214 Palmer Street(60)

Jeremy wasn’t going for it. “How could you?” he said, his voice rising with each word. He ran at Gavin and pushed him with both hands. “You knew I liked her! How could you?”

“Hey!” Gavin caught his balance and braced himself. “Stop it.”

Kirk, who’d suspected Gavin and Clarice were hooking up, was still shocked speechless to see actual evidence right in front of him.

Jeremy’s skinny arms flailed, pounding nonstop on Gavin’s chest. While Gavin held him off, he tried to defuse the situation. With a smirk on his face, he said, “This isn’t resolving anything, Jeremy. Let’s settle down and talk.”

Clarice got up from the cot, letting the throw drop, startling all of them into stunned silence. For so long Kirk had wondered what she looked like naked, but seeing her expose herself to all three of them at once seemed indecent. She turned to grab the machete off the shelf, giving them a view of her backside and long legs, then swung it toward them.

“Bad boys,” she said with a laugh. “All of you are such bad boys.” From her voice, it was clear she’d been drinking. She waved the machete back and forth, sword-play style, putting one hand on her hip. “You’d like a piece of me, wouldn’t you?”

“Put that down,” Kirk said, “before you hurt someone.”

They were mesmerized by her blatant nudity. All three guys stood there, watching her wield the weapon, each one taking a step back when she got too close. Gavin was the first to recover his wits, grabbing his shoes and socks off the floor. “Clarice, it’s not funny. Get dressed.”

Kirk moved in to take the machete out of her hands. “Hand it over, Clarice. Give it to me.”

“Make me,” she said and laughed, twirling around. Both Jeremy and Kirk edged closer in order to grab the machete, but her nudity made them hesitant. Over and over again she taunted them, letting them approach and then waving the machete in their direction, forcing them to step back.

All of the attention was aimed her way. It was Clarice’s favorite kind of game; she had something they wanted and she wasn’t going to give it up too easily.

If only they’d left then, all three of them. If only they’d retreated, walked up the steps and out of the bomb shelter together. Without an audience, Clarice would have been forced to put the machete down, get dressed, and go home.

More importantly, Jeremy would still be alive.





THIRTY-NINE





From my hiding spot behind the shrubbery, I saw it all.

Sarah had been down in the hole for only a few minutes when Kirk came bursting out of the park followed by Gavin, who held a flashlight in one hand. From his other hand a gun with an attached silencer hung loosely by his side. My mouth dropped open at the sight of the gun. What in the world? Gavin had his uniform on, which I found confusing. Was this an official visit? Had someone in the neighborhood made a complaint?

But if that was the case, why would Kirk be accompanying him on official police business? It seemed more likely that this visit was personal.

I lifted my phone, taking picture after picture.

I kept spying, straining to hear their talk. It sounded as if Gavin was in charge, while Kirk seemed unsure of what was going on. I heard Kirk ask about Sarah, and Gavin answered, saying, “I think she’s down there now. Why don’t you take a look?”

And then, as Kirk peered down into the opening, calling out his wife’s name, Gavin tucked the flashlight under his arm, came up behind him and gave his back a shove, deliberately pushing him down the stairs. I recorded all of it through my phone, picture after picture, and watched, aghast, but also oddly fascinated, like this was a movie with a surprise twist at the end. I’d known both of these men since I was a young teen, but I had the feeling only now was I seeing who they really were. Especially Gavin, who trotted down the steps after he’d committed this act of violence, whistling as he went. I heard some commotion from down below, voices that sounded anguished, and after that, shouts I recognized as Gavin’s.

I stopped taking pictures and clicked over to phone mode, tapped out three numbers. The dispatcher, a woman with a strong clear voice answered, saying, “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

I said, “This is Stephanie Bickley. I’m at 214 Palmer Street. There’s a man armed with a gun in the backyard, holding two people hostage. You need to send someone right away. Tell them to hurry!”





FORTY





As Sarah got down on her knees, trying to think of ways to escape, Kirk kept talking. “Gavin, I understand why you’re upset, but we can fix this. You know I can keep a secret,” he said with a note of gentle reassurance. “And I can vouch for Sarah too.” He lowered his hands to take off his glasses, which he wiped with the corner of his shirt. The movement was casual as if the smudge on a lens was his most immediate concern. “Clarice has always been a problem so I understand you did what you had to do, but you and me? We’ve always gotten along. You’re the brother I never had.”

His strategy seemed to be working. Gavin’s stance was more relaxed. “Clarice always was a problem,” he repeated, his voice still belligerent, but less angry. “Never knew when to quit.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Kirk sighed. “If it weren’t for her killing Jeremy in the first place, none of us would be here.” His eyes darted over to his wife. “I wanted to tell you, Sarah, but I didn’t want you involved in this. Jeremy was crazy in love with Clarice so when he and I came down here that night and saw Gavin and Clarice together, he was devastated. Poor guy. He and Gavin got into a fight and Clarice started waving the machete. She’d been drinking and was completely irrational.” He took a deep breath. “Wouldn’t listen to a word anyone said.”