Bottled Abyss (23 page)

That was a dumb question. She’d been so out of control at the time, she probably wouldn’t have shared anything like this with her either. Even in the present, Janet was keeping the bottle a secret from Faye and Evan, who, for all their faults, she could confide in. So, it made sense Herman hadn’t spoken to her about it.

He had tried though, hadn’t he?

I’ll get you the magic water like I did for Lester. Hold on baby. Hold on!

He must have buried the bottle in the desert and Lester, not knowing any better, dug it up and brought it back home.

Oh Herman…

She lost it again and returned to the bed, sobbing. After giving herself a tremendous headache and burning eyes, Janet got control and pulled herself into a tight ball.
How did this Fury Person know about that bottle? For Christ’s sake—what was this all about?

For an hour she prayed for another phone call, but none came.

“Something’s going on at Sam’s house.”

Janet opened her eyes and saw Evan standing over her. He smelled richly of that cologne she should have never told him she loved. He had a different shirt on than last time she’d seen him, this one green with black stripes, almost Freddy Krugerish; the pattern struck her as very annoying at this time of morning.

It wasn’t really morning though. The clock read
11:52am
.

She pushed up on her shaky arms. “Why are you in my bedroom, Evan?”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“What?”

He pushed his glasses up his nose. Despite his shirt, she had to admit he looked very handsome in the slats of light coming though the blinds.

“Your neighbor, Sam. There’s an ambulance and police outside his house.”

Janet threw the comforter off, slid out of bed and snatched her robe off the door hook. She thrust her feet into her slippers.

“Did they just get here?”

“Not too long ago,” said Evan, following behind her, “I thought you’d wake up with the sirens, but you were pretty out of it.”

She hurried out the front door into the sun drenched world outside. Her hands came to her mouth as she saw the paramedics pushing the stretcher down the driveway. She glanced at Evan in disbelief. His face was grim.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, turning back around. “Sam?”

She crossed the street and immediately a cop with a stringy red mustache moved to intercept her. “Good morning, ma’am. My name is Officer Myrtle.”

“Hi. Janet Erikson.”

“Did you know Mr. Gerdes?”

“Yes,” she breathed, “we were… friends.”

Janet looked over his shoulder. The young woman who took guitar lessons from Sam spoke to a short police officer with a piggish nose and sympathetic blue eyes. The scene was dreamlike.

“Do you know Ms. Derry?” Myrtle asked Janet.

“Only that she takes music lessons from Sam—what happened here?”

“We can’t share that right now, I’m sorry.”

Janet could hear the younger woman explain, “Yes, that’s when I saw through the window to the living room— the vomit everywhere— I thought maybe he’d just become very sick.”

Myrtle overheard this as well and winced. “Could you stand just over there, Janet, back a ways—”

“He was sick?” Janet asked.

The cop pressed his lips together forcefully, tweaking his mustache in the process. “Sam a heavy drinker?”

Janet huffed. “You wouldn’t find even a light beer in his house. He doesn’t touch booze. Straighter than straight edge.”

The cop frowned. He turned, making a
hmmph
sound. The other interview ended and Ms. Derry and his partner walked down the lawn.

The dumpy cop leaned into Myrtle. “Yeah, they blew this one. Should have left it open. There weren’t booze bottles or pills in there at all.”

“Could have come home from a bar?”

The pig-nosed cop arched his eyebrow and lowered his voice even more, though Janet could still pick up the words. “He backed his pickup into the driveway. No way you’re gonna be that fucked up and back in perfectly straight like that.”

“Why would you think he was drunk?” Janet interrupted. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Myrtle’s mustache smiled with him. “We’ll have to determine that at another time.” From his back pocket he gave Janet and the
Derry
woman business cards. “That’s not me. It’s a Detective James Ettings. He may contact with further questions. Please try to remember and write down all your recent interactions with the—”

“Sam,” his partner supplied, tucking his thumbs into his belt.

“We are so sorry about your friend,” added Myrtle.

Janet took the card and watched the cops climb into their squad car. Taking a long breath, Ms. Derry stepped closer to her, a smallish woman, just a few inches taller than Faye but carrying more weight and looking several degrees more severe.

“They think it’s alcohol poisoning,” said
Derry
. “I can tell by the questions they were asking.”

“He didn’t drink.”

“That’s what I told them.”

“Poor Sam.”

“Yeah,” said Derry. The woman silently moved away and headed for her powder blue Buick. An acoustic guitar leaned against its passenger door.

Janet wheeled around for the house. Evan had watched everything transpire from the sidewalk.

“What happened to Sam?” he asked as she walked by. “You gonna tell me?”

“He died,” she said, “just like everyone else.”

“Hey,” he snapped.

She went through the front door and noticed now that the living room had been tidied this morning. “Where the hell is Faye? She knew Sam too.”

“She’s out doing errands.”

“Next time go with.”

“Don’t worry, I will. She just didn’t want you to be left alone without a vehicle.”

“What?”

“She took your truck to get washed.”

Janet couldn’t believe her ears. “Why would she do such a thing?”

“I don’t know,” said Evan, “maybe because it hasn’t been washed or vacuumed in over a month? She’s on the job. Busy, busy. That’s what Faye does, or hadn’t you noticed?”

Holy shit
. The coin and the bottle were still in the truck. She didn’t care if some car wash employee stole the coin; they could have the filthy thing. But the bottle…if she lost that, she lost a big piece to the puzzle of Herman’s disappearance, as well as an item of infinite curiosity.

“Does she have her cell phone?”

“Of course she does. What’s gotten into you?”

“Give me your phone.”

Evan shook his head and dipped into his pocket. He handed her his Blackberry. Janet pulled up Faye’s number and called.

“Hi honey,” said Faye on the second ring.

“Faye, it’s me.”

“Oh hi babe.”

Evan leaned into her ear with a cautious whisper, “Don’t freak her out about Sam. She drives nuts when she’s sad.”

“Faye, did you see a bottle on the front seat?”

“Bottle? Again with this bottle, what is it?” asked Evan.

Janet put her hand over his mouth and he stepped away, indignant.

“Sure did,” answered Faye. “I put it in the center console. There wasn’t anything in it. Pretty thing. Where’d you buy it? I want one.”

“Where are you now?”

“Waiting for them to finish up the interior. I also found this weird coin on the dashboard. What is it?”

“Nothing, a knickknack.”

“Oh okay, well I’ve got it,” Faye lowered her voice, “you know, so nobody would be tempted to steal it.”

“That’s fine. Just make sure the bottle’s there too.”

“Oh babe, don’t worry. I’ll kick these people’s asses if they try to take your stuff.”

Janet smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, bye.”

Janet handed Evan back the phone.

“So this bottle…” he started.

In the bedroom, Janet’s phone rang. The sound sent shards of ice into her stomach.
Was it the Fury again?

She hurried into the bedroom. The phone’s display indicated she’d missed many calls from the same person this morning.
Must have slept right through the ringing
. She was strangely relieved the caller had been Officer Davis.

“Hello.”

“Oh great. Hi. Finally reached you. I just wanted to check in, Mrs. Erikson. They’re moving on Herman’s case.”

“Thanks, Officer Davis.”

“You can call me Becca.”

“Thanks Becca. I need to—”

“So terrible what happened, huh? I feel half insane with disbelief.”

Janet straightened. “Oh, you already heard about Sam? Did you know him?”

“Sam? I’m sorry?”

“My next door neighbor. He died this morning.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. No this isn’t about that…
God
. No, I thought you might have heard from one of the other parents at the Horrace daycare.”

“No…”

“Mrs. Horrace had some kind of fatal accident.”

“
What?
”

“Things are a bit confused over there right now and we’re not going to get any straight answers for a while. One of the parents I know, Jerry Barron’s mom, she said the last people to see Mrs. Horrace were some of the older kids. Jerry had just had an argument with her before she disappeared. He says she took his play money away and headed right for the bathroom, which, you know, from her injuries wouldn’t make sense.”

“What injuries?”

Davis
hesitated. “You want to know? Really?”

“Yes, I do.”