William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

Was there anything I hadn’t screwed up? Would there ever be?

David could answer that question. Yes, he certainly could. But I might not like the answer.

“Susan? Is this chair taken?”

You can imagine my relief when I saw that accountant-informant guy, Ethan, standing at the other end of the table. He was a small guy, but still reasonably attractive. He wasn’t Patrick, but now that I looked at him, I realized they did have a similar look about them. And Patrick had given me a pass. So a girl could hardly be faulted for exploring alternatives.

I invited him to have a seat. He ordered a Coke. I continued nursing my club soda. We talked about nothing in particular for a while.

“I know you’ve been buried in that case,” he commented after a while. “But you haven’t said anything about it.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”

“What do you think that guy wants?”

“Who? The killer?”

“I can’t help being curious. After all, I saw the man.”

“He doesn’t know what he wants. He’s delusional. Psychos of his caliber work up these grandiose schemes that only make sense in their own minds. If there.”

“Are you sure? I’m no expert, but it seems to me as if he might be… working toward something.”

“And this is based on seeing him in the parking lot?”

“And everything I’ve read. You don’t think he has a greater plan?”

“Not one that makes any rational sense.”

“Do you think you’re close to catching him?” He seemed awfully interested in this killer. Didn’t he get that I didn’t want to talk about it? “I mean, I’m wondering if I might have to come in and pick him out of a lineup or something.”

“It’s possible. I can’t talk about how close we are.”

“Sure. I understand.” Finally we moved on to other topics. A few minutes later he got around to asking if I was married.

“Widowed. You?”

“No. Wanted to. But never met the right girl.”

“You wanted to be married? Why? Just for the pleasure of sharing a bathroom?”

He smiled shyly-almost boyishly. “A stable lifestyle is the key to harmony. A family. You have any children?”

I felt my buzz fading. “No.”

“Pity. You’d make a great mom.”

“Tell it to the judge.” He couldn’t possibly know how sensitive a nerve he’d just struck. “I’m sorry, long story. Stupid.”

“No, not at all.” To my surprise, he put his arm around me and held me. Warmly. There was nothing sexual about it. He was just… comforting. “Best to let it out.”

“No. I just… oh, God.”

The bartender came by, obviously wondering if something was wrong, if he was a masher trying to overpower me or something. “She’s just not feeling well,” he explained, and now that he mentioned it, I realized I wasn’t feeling well. My eyesight was getting fuzzy. My limbs were stiffening.

“I-I think I may need to go to the bathroom.”

“That’s okay,” Ethan said. “Let me help you.”

“I-don’t-need-” All of a sudden, I could barely move. Or speak. He helped me off the stool and all but carried me back to the ladies’ room. To my surprise, he went in with me.

And locked the door behind us.

“Is your head feeling heavy, dear? You’re starting to slur, and for once, it isn’t the copious quantities of booze you’ve imbibed. I put a little treat in your drink.”

I tried to do something, but it was impossible. I was alert and fully cognizant of what was happening. But I couldn’t move.

“I didn’t want to do this, Susan. I wanted you to come willingly, eagerly. You made this necessary.”

He opened the window in the back of the bathroom and stuffed me through it. He was stronger than he looked.

“We’re going back to my place now. I’ve got my truck parked in the alleyway. You’re familiar with that alleyway, aren’t you? Your security detail is taking a nap, but we’ll use the back way just to be careful.”

As promised, his truck was right there. He lifted me into the cab, pulled a blanket over me, and started the engine.

“I’m going to give you something to help you sleep now, Susan. You’ll wake later. We’ll talk. You won’t believe all the preparations I’ve made.”

Noooo! I wanted to scream. Someone help me! But I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do anything. I was worse than putty in his hands.

The syringe descended toward my neck, a silver drop dangling from the tip. I didn’t feel it penetrate, but I knew it had. And a few seconds later, I was gone.

Granger didn’t even wait for the car to stop. He leaped out the passenger side door, stumbling, recovering, racing. Darcy followed close behind. Despite repeated efforts, they’d been unable to reach Susan or any of her security detail on their cells.

Granger raced into the bar and flashed his badge. “Susan Pulaski. Tall, dark hair. Tough. You know her?”

The barkeep shrugged. “Sure. Seen her on TV.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s over-” He turned and almost pointed before he realized the chairs were vacant. “That’s funny. She was sitting right there.”

“Was she by herself?”

“At first. Then some other guy joined her.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t know him.”

“And this didn’t concern you?”

The barman’s eyes crinkled. “I thought he was trying to pick her up. My only concern was that she might wipe the floor with him.”

“What did he look like?”

He pondered. “Kind of nondescript. I didn’t really notice.”

Darcy stood by the empty chairs. “Did you know that she left her purse? Do you think Susan would go away but leave her purse?”

Granger gripped the bartender by the shoulders. “Did you see where she went?”

The barkeep shook his head. “No.”

“I did.” It was one of the waitresses. “She went to the ladies’ room. Her friend was helping her walk. She looked kinda sick.”

“Sick? As in ill?”

“Well, I’ve seen that look on her before.” She winked.

Granger plowed through the crowd, carving a path to the ladies’ room. Darcy followed. “Clear out!” Granger shouted. And then he kicked the flimsy door to pieces.

The ladies’ room was empty. But the rear window offered a view of the alley behind. And it was open.

“Goddamn it. Goddamn it!” Granger shouted. He pushed his head through the window. Nothing there.

“Do you know where she is?” Darcy asked. He was pacing in a small circle, running his fingers through his hair. “Did she go through the window? I think she could fit. Do you think Susan would crawl through the window?”

“No,” Granger said bitterly. “Not on her own.”

“Then… then… what… what do you think happened to her?”

Granger didn’t respond. Because as strange and stupid as Darcy seemed at times, he already knew the answer to that question.

He sat patiently by her bedside throughout the night, wiping her brow, stroking her face, brushing her hair. He could not have been more tender, more loving. Lying quiet like this, freed from the stress of the world, from the demons that plagued her, there was something almost angelic about her countenance. She wore no jewelry, no finger paint, no hair dye, not even makeup. Pure as the day she was born.

He felt an aching yearning for her. With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven coveted her and me…

When at last she woke, the face she saw first was smiling.

“Good morning, sweet Susan.”

“W-W-Www…” She licked her lips, stretched her jaw as if breaking it in for the first time. “Where…”

“You’re with me, my darling. In my safekeeping.”

“I’m alive?” She looked around as much as possible, given her restraints.