Already Gone (26 page)

I tell Oscar I’ve changed my mind about the tomatoes and ask for a bottle of whiskey instead.

He sells it to me without a word.

When I get home, I set the package on the counter, take a glass from the cabinet and pour myself a drink.

Diane is sitting outside on the porch with a book open on her lap. When she hears me, she stands in the doorway and says, “What did he say?”

“I didn’t call him.”

“What?” She slaps the book closed. “Why not?”

“It wasn’t the right thing to do,” I say. “Doug is involved in this, too, and I don’t want to get him in any more trouble than he’s already in.”

“But—”

I pick up the glass and take a drink.

“And now you’re drinking again?”

“That’s right,” I say. “I’m drinking again.”

Diane crosses the room to the bar. When she sees the package she stops. “What’s this?”

“It was delivered to the market,” I say. “Oscar signed for it.”

“Did you open it?”

I nod, take another drink.

“Who sent it?”

“Gabby.”

Diane raises one hand to her mouth. She sets her book on the bar and walks around to the counter, slow. “He knows we’re here?”

“It looks that way.”

“What is it?”

“Open it, see for yourself.”

Diane pulls the box toward her, lifts the top, and looks inside. “Oh my God.”

I turn away and pour another drink.

Diane is silent.

“There was a note.”

“Where is it?”

I take the crumpled yellow Post-it out of my pocket and read,
“I’m sorry, Jake. Gabby.”

“He’s sorry?” Diane takes the note from me. “That’s all it says?”

“That’s all.”

She flips the note over and checks the back, then drops it next to the package. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

Diane turns back to the box. She reaches inside and lifts out the dove statue. Then she sets it on the counter and runs her hands over the surface. “My God, it’s still sealed.”

I take another drink.

“Do you see what this is?” She looks at me, her eyes wide, glowing. “He’s trying to make amends. He knows he made a mistake, and he wants to make it up to you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What else could it be?”

I tell her I don’t know, and it’s the truth.

I reach for the bottle to pour another drink, and then I feel Diane’s hand on top of mine, stopping me.

“Don’t,” she says. “Not tonight.”

I set the bottle down.

“Don’t you see? We’re free.” She leans forward and kisses me. “It’s over.”

I start to tell her that the police might see things differently back home, but then I notice the way she’s looking at me, and the words don’t come out.

She kisses me again, then takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom. For the moment, nothing else matters.

That night, lying next to Diane and staring up at the ceiling fan as it moves hot air through the room, I try to think of all the reasons Gabby might’ve sent the statue.

I know that everything he does, he does for a reason, but I can’t figure this one out.

What bothers me most is the note.

I tell myself it’s possible that Diane is right, and that Gabby sent the bird as an apology, but in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never once heard Gabby say he was sorry. The idea that he’d start now just doesn’t make sense.

There has to be another reason.

I stay awake for a long time, going over every possibility. When sleep finally comes, it covers me like a wave, dark and dreamless.

When I wake up the next morning, I’m alone.

I sit up then slip on my pants and walk out to the kitchen. I take a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drink half of it, then cross the living room to the sliding glass doors and look out at the ocean.

I don’t see Diane.

I finish the water, then set the empty bottle on the bar and call her name. There’s no answer, so I open the glass doors and step outside. Diane isn’t on the porch, but there are two couch pillows on the floor in the corner.

I walk over and pick them up.

The dove statue is lying underneath, broken and empty.

Both the .38 and the SUV are gone, so I walk down the path to the beach and head south into town. Once I get there, I go into the market and ask Oscar if he’s seen Diane.

“Not today,” Oscar says. “Is she coming in?”

I tell him I don’t know, then describe the SUV and ask if he’s seen it around town.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

I brush it off, say, “She’ll show up. We’re celebrating tonight.”

Oscar smiles, then reaches behind the counter and pulls out a bottle of red wine. He hands it to me. “For your celebration?”

I smile. “I’ll take it.”

Before I leave, I buy two steaks, several peppers, and another bottle of whiskey to go along with the wine. Oscar puts it all in a white canvas bag and hands it to me over the counter. I thank him, then walk out into the sunlight.

On my way home, I stop at the pay phone and call Doug. I let the phone ring several times, but he doesn’t answer.

I hang up and dial his office number.

I’m not sure what day it is, but when he doesn’t answer his office phone, I tell myself that he’s probably in class, and there’s no reason to worry.

I don’t leave a message.

I slip the bag’s canvas strap over my shoulder and walk down to the beach. On the way home, I stop and sit next to one of the wooden no-swimming signs and watch the sunlight reflect white off the surface of the water.

I stay there for a long time, letting the image burn into me. Then I take the whiskey bottle from the bag, break the seal, and drink.

Diane still isn’t back that afternoon.

I wait until evening, and then I take the steaks and peppers out to the grill to cook. I stand over them with a spatula in one hand and the open wine bottle in the other while the sun drops below the horizon and the sky above me burns itself black.

When the steaks are done, I put them on two plates and set them on the kitchen table. I finish mine, then switch plates and eat Diane’s, too, washing them down with the rest of the wine.

I stack the plates on top of each other and drop them in the sink. Then I grab the whiskey bottle and go back to the table.

A minute later, someone knocks at the door.

At first I think it’s my imagination, and I don’t move. Then the knocking comes again, louder this time.

I push myself up and start down the hallway toward the front of the house.

I slide the bolt lock and open the door.

Gabby is standing outside with an older man I don’t recognize. Gabby smiles, the other one doesn’t.

“Hello, Jake,” he says. “You sure are a hard man to find.”

I don’t move, and for a while we just stand there on the front porch, staring at each other.

Then Gabby motions past me and says, “Can we talk?”

“She’s gone,” I say. “If that’s why you’re here.”

“I know she’s gone, and no, that’s not why I’m here.” He pauses. “You going to let me in or not?”

I hesitate, then step back, holding the door.

Gabby walks in first, looking around the living room as he does. The other man follows.

“You’ve been down here this whole time?”

“How’d you find me?”

“Not important.” He snaps his fingers and points. “Did you get the gift?”

“Was that what it was?”

“Depends how you look at it,” he says. “I think I did you a favor and showed you her true colors. That sounds like a gift to me.”

I think about the note and the apology. All at once, everything clicks into place. Gabby had to be right. He knew what would happen when he sent the statue, and he knew what Diane would do when she saw the diamonds. This was his way of proving to me that he was right about her all along.

He wasn’t apologizing for what he’d done back home. He was apologizing for what he knew was coming, what he knew she’d do.

“You knew what was going to happen.”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out, kid. You were just too close to see her for what she was.”

Even faced with the facts, a part of me still doesn’t believe it’s true. A part of me still believes she loved me, that not all of it was a lie. But this time, I keep that part of me quiet.

“Like I said, she’s not here.” I walk past them and into the kitchen. “She took the diamonds, and I don’t know where she is.”

They follow me.

“We know,” Gabby says. “But don’t worry about that. We’ll get to her. Tonight, I’m here to see you.”

The tone of his voice is cold and feels like a frost crawling along my spine. I reach down and take the whiskey bottle off the table and drink.

I tell myself I won’t be afraid.

Gabby walks to the sliding glass doors and looks out at the darkness. He doesn’t speak.

“So what do you want?” I take another drink. “Did you come to thank me for saving your life?”

Gabby laughs, then turns around and looks at me. “That’s right, Jake. That’s exactly why I’m here.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and pats my cheek with the other. “Thank you.”

I look down at the bottle in my hand, but I don’t think I have the strength to lift it.

“This is a nice place.” Gabby looks at the old man standing along the wall, then points to the glass doors. “Did you see how close we are to the water?”

The old man shakes his head, doesn’t speak.

“Is it easy to get down there?”

I feel my stomach twist. I nod, silent.

“Well, come on then, show me the way. I love the ocean at night.”

My legs feel weak, but I manage to walk over to the table and set the whiskey bottle down. I motion to the doors leading out onto the porch. “After you.”

“You lead the way,” Gabby says. “It’s your house.”

I pull the doors open, and we all walk out onto the porch and down the steps to the long path leading to the sea. There are no stars tonight, just the full moon, cold and bright against a depthless black sky.

When we get to the water, I stop and let the waves roll in over my feet. Gabby stands next to me, and we stay there for a long time, staring out at the reflection of the moon on the ocean.

The sea is loud, and I focus on the sound until the world drops away and that’s all that’s left.

A few minutes pass. Then Gabby turns and looks at me. “We can’t stay, Jake.”

“I know.”

“I wish you would’ve trusted me.” He shakes his head. “Things could’ve been different.”

I don’t look at him, just stare out at the moon and listen to the roar of the sea. “They are what they are.”

Gabby frowns. “You’re right about that.”

He looks past me and nods to the man standing behind us, then he puts his hands on my shoulders and squeezes.

He lets go and walks away.

Behind me, the old man steps closer.

I close my eyes and focus on the sound of the sea.

I tell myself I’m not afraid, but I still jump when I hear the gunshot.

It takes a minute before I realize I’m still standing.

I hear movement behind me, and when I turn around, the old man is lying on the ground. Blood is blooming out from a hole in his shirt, soaking into the cloth. He claws at the sand, once, then stops and doesn’t move again.

Gabby is looking back toward the house, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to decide which way to go. I follow his gaze and see Diane walking down the beach from the path. She has Doug’s .38, and she’s aiming it at Gabby.

As she gets closer, he turns to me and laughs.

“Jake?”

Then Diane pulls the trigger.

“Come on,” Diane says. “Help me.”

She hands me the .38 then bends down and lifts the old man’s legs. Gabby is lying facedown a few feet away, and I can’t take my eyes off him.

“Help me.”

I slip the .38 into the back of my belt, then come around and lift the old man’s shoulders. Together we drag him into the surf and float him out as far as we can.

Even in a few feet of water, the current is strong.

It pulls at us as we walk back to shore.

Diane runs over to Gabby’s body and tries to turn him onto his back. I follow her, slow.

“We have to hurry,” she says. “What are you doing?”

I can’t think of what to say, so I start with the obvious question. “Where were you?”

Diane takes a breath, and I see her shoulders drop. “Can we do this later?”

“I want to know.”

“I left,” she says. “I stayed up all night thinking about that note and wondering why he sent you the statue. The more I thought about it, the more I knew he was coming, so I took the diamonds and the gun and hid from him, and from you.”

“Why?”

“Because he wanted to kill us, that’s why.” She holds out her hands. “This was the only plan that would work. He expected me to leave, so he had to think I did.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “Why did you just leave without a word?”

“You would’ve tried to talk me out of it, and I would’ve let you.” She looks up and smiles. “I couldn’t do that this time. I knew I was right.”

I can’t argue with her, and I don’t.

Instead I say, “Why did you come back?”

Diane’s eyes go wide, and she smiles. “Why do you think I came back?” She shakes her head and laughs under her breath. “I love you, Jake.”

A few seconds pass. Diane grabs Gabby’s shoulder and tries again to turn him over. “Will you give me a hand, please?”

I get down next to her and we push him over onto his back. When we do, he stares up at us, his mouth opening and closing, silent.

“Jesus,” I say. “He’s still alive.”

Diane ignores me. She walks around and lifts his legs, then nods toward his head. “Come on, we have to do this.”

“But he’s still alive.”

“Pick him up.”

I hesitate, then grab Gabby’s shoulders. We drag him down the beach toward the water. Gabby is whispering something, but the sea is loud, and his words are lost in the sound.

We push him out into the surf and let the tide take him. Then Diane and I stand at the edge of the water and watch as the currents pull him away from the shore.

Silent.

After a few minutes, I ask, “Now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where do we go from here?”

“Anywhere we want,” she says. “We’re free.”

Somewhere, far from shore, I think I hear Gabby crying out to me. I tell myself it’s just the wind.

Diane steps closer and leans into me.

I slide my arm around her shoulders, and we stand like that for a long time, staring out at the sea.

“I love you, Jake. Do you know that?”

I look down and see her eyes, clear and bright in the moonlight. It makes me smile.

“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”