Eileen Slovak

Chapter Fifty-five: The Moment of Harsh Truth

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and locales are products of the author’s imagination. They are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is coincidental. Copyright © 2024 by Eileen Slovak.

Scott

Saturday afternoon, I’ve been trying to reach Scarlet but her cell phone rings and then goes straight to voicemail. I left a message the first time, but hang up when there’s no answer to my consecutive calls. I drive by her apartment. I don’t see her car in the parking area. Giving up, I go back to my hotel.

      I’m scrolling through the photos on my phone from Trish’s apartment, Sean’s mail, mostly bills, something from BMW. Now I’m cursing myself for not taking the mail. She wouldn’t have noticed. Even if she did, so what? She stole it in the first place. I review the photos of the prescription bottles from Trish’s apartment: Abilify, Lexapro, and Diazepam. Researching them online, what I come up with is treatment for bipolar disorder. None of these should be mixed with alcohol. On her bank statements, I see several airline ticket purchases, both in November and at the end of December. Plus, car rentals for the same periods in Arkansas. I call Alamo pretending to be Trish’s husband inquiring about unknown charges on the account. The representative confirms various details of the rentals, time period, type and color of the vehicle. I say it’s my mistake, that I forgot my wife was traveling for business during that period. Please accept my apologies.

      I hadn’t noticed the flashing light on my hotel phone. Hoping it’s Scarlet, I listen. It isn’t. Maybe she’s getting cold feet, expecting me to leave. The front desk has some overnight envelopes for me. The last pieces of this puzzle. I’m lost in thought when my cell phone starts buzzing away in my pocket.

      “Scarlet, I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Are you alright?”

      “Yes, of course, sorry. My phone was set to vibrate. I’m glad you called. I wasn’t sure if I should expect you tonight, but I’m glad you’re back.”

      “Scarlet, there’s something extremely important I need to talk to you about.”

      “Okay. Is everything alright with you?”

      “I need to see you.”

      “I picked up some food, have you eaten? It’s your favorite.”

      “No, I haven’t even thought about it. Do you want to come here?”

      “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

      I didn’t have time to shower. Looking ragged, I go downstairs to get the envelopes which I’m hoping will prove my new theory. Both excited and anxious at the same time, the case takes an unexpected turn. It won’t bring Sean back, but it will bring some closure. Based on my premise, even if Scarlet was there in December, it no longer matters. I don’t need to even mention the case to her now. Maybe she will never need to know. When she arrives, I hug her.

      “I just got back. I haven’t showered,” I say. “I needed to see you.”

      “Are you okay? You’re acting so funny. Go get cleaned up. The food can wait. I’ll reheat it whenever you’re ready.”

      After a quick shower, I pull jeans and a t-shirt from the duffel bag leftover from my trip. With a jolt, I remember I left the case file sitting open on the desk. I suddenly have the overwhelming sense of falling without a parachute. This visual is still in my mind as I’m standing in the doorway watching Scarlet flip through the file. She’s holding the black and white pictures from the manila envelope marked Scarlet O’Brien. Her face is twisted in an expression of disbelief.

      “Scarlet…I know how bad this looks.” It’s all I can manage while walking slowly toward her like a trainer approaching a wounded tiger.

      “What the hell is this? What…? How did you…where did these come from? Oh my…I trusted you! I should have my head examined!” Her eyes move to the file sitting underneath. Her fury reaches a new level. “You’re investigating Sean’s death? That’s the case you’ve been working on? All this time? You didn’t think to mention that to me? Oh my God! I can’t believe this is happening right now. I can’t breathe.” She bends at the waist putting her hands on her knees. “The funeral. That was you. This hotel is owned by the Campbells. I’m such an idiot.”

      I touch her shoulder, “please, let me explain.”

      “Don’t…touch me!” She whirls on me and throws the file in my face. I stagger backward. Papers and photographs fly out, scattering all over the floor.

      “Scarlet, if you would please listen to me for a minute. I can explain.”

      “Screw you! Screw your explanation! Get the hell out of my way!”

      She pushes me backwards, surprising me with her strength. She throws the door open, then whirls around to face me.

      “I thought you were different. You’re just another snake. This was all a big game to you.”

     “Will you let me say something? Please?” I beg.

      “Anything you have to say, I’ve heard before. Save your lies for the next girl.”

      I watch her run down the hall toward the elevator, her red hair fanning out like flames. I want to chase her, but I don’t have the right. The deception of this job came too easy. I’m the lowest of the low.