Infinite(76)

Whenever they came back, they’d both be targets.

From my vantage in the grass, I could see the whole street. As I stood there, I noticed a gray sedan easing down the block, its lights on. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen it. The car reached the corner and turned, but I had the feeling it would be back. I was right. Less than ten minutes later, I saw it again, retracing its route down the street. This time, it pulled onto the park sidewalk near me and stopped.

A tall man with a skeletal appearance got out. He wore a wrinkled tan trench coat over a white shirt and baggy black pants. He had a casual, stooped walk, but he wasn’t out for a stroll. He headed straight for me.

It was Detective Harvey Bushing.

“Excuse me,” he called, pulling out his badge and introducing himself. “Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

“If you like.”

“Do you live around here?”

I nodded at the building across the street. “Yes, that’s my apartment right over there.”

“And your name is?”

“Dylan Moran.”

“Got any ID, Mr. Moran?”

I thought about arguing with him, but I pulled out a driver’s license and gave it to him, and he studied it with careful eyes. When he handed it back to me, he said in his monotone voice, “I’m just curious, Mr. Moran. If you live right over there, what are you doing in the park?”

“Enjoying the evening air,” I replied.

“Well, I’ve been down this street three times, and you haven’t moved. You just keep watching the building. Are you waiting for someone?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s just that most people go for a walk, or sit on the bench, or light up a smoke, or something like that. Not too many people stand there and stare at their own house.”

“Is that a crime?”

“Not at all.” But he was clearly waiting for an explanation, and the longer I made him wait, the more questions he’d ask.

“Look, Detective, I’ve lived in this area for most of my life. My grandfather owned the building, and he used to live in the upstairs apartment. He died a couple of years ago. We didn’t exactly have the best relationship, and sometimes I like to come out here and think about him. Is that okay with you?”

“Absolutely. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

Bushing reached into his trench coat and pulled out a photograph. “Since you know the area, maybe you can help me out here, Mr. Moran. Do you remember seeing this woman around the neighborhood?”

I didn’t need to squint in the diminishing light to see who it was. I recognized the picture from the headline in the Tribune, but that was in another world. It was Betsy Kern.

“No, I haven’t.”

“You sure? She only lives a couple of blocks away.”

“Sorry. I’m sure.”

“Well, she’s missing. She went out for a run in the park last night and never came back home. Her family’s pretty worried about her.”

“I wish I could help, but I haven’t seen her.”

“What about people hanging around in the park? Have you seen anyone who looked suspicious?”

“We get strange characters around here all the time, Detective. But lately? No one comes to mind.”

“Okay. Well, if you see anyone, please give us a call, Mr. Moran.”

“I’ll do that.”

Detective Bushing retraced his steps to his car. He got back inside but didn’t drive away, and I knew he was waiting to see what I would do. I couldn’t really wait outside any longer. I headed across the street toward my apartment building. When I got to the door, I was relieved that my key worked, and I went inside and closed the door behind me. On the street, Bushing’s gray sedan cruised past the building and disappeared.

I didn’t turn on any lights. I stayed in the shadowy hallway, looking across at the park, which was now sinking into the grip of night. Finally, I let myself into the downstairs apartment. It had a different smell, not like my place and not like the apartment where a different Dylan had lived with Tai. I couldn’t place what the aroma was. The only word that popped into my head to describe it was creamy, which wasn’t a smell at all. It reminded me of how our home used to smell when I was growing up with my parents.

The building itself was dead quiet. I didn’t feel the presence of my doppelg?nger or the aura of menace that followed him. The only sensation here was that strange creaminess, which I didn’t understand. Even so, I couldn’t afford to linger. I needed to make sure the apartment was empty, and then I needed to leave before the other Dylan and Karly came home. I didn’t want to risk leaving any footprints in their lives. I’d promised Roscoe I wouldn’t do that.

But I was too late.

I had just started down the hallway when the front door rattled behind me. I froze where I was, and there was no time to hide. The living room lights went on, blinding me.

When I could see again, there she was. Karly.

I captured that moment in my head like a photograph, because I knew it wouldn’t last. She wore a striped T-shirt and blue capris that hugged her willowy body. Heeled leather boots made her taller than me. Her hair was blonder and longer than my own Karly had kept it, and even her breasts seemed to swell larger from her torso than the woman I remembered. But her face was the same. Her blue eyes gravitated to mine like a magnet. Her mouth broke into a wide smile, and in that heartbreaking smile was everything I’d lost.