The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2) (14 page)

Sea
n
McKenna pretended like he was reading the newspaper as Eddie pulled out of the parking lot. He watched the reporters and cameramen practically chase Eddie’s car onto the street.

Sean smiled.

He knew where Eddie drank, where Eddie worked, what car Eddie drove, and in a few minutes he might know where Eddie lived.

Sean pulled out of the parking lot and turned left like Eddie had. He caught up to Eddie’s car and kept a discreet distance.

A few minutes up the road, Eddie’s brake lights came on. Sean saw the small two-story house just off the street to his left. Eddie put his turn signal on. Sean slowed to a crawl so he didn’t get too close to Eddie.

Eddie turned into the thin, short strip of driveway. The house looked empty, like only Eddie lived there. But Sean couldn’t be sure. As much as he wanted to jump out of the car and do the deed, he had to be careful.

Patience was the virtue that would help him commit the sin.

Sean drove past the house and after the next bend in the road looked for a good place to pull off. Another minute ahead, the road widened and there was an entry that led to a camping ground.

Sean parked.

He’d come prepared. One of his friends had been a locksmith for a time and had taught Sean how to get doors open. Sean had purchased a lock-picking set and also had a pair of binocs with him. He grabbed his backpack off the passenger seat, made sure all his tools were in it.

Including the gun.

Sean got out of the car and crossed the street and climbed the wooded hill till he was reasonably out of sight from the road. Then he backtracked through the woods. In the ten minutes it took him to get back to Eddie’s, not a single car passed.

He stopped where he could just see the house from the woods and peered through the binocs. From his vantage point on top of the hill’s slope, he could see through two windows on the second floor. He could see a coffee table covered with books and a couch.

A light flicked on in an outlet window. Probably the bathroom. Then the light went off and Sean checked the two windows again.

Eddie came into view. He went right for the couch and practically fell into it. He covered himself with a blanket.

Sean could barely believe his luck.

All Sean needed was fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Just enough time to allow Eddie to reach a deep enough sleep that he could get into the house. Once he was in the house, Eddie couldn’t get away.

He just needed to make sure Eddie was alone.

Patience.

Sean waited a few minutes, hoping Eddie would drift off. He kept his binocs trained on the window giving him a view of the couch. Eddie turned to his other side once, then didn’t move much.

Sean waited ten more minutes. He was certain Eddie was asleep when he put his binocs away and crept toward the house.

If anybody else lived there, it would look suspicious if they saw him come out of the woods. So Sean went down the hill and walked along the roadside. With his backpack, he’d look like he was just out for a hike. He put on a big pair of sunglasses and a wool hat and wrapped a scarf around his neck. The three days of stubble helped. If Eddie saw him, he might not recognize him.

He didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him because no cars passed. He slowed as he neared the house and kept his head forward but turned his eyes sideways at the house. There were no other cars. Spiderwebs filled the corners of the porch.

He decided to take a chance and came to a dead stop and peered through the windows of the first floor. There was furniture, but no lights were on. Maybe somebody else lived there but they weren’t around.

Sean stepped onto the porch and put his face up to the window. Aside from the furniture, the first floor was empty. The coffee table bare. Who didn’t cover their coffee table with random shit? Then he spotted the TV-less entertainment center.

Nobody lived on the first floor.

Sean heard a car coming and dropped soundlessly to his hands and knees on the porch. He waited for it to pass then thought about what to do.

This wasn’t enough surveillance but at the same time, Sean didn’t want to wait any longer. He’d waited five years for this moment and that was long enough.

He jumped the porch railing and went to the side of the house. It was foolish to attempt entry by the front door. He could be spotted too easily.

Around the side of the house, he saw another windowed door. He wondered if Eddie had used that to reach the second floor. Maybe the owners rented that space out.

Sean peered through the door and saw the stairs leading up to the second floor. At the top of the steps was another door. He was right. It looked like the two floors were maintained as separate spaces.

And he was right up there. Asleep.

Sean hesitated. Could he really do this in broad daylight?

The answer was yes.

Fuck yes.

The house sat alone on a quiet stretch of road. Anybody driving the speed limit might not even see him as he picked the lock on the side of the house. And if anybody did see him, he’d have his back to the road and Eddie’s car was parked in the driveway. They’d just assume he lived there.

If they bothered to think that much about it.

Sean unzipped the backpack. He already had his gloves on so there was no fear of leaving any prints. Then he opened his lock picking kit. He took out a tension wrench and a hook pick. He put the backpack down and took a deep breath.

He’d be inside Eddie’s apartment in two minutes.

This was it.

He wouldn’t kill Eddie right away. They were going to have a chat first. Sean would remind Eddie of his part in Sean’s son’s death. He’d make Eddie say his son’s name, Steven. Then he’d put a couple slugs in Eddie’s gut and watch him bleed.

He put the tension wrench into the lower part of the keyhole and turned it clockwise, then counterclockwise. The lock gave more when he turned the wrench clockwise, so he knew the lock had to be turned in that direction. He applied a little pressure to keep the lock turned slightly that way.

Next he slid the hook pick into the upper part of the keyhole, above the tension wrench. He raked the hook pick across the pins inside the lock to see if any would set for him easily but no such luck. He’d have to set them all individually.

He slid the hook pick as far back as it would go so he could start on the last pick. He fidgeted with the pick and heard a faint click as he got the pin set.

He moved on to the next pin.

Sean got that one set with only a few movements. This was going to be easy.

The next two pins were more difficult but fell into place after some prodding. He was pretty sure there were only five pins—that was standard for most doors and his hook pick was almost completely out of the keyhole. So just one more, and he’d be inside. The door at the top of the stairs looked flimsy. He could pick that or just as easily kick it in. He’d be five feet from Eddie with his gun drawn before Eddie fully roused from sleep.

He applied a little more pressure with the tension wrench, moving it clockwise, and found the last pin. He nudged it down but it wouldn’t set. He re-angled his pick and pushed again.

The last pin set.

He turned the tension wrench and the lock opened, not making much noise.

His heart was racing now. A knot formed in his stomach. Sean grabbed his backpack and put his tools away and had his hand on the knob when he heard a car.

It was moving slowly and then he heard its tires eat gravel.

It was turning into the driveway.

Sean zipped the backpack and sprinted toward the rear of the property. He ran through the tree line, up the hill, and got behind some pines. He peered between the trees and watched as a young woman he recognized from the grocery store walked to the door he’d just unlocked and go inside.

Eddi
e
was having the nightmare again.

It was different than what had happened in real life, because in the dream he had the vision, the ominous foresight that his brother was going to be knifed on the stairway. Always he tried to talk Tim out of going up there, but Tim never listened.

The dream started with Tim pounding on the McKennas’ front door, demanding to be let in. In reality, Chefaun McKenna had opened the door and they’d argued outside, but in the dream Sean McKenna opened the door and let them in. Like all dreams, the story had lost its continuity long ago. Tim was stabbed with gut-wrenching finality but then he and Eddie were back in the dining room, about to go upstairs.

“Don’t go. You’ll die,” Eddie was saying.

Tim usually didn’t answer, but this time he did. “I have to, don’t you get it? There’s a kid up there.”

But Eddie knew from reality what had happened to the kid upstairs. He was swimming in a pool of his own blood on a bean bag chair.

Before Eddie could say another word, Tim rounded the corner and his feet hit the stairs and Eddie hurried to catch him. Tim fell into his arms, the knife buried in his chest, blood spilling out of him.

“The kid’s already dead,” Eddie said as Tim writhed in his arms on the stairs.

Tim then opened his eyes and gave Eddie a stern look. “You’ve gotta control the environment. You understand? You’ve gotta control it.”

Eddie said, “We can’t.” But he wasn’t sure why he’d said that. Somehow he knew Tim was talking about Colin Winspear’s house but he couldn’t divine any other meaning from his brother’s words.

“If you don’t control it, you’ve got nothing,” Tim said.

The dream shifted. Tim was still there, but the scene around them had changed. The house disappeared and now they were in Eddie’s current apartment.

“Remember Mrs. Erhart? She was hot,” Tim said.

Eddie hadn’t thought about their art teacher from grade school in a long time. His mind called up an image of her but instead of her usual outfit, she was dressed crazily like Ana. Eddie looked down at his brother, but something about Tim was different now, and Eddie realized he wasn’t looking at his brother but some impostor.

Someone who was out to get him.

He had a terrifying feeling that he wasn’t alone in his apartment.

Dread filled him. The impostor was somewhere in the room, talking to him, but Eddie couldn’t see him.

And worse, he couldn’t move.

He couldn’t fucking move.

Then he spotted the person in the corner of the bedroom. He was just a dark shape.

“Eddie.”

Eddie willed himself to move, but he couldn’t. The man continued talking, but it came out as a mumble. He spoke in Tim’s voice and now Eddie was panicked.

“Eddie.”

Ana appeared in front of him and he sprang off the couch, his motion suddenly restored.

“Eddie, it’s just me,” Ana said. “Your door was open.”

He looked around the apartment, his eyes searching every corner. His chest felt hollow. His breath fast.

“Jesus, you okay?” Ana said.

He nodded absently, his senses coming to him. “Yeah, sleep paralysis. It’s a bitch.”

She brought him a glass of water. She was still dressed as she had been at work, with her khakis and button-down.

“Sleep paralysis is for real?” she asked.

He sipped the water. It felt good against his dry throat. “Yeah, but it’s not paranormal.”

“It’s not?”

He shook his head no. “At least for me, it isn’t. When we go to sleep, the brain releases some chemical that paralyzes us. That way, we don’t act out our dreams. Sometimes, things get all screwy and we start to wake up before the chemical is out of our system. In that space of time, we feel like we can’t move and we’re only partially awake. Whatever we’ve been dreaming about we see in the room with us.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Speaking of lovely, what brings you here? I told you to get some sleep.”

She smiled. “Jimbo was watching some dumb, loud action movie with Tony. And of course they needed the fucking surround sound on.”

Eddie forced himself not to say what he really wanted to say about Jimbo. “You need to sleep. You know, you’re not a kid anymore.”

She laughed. “If I’m not a kid, you’re a senior citizen. But anyway, that’s why I’m here. Can I crash here for a few hours?”

The red-blooded male in Eddie mentally undressed Ana quicker than his mind could formulate a response.

“Sure.”

“You don’t mind?”

“It’s fine.” He got up. “You take the couch. I’ll use the sleeping bag.”

“Okay.”

He watched her curl up on the couch and reflected on how bad an idea this was. He should not be alone with this girl. Last night’s escapades with Elsie had been fun but they’d done little to slake his desire for Ana.

Now here Ana was. And as much as she said she loved Jimbo, it was clear she wasn’t happy in the relationship.

But something she said struck him. “You said my door was unlocked?”

“Yeah.”

Being an ex-con, Eddie was usually paranoid enough to double-check every locked door.

He got up and locked the door at the top of the stairs. He usually left that one unlocked.

He settled onto the floor under his sleeping bag and turned away from her. He wondered why he’d dreamed of his art teacher, Ms. Erhart. She used to say something everyday, about how all art was a lie. About how every great artist only let people see what they wanted them to see.

“I’ve got my alarm set for six,” he said. “We’ll get some takeout then go to Bernie’s.”

“Okay,” she said sleepily.

Eddie forced himself not to think about the young woman on his couch and was tired enough to drift off to sleep.