Warren Lane Page 18

  “Yes,” Ella said.

  “What have you been doing for the past three months?”

  “Recovering.”

  “From what? Did you have a drinking problem?”

  “In a way.”

  The mention of drinking brought her mind back to the day she first saw Ready at her window and recognized him as a fellow traveller. Yesterday, when she’d been in a less troubled frame of mind, the memory had brought her joy. Today, all she could think of was how, in the misery of her captivity, she’d tried to dig her claws into him, like a falling cat grabbing at the last branch of a tree. Before the day was done, the memory would present itself a dozen more times, and each time, depending on her mood, she would see something different in it.

  “You look pale,” the agent said. “How can you be so pale after all the sun we’ve had?”

  “I’ve always had fair skin,” Ella said. “But I haven’t been out in the past three months. And...yes, now I’m pale.”

  “Well, do yourself a favor and get outside. Go to the gym. Do something. Get some color back in your cheeks.”

  “I will,” Ella said, as she stood to leave.

  “I might have something for you in a week.”

  “Really?”

  “In Hawaii. A catalog shoot. Four models. It’s already arranged, but the blonde is a real bitch, and I’d like to send someone else, to teach her a lesson.”

  “Thank you,” Ella said.

  “I’ll let you know in a couple of days.”

  Chapter 52

  Ten days later, on a damp morning when the winds were cold and light, and a dark blanket of clouds hung over the marina, Rebecca appeared at the boat with a bag of groceries. Ready was on deck, cleaning the cabin windows with a dingy white rag.

  “It looks good,” Rebecca said.

  “You and Gary going to take her out?” Ready asked.

  “No. I don’t think we could be confined to a boat right now. We’d kill each other. I brought you some food.” She set the bag and her purse down on deck. “There’s a lot of healthy stuff in there. Carrots, celery, things to make juice.”

  “Thank you,” Ready said.

  “I ran into your sponsor yesterday. He said you’re having a tough time. I mean, not so much with staying clean. Just with life.”

  Ready shrugged. “It takes some getting used to, being sober all the time. My escape route is gone. I have to deal with everything head on.”

  “If you can actually do that,” Rebecca said, “you’ll be a lot better off than most people.”

  “And I have to deal with all the stuff I didn’t deal with when I was drinking.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like why did I treat myself so badly? What will I do with my life? How do I support myself without any skills? Things like that.”

  “Do you want to get off the boat?”

  “Yeah. I’m trying different things. Nothing sticks.”

  Rebecca took a deep breath and said, “Mark, you have to get out of here. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Gary really wants you gone.”

  Ready twirled the cleaning rag and looked out to sea.

  “Do you have anywhere to go?” Rebecca asked.

  “No. Maybe my sister’s.”

  “Where’s she?”

  “Seattle.”

  “I hope you like these clouds,” Rebecca said, pointing toward the sky.

  “I don’t.”

  Rebecca’s phone rang inside her purse. “Well you better get on it, Mark. Find a place to go. Promise me you’ll keep in touch, and let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “I will.”

  She dug around in her purse for the phone then finally dumped the whole bag out on deck. She picked up the phone from a pile of letters and said, “Hello?”

  She listened for a moment then said, “I’m on the boat. I told you that’s where I was going.”

  A breeze separated the letters and Ready collected them before they could blow into the water. One of the items in the pile was a postcard from Saratoga Springs addressed to Warren Lane.

  “We’re just talking, Gary. What’s wrong with you?” Rebecca listened again for a moment. “No,” she said. “No!” She paused again then said, “Fuck you!” and hung up.

  Ready picked up the card and read it: “Warren, please call. I just want to know you’re OK. Love, Susan.” Her number was written underneath.

  “God, he’s such an ass sometimes,” Rebecca said. She put down the phone and turned to Ready. “What are you looking at?”

  “This card from Susan.”

  “Oh, the mysterious Susan,” said Rebecca. “She sends letters to the house every week addressed to Warren Lane. I was collecting them to send back, but Gary got drunk the other night and opened them. We were having dinner with some friends, and Gary started reading them aloud, like they were funny. It almost made me cry. That poor woman loves that man so much, and he’s dead. Did you know that? He was murdered. I don’t know how she got our address. Imagine being in love with someone and not being able to find them.” These words made Ready think of Ella.

  “Imagine how that must hurt,” Rebecca said. “And he’s dead this whole time, and she doesn’t even know it.”

  “But he’s not dead!” Ready exclaimed. “And neither is she. She can’t be!”

  Startled by the intensity of his emotion, Rebecca asked, “What’s the matter, Mark? Who is she?”

  Without answering, Ready went below deck with the postcard. Rebecca called after him a few times, but he didn’t respond. Finally, she sighed and said, “Call me if you want to talk.” She moved the bag of groceries to the cabin entrance and left.

  Chapter 53

  Below deck, Ready studied the photo of the little town on the front of the postcard and the handwriting on the back. Then he turned on his phone and dialed the number.

  “Hello?” Susan said.

  “Hi, Susan.”

  “Warren? How are you? Where have you been? Are you OK?”

  “I’m OK,” Ready said. “How are you?”

  “Better. Much better than I was a few months ago. Why did you tell me you were Warren Lane?”

  “I wanted to help you.”

  “Well, you did. What’s your real name?”

  “Mark Ready.”

  “Blah! I’m going to call you Warren.”

  “You certainly sound better,” Ready said.

  “I want to see you.”

  “Where are you?” Ready asked.

  “New York State. Saratoga Springs. It’s beautiful here. The leaves are gold and red, and the air is crisp.”

  “What are you doing there?”

  “I had to get out of town after the murder. But I’m coming back next week to meet with my lawyers. Will was involved in some bad business. Actually, Warren, I’ll come sooner if I can see you. All I want to do right now is see you.”

  “I’d like to see you too.”

  “I’ll book a flight,” Susan said. “I’ll call you back within the hour.”

  “OK,” said Ready.

  “I’m so glad to hear your voice. Wait for my call, OK? This is your phone, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you, Warren.”

  “I love you too,” Ready said sadly.

  An hour later Susan called and said she would arrive the following evening. They agreed to meet for breakfast in two days at a restaurant near the marina.

  Chapter 54

  The evening before Ready and Susan were scheduled to meet, Omar walked down the dock carrying a brown paper bag. A cool autumn wind blew beneath the blackening sky, and the boats in the marina rocked gently to the sound of the tiny waves lapping at their hulls.

  Omar found Ready’s boat and descended into the cabin. Ready was
stretched out on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

  “Nice boat,” Omar said.

  “Yeah.” Ready’s voice was emotionless and flat.

  “You don’t mind if I drink in front of you, do you?” Omar asked.

  “No,” said Ready.

  Omar pulled a beer from the bag and said, “What do you drink if you can’t have alcohol?”

  “Juice.”

  “I used to drink that,” Omar said. “When I was four. How you likin’ it?”

  “It’s boring as hell. I never realized how much time there is in a day.”

  “What made you decide to clean up?”

  Ready rolled a little to one side and rubbed his finger along the wall next to the bed, as if checking for dust. “I got sick of hating myself. And I wasn’t ready to die.”

  “So what do you do all day?”

  “Clean the boat. Take walks. Read. Think about Ella.”

  “The blonde you told me about?”

  “Yeah, the blonde.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you find her?” Omar asked.

  “I’ve tried,” Ready said. “I’ve tried everything.”

  “You try calling her?”

  “A thousand times. Her number doesn’t even ring anymore.”

  “And she hasn’t called you?” Omar asked.

  “No. She might think I’m dead. You know, that whole shooting thing. And after I lost my phone, I bought one of those pay-as-you-go phones. It has a different number.”

  “Why didn’t you get a new phone on your existing plan?”

  “Because I’m a dumb-ass,” Ready said with frustration. “And I was drunk for forty-five days and didn’t pay my bill.”

  “Damn. You don’t sound like the kind of man a woman wants to keep around. You sure she’s interested in you?”

  Ready sat up and said with desperation, “She has to be. Or...or what else is there?”

  “Maybe she can look you up,” Omar said.

  Ready shook his head. “I never told her my real name.”

  “You just told her your name was Warren?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All right,” Omar continued, “what about email?”

  “I don’t know her email address.”

  “Facebook?”

  “She doesn’t use it,” Ready said. “And I don’t know her last name.”

  “You don’t know her last name?” Omar asked.

  “No.”

  “Dude, you’re in love with this girl and you don’t even know her last name?”

  “Does that surprise you?” Ready asked.

  Omar remembered their conversations in the sports bar. “Not really. You didn’t even know your own name the first time I asked. How’d you meet her anyway?”

  “She caught me peeping in her window.”

  “You were peeping in her window? What did she do when she caught you?”

  Ready thought back to their first meeting, and some light finally showed in his eyes. “Well, um... she pulled down my pants and fucked me.”

  Omar nodded as he considered the scene. “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I could see why you would like a woman like that. She sounds very...” He searched for the right words. “Outgoing. And generous.”

  “She is,” said Ready.

  “I think you found a kindred spirit there,” Omar said. “It sounds like she just looked at you and said yes, the same way you were always doing. Say yes and see what happens next.” Omar took a sip of his beer. “If two people as open as that cross paths, how can they ever untangle themselves?”

  “I knew who she was as soon as I saw her,” Ready said, “and it terrified me.”

  “Who was she?”

  “The person who was going to make me grow up. The funny thing is, I wasn’t saying yes that day. I kept trying to say no. I wanted to leave, but she wouldn’t let me go. And now all I want is to have her back.”

  The two were silent for a moment.

  “Hey,” said Omar. “Hold your head up, man. She’s out there somewhere.”

  “But where? Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. But if there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do it. Cause I don’t like seein’ you like this. A guy like you wasn’t born to be mopin’ around inside a boat all by himself.”

  “Thanks, Omar.”

  “Hey, you know what?” Omar said. “Your friend Susan’s back in town.”

  “I know.”

  “I ran into her about an hour ago at the Canary.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “Elevator failed inspection. It was an easy fix. Dude, I think that woman loves you.”

  “She does.”

  “She asked me a million questions. She made me give her my number so I can spy on you and tell her what you’re up to.”

  “What will your first report be?”

  “That you’re a sad-ass motherfucker.”

  Shortly after Omar left, Susan called to confirm their meeting. “Can you meet early?” she asked, “I’m still on East Coast time, and for the past week I’ve been really hungry in the mornings.”

  “Sure. I wake up at six these days.”

  “Can we meet at seven?”

  “Seven is fine,” Ready said. “I’ll see you then.”

  Chapter 55

  The next morning, when Ready walked from his boat to the café, Susan was waiting for him just outside the door. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. Her skin was radiant, like Ella’s had been the first time he saw her.

  She looked at him with soft eyes and an open spirit, not the measuring scrutiny he had come to associate with her, and she saw immediately that he was suffering.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Ready shrugged. He sat on the bench outside the cafe and looked down at his feet.

  “I saw your friend Omar at the hotel last night,” Susan said. “He told me you were sad, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

  “What did Omar tell you?”

  “That you’re trying to find work. Or not trying, in his opinion. We swapped phone numbers. He’s worried about you.” Then she added, “I can’t tell you how happy I am that I met you. You don’t know how you changed my life.”

  Ready looked at her but said nothing.

  “Are you OK, Warren?”

  “My name is Mark,” Ready said.

  “I can’t call you that. You’re Warren to me.” She paused a moment, then observed, “You look healthy. Your skin is clear and your eyes are clear, and your face is less puffy than it used to be.”

  “I quit drinking.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. “It wasn’t good for you.” She put her hand on her belly and added, “I don’t know how you put up with all those hangovers. It’s awful to wake up nauseous every morning.”

  She searched his eyes, but she could see he didn’t understand what she was trying to tell him. She sat by his side and said, “Warren, you were kind to me at a time in my life when I desperately needed kindness, and I will always be grateful to you for that. Why are you so sad?”

  She stroked his hair and kissed his cheek, but he wouldn’t look at her.

  “What’s the matter, Warren? Did a woman do this to you?”

  When he finally turned his face to her, she saw a sorrow in his eyes that she knew was beyond her reach.

  “Oh, Warren,” she sighed. “I would do anything to see you happy.”

  Then, with some excitement, she said, “Why don’t we go for a drive? Remember when I was sad, and you dragged me out of that hotel? It was good for me. We can eat later. Come on! What do you say? I’ll drive.”

  Ready said nothing.

  “Remember, all
joy begins with...”

  “All right,” he said reluctantly.

  As they drove up the highway toward Goleta, Susan said, “I was in upstate New York for months. My lawyer hustled me out of town right after the murder. That time away was really peaceful. My aunt gave me a lot of time to myself. I didn’t think I could spend so much time alone without feeling lonely. But it was exactly what I needed.”

  Ready occasionally looked out the window toward the dry Eastern hills, but mostly he looked down at the floor. When she finished speaking he studied her face for a long time.

  “You’re staring at me,” Susan said with a smile. “The way I used to stare at you.”

  “Remember when I came to your hotel room that first time?” Ready asked. “And you said I glowed?”

  “I remember,” Susan said.

  “Now you have the glow,” Ready said.

  Susan pulled the car to the curb and Ready looked up to see the burnt-out shell of Ella’s house.

  “You know what’s funny?” Susan said. “My lawyers say that of all Will’s properties and accounts, this is one of the few I’ll be able to salvage. The rest is going to the government and the lawyers.”

  She pointed to the house. “Will set up a trust that owned this house. He did it because he didn’t want me to find his name attached to it in the public records.”

  Susan turned her eyes from the house to Ready. “He kept a woman here,” she said, “and he didn’t want me to find out about it. But I guess you knew all that. Funny, huh? He bought this place to carry on his affairs, and now it’s one of the only things I’ll have left from him.”

  Ready said nothing. She saw his eyes staring toward the house and his mind far, far away. She remembered his curious comment that first day at the hotel, when she asked him who her husband was sleeping with, and he replied, “She’s a wonderful girl.”

  “Oh, Warren,” she said. “Was it her? Was she the one who broke your heart?”

  Ready looked at her sadly and then looked away.

  “Does she love you too?”

  “I don’t know,” Ready said. “She used to. But I can’t find her. She disappeared the day the house burned down. I don’t even know if she’s alive.”