When Darkness Falls(34)

Haley shook her head. “Not enough cash. My husband forgot to get me.”

“I take Visa.”

“No credit either.” They’d charged to the limit on her Visa, and the credit card they’d gotten together and saved for emergencies was at home.

The driver frowned. “How much you have?”

“Five dollars.”

“Where’s home?”

She gave him the address. He took off his glasses, wiped the lenses on his shirt, and put them back on. Sighed.

“Get in. Not many fares tonight anyway.”

He switched off the meter.

“Tell your husband to show next time,” he said when she paid him and thanked him. “He should not be leaving you to walk home, not with a serial killer loose. Not ever.”

“Thank you again.”

The apartment felt hot, the air heavy, with a musty attic smell Haley hadn’t noticed before. She had trouble getting a good breath. No wonder Devon always felt panicky.

She fumbled for the wall switch, turning on the uplights she’d bought to put beneath the plants. Light glowed against the far wall, enough so she could see Devon lying on the couch. He lay so still, her heart stuttered, but she saw his chest rise and fall. Asleep. He was asleep. Not sick, not in trouble. She dropped her bags with a thud, kicked the door shut. He had forgotten her after insisting he would meet her train, and he’d slept right through the ringing phone when she’d called from the station.

The kitchen area felt more stifling than the living room. Haley turned on the ceiling fan and sat at the table. She was tired, but she checked their account balances on line to see if there would be enough to last until she got paid next Friday. She transferred what she could from their joint bank account without closing it out. They cut things close these days, but it looked like they’d be all right if neither of them spent on eating out or entertainment. Or anything except paying bills. Though she hadn’t meant to bother tonight, she scrolled through the account entries. Something had been nagging at her during the train ride from Milwaukee, when she’d been mentally trying to figure out exactly how much their monthly expenses were and how much money they would need if she went back to school.

It was the grocery bills. They used a debit card when they shopped, so there was a record of each grocery store purchase. Since she and Devon had gotten married, they’d spent less than half what she and Brian had. Yet they rarely ate out, given Devon’s fear of leaving the apartment.

Haley stared at the cardboarded window, trying to remember when she’d last seen Devon eat. On her workdays, he was down at the Underground by the time she got home. When she wasn’t working, they often ate while watching movies or down in the bar with Al, and she hadn’t paid attention to Devon’s eating habits. Especially since he was usually the one to clear away the dishes and wash them.

Shaking her head, Haley signed out of the bank’s website. It was late. Her thoughts had become fuzzy. Of course Devon was eating. He was still alive. He hadn’t lost weight. She would just go to bed.

Instead, she opened the refrigerator, half-expecting a mountain of citrus fruit like she’d found before. Instead, everything looked fairly normal, the way she’d left it. In fact, exactly the way she’d left it. The orange juice container was one third full, the milk was unopened, and the five cups of yogurt she’d bought lined the top shelf in the door. In the cooler were the oranges left from Devon’s buying spree, and five apples she’d bought.

Haley flipped open the garbage pail. The liner she’d put in on Thursday night was still in there and still clean, and at the bottom was the receipt for the groceries she’d bought the night before she’d left. She compared the list to the items in the fridge. Something must be gone. Something.

Nothing.

The small circle of light over the sink seemed to dim as she stared at it, its luminescence absorbed by the surrounding darkness. The cardboard muffled the outdoor street sounds. Haley heard only the refrigerator humming instead of the usual brakes squealing and horns honking.

She was spooking herself over nothing. She went to the window and peeled away the tape, scraping it with her fingernails. When the last of it came off, she knocked the cardboard out of the window frame. Car headlights and streetlights flooded the room. Blessed, beautiful light. Haley fumbled with the storm window and shoved that open, too.

Cool, pollution-tinged city air rushed in, but it was still air, with dampness and wind and nighttime in it. She inhaled.

“Haley?” Devon called from the living room. “That you?”

“In the kitchen.”

Her back was to the doorway, so she heard rather than saw him walk across the living room floor.

“Are you crazy?” he said.

“I’m breathing.” Haley turned to face him. “For once. I can’t live closed in like this.”

“You think I like it?” Devon stood with his hands out, braced on either side of the doorway.

“It’s air. It’s not going to reach out and pull you out the window.”

Devon glanced at the clock on the microwave. “What time is it?”

“Two hours after you were supposed to pick me up.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

“Didn’t you set the alarm?”

“I would have if I’d known I was going to fall asleep.”