would have been difficult but we loved each other.’

‘You want to give it a try?’ T.C. asked. ‘You want to tell her the truth now?’

Mark thought for a moment and then shook his head. ‘No.’

‘I didn’t think so.’

‘So what now?’

T.C. shrugged. ‘Let’s get out of here. I’m freezing.’

‘You go ahead. I’ll be home in a little while.’

‘You sure?’

He nodded.

Without another word, T.C. turned and left.

Mark did not take his eyes off the fog floating above the river like a bad special effect from an old horror movie. Thoughts of what might have been, of what should have been, scurried across his mind. The present and the past merged into one obscure reality. Only one thought remained clear and in focus:

Laura.

Serita dropped Laura off in front of her apartment building. ‘Do you want me to come in?’

‘Thanks anyway. Why don’t you head home and get some sleep?’

‘Are you sure?’

Laura nodded. ‘I need time to just sit and sift through this.’

‘You’ll call me if you need anything? Even if you just want to shoot the shit at four in the morning?’

‘You’ll be the first to know. You’re a good friend, Serita.’

Serita gunned the engine. ‘The best.’

Laura moved past the security guard. The elevator was already on the ground level. She stepped in, pushed the button, and watched the door close. A minute later, she was on the eighteenth floor. Her key unlocked the door. She pushed it open and entered her apartment. The room was dark, except for the lamp in the corner. The lamp shone on a sight that made Laura inhale sharply.

‘Laura?’

Laura ran across the room. Gloria’s lips were thin, her eyes hollow and wide. ‘What’s the matter? What happened?’

‘Oh God, oh please…’

Laura wrapped her arms around her sister in much the same way she had when Gloria’s sleep had been plagued by those terrible nightmares during their childhood. For a moment she understood what her mother had meant when she discussed the bond between sisters. They might fight or disagree or be from completely different worlds, but they were eternally linked in a way that they could never hope to understand.