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Authors: Eloise J. Knapp

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“I never said we weren’t going. I’ll bring
my gun. As long as we don’t hassle anyone and make ourselves look small, we’ll
be okay.”

“You have a gun?”

I diverted my attention from the mold
pattern on the wall directly across from me to give her an amused look.

“What? Does it really surprise you?”

She paused before laughing. “No. I guess
it doesn’t.”

“So back to D.P. We go to the building,
rummage around and see what we can find. The building has been condemned for
some time, so don’t get your hopes up,” I said. “People tend to burn,
vandalize, or destroy the stuff in those places.”

“Okay. We—”

Olivia’s phone rang. Instead of a hip
song, it was a regular beeping noise. She seemed so young to me—even though she
was likely my own age—that I expected things like that from her. Every time I
was proved wrong, I felt a tiny flush of embarrassment. I was good at knowing
people. Their weaknesses, their type. I had some of Olivia pegged, but there
was another part I’d only skimmed the surface of.

“I’ve gotta take this, Ethan. Hold on.”
She swiped the phone and stood, walking ten feet into the kitchen. Her voice
was hushed, but there was nowhere in the studio apartment that offered privacy.

The conversation was urgent. Olivia kept
asking questions like who? Where? How? In the space of the five minute call,
she must’ve asked ‘are you gonna be okay’ ten times. She hung up and returned
to the table, but something had changed.

“That was my friend Kaylee’s mother.
Kaylee had a nervous breakdown a few days ago while shopping. I wondered why I
hadn’t heard from her recently.”

I shifted in my easy chair, letting my
body sink further into its soft embrace. The moment Olivia left, I planned to polish
off the bottle I brought and doze until morning. “That sucks. What time are you
picking me up to check out D.P. then?”

Her lips pressed tightly together. “I
think someone is using Whiteout on Kaylee.”

Damn. Never a dull moment. I’d need a
vacation once this was over. “How long have you thought that? Why are you
telling me now?”

“She’s confided in me about losing bouts
of time over the past two month. But it happens a lot. At least once a week.
Kaylee has some drinking issues and likes to party, so I credited it to that. I
didn’t make a connection until now. Her mother said she was getting supplies at
Staples for work when she smelled something and then just lost it. She said Kaylee
became hysterical, then passed out. She was at the hospital two days ago. They
haven’t heard from her since she got home and called them to tell them what
happened.”

It
was
suspicious. “You think she
might’ve remembered something? Or was coming off the drug?”

“Maybe something like that. Her mother wants
me to go check on her. They’re in Hawaii right now.”

My evening plans came to an end before
they even began. If Olivia’s friend really had been suffering from a
Whiteout-induced breakdown, she could be violent. She might hurt Olivia or
herself. I took a deep breath and heaved myself out of the chair, scanning the apartment
for my shoes and jacket.

“Ethan, you don’t need to come. I’m just
going to swing by her house. I’ll see how she is and call you.”

I found my jacket slung over the edge of
the bed. I pulled the thing on before starting the search for my shoes. “There
was a street kid who panicked after coming off it and accidentally killed someone.
If she’s been drugged as many times as you suspect, she could be dangerous.”

Still, Olivia wasn’t convinced. She had
the tips of her fingers against her temple, her stare vacant in front of her.
It seemed like she was running through the options. The sooner she realized
there weren’t any, the better.

“She can’t see me with you,” Olivia
finally said. “Let me go inside and you can wait just outside the door. I have
a key. If you hear anything odd you can come in, okay?”

That was as close as I was going to get.
“Deal. Come on, let’s go.”

Olivia grabbed her purse and headed out of
the apartment. As I turned to lock the door, I stopped. “I forgot a lighter.”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll go get
the car. Meet me out front.”

I waited until she’d cleared the stairs by
the elevator before I got my gun. I always carried a pocket knife, but we had
no idea what we were facing. I wasn’t going to get caught without some
firepower.

 

Chapter 13

 

The condo was in a nice part of Queen
Anne. Unlike most places, it looked as good in full daylight as it did in the
pretty dying sunlight. Orange faded into dark purple and blue above as the sun
set. Streetlights were just flickering on as we drove in the Immaculate Car to
Kaylee’s. Traffic from a Sounders game reached in every direction from Seattle
proper.

Using her voice command, Olivia kept
telling the car to call Kaylee. It went to voice mail four times before she
gave up.

I hated the feeling of urgency welling up
inside of me, only to be mocked by the sluggish traffic. I tried to occupy
myself by studying the myriad of gadgets and touch screens Olivia’s car had to
offer. I watched the alleged gas mileage estimate. Eventually that tired me. I
stared at the faded denim on the tops of my thighs, the tear in the right knee
of my jeans. My fingernails were dirty, the tips tobacco stained. In the
Immaculate Car, I was aware of how I smelled and the semi-permanent scent I’d
leave behind. Despite that, I still wanted a cigarette but knew there was no
way Olivia would let that fly. Just like I doubted she’d approve of me bringing
my gun.

The Glock resting in its holster on my
side made me self-conscious. I never got used to it. Did she notice it right
away when I slipped into the car? Would I need to use it?

Not that I was shy about using it. I had a
few times before. While I wasn’t sure if the men I shot died from their wounds,
I’d fired knowing they might. Whether my own life was at risk or because I had
no choice, I knew I could open fire when I needed to. I hoped I wouldn’t have
to around Olivia; if she got caught in the crossfire, I’d blame myself.

The thought hit me hard. My concern for
Olivia’s wellbeing crept up on me. She was the first person I’d met who had
been drugged with Whiteout. I couldn’t count Stromberg or the woman Skid
brought me. I didn’t know them. Olivia was the only one who knew even slightly
what it was like to be me. On some level, she was interested in my wellbeing.
She’d confided in me and depended on me. Yeah, she was high handed and got on
my nerves. Who didn’t?

“Earth to Ethan, we’re here.”

She parked the car in front of a modest
condo. There was a small patch of grass for the yard, perfectly manicured. Big
terracotta pots boasted Asiatic looking plants. I looked up and down the
street; the whole block was made up of buildings just like it. Slightly
different colors and trim, but the same.

Behind large double paned windows was
blackness. There was a white Jetta in the driveway. A knot began to form inside
my gut. There was something wrong. That primitive, superstitious part of me
growled at the building. “I’m going in with you.”

My voice sounded loud in the car. I turned
to face Olivia, whose gaze was fixed on the condo. Her face was bathed in the
soft white glow of the touch pads and gauges on her dashboard. She said
nothing, but nodded then exited the car.

As we walked, Olivia searched her purse
for the key. She took her time and I wondered if she was more frightened than I
thought. Even as we stood on the doorstep—tall frosted windows making the
inside a foreboding mass—she moved slowly.

“Should I ring first?”

“If you want to,” I answered.

She pressed the buzzer. I heard it playing
inside, a muted jingle. I thought I heard shuffling, but it lasted only a
second. No lights turned on. Olivia hit the buzzer again and waited. As her
hand went up a third time, I stopped her. Her breath was ragged. She moved to
unlock the door.

“There’s an alarm system. I need to disarm
it before you come in.” She paused. Anxiety flashed in her eyes. “Assuming it’s
even on.”

It was. The second Olivia unlocked and
opened the door, it omitted even beeps as it waited for the code to be entered.
It was loud and conspicuous, doing nothing to dispel the sense of unease that
kept building inside me. Olivia’s fingers flew across the console just inside
the doorway. When the beeping stopped, it was still pounding in my ears.

Olivia was quick to turn on the light to
the entryway, revealing hardwood floors that looked almost scrubbed white, and
medium gray walls. The condo was surprisingly modern. To our right was a flight
of steps with a metal railing leading upwards. What I guessed was a coat closet
across from the front door. The living room, kitchen, and dining room were one
space joined by large arched doorways. I followed Olivia as she systematically
walked through the first story flicking on each lamp and light switch
available.

“Kaylee?” Her voice cracked. She coughed
and said again, louder, “Kaylee, are you home?”

No response. She tried a third time.

The only sign of human interference was in
the kitchen. Two mugs of tea on the counter. I pressed the back of my hand on
one of the mugs. It was cold. An opened package of Fig Newton cookies sat beside
it. There were two barstools pushed away from the counter. Someone other than
Kaylee had been here.

Since the alarm was on, and the door
locked, they probably still were.

“Does she have a roommate?” I asked.

Olivia shook her head. “Not that I know of.
She never mentio—Ethan, what’s wrong?”

If my nerves were buzzing before, they
were on overdrive now. When I turned to face the living room, from where I
stood, I noticed the front door was open. We shut it. I knew we did.

I withdrew the Glock and chambered a round.
Olivia stared at me, her mouth agape. I moved around her to check the front
door. The door across from it was indeed a coat closet and it was open, too.
The jackets were pushed to one side.

Fuck. Someone had been hiding.

I lowered the Glock to my side and ran
outside, scanning the street for movement. Nothing. Not a single person in
sight. I couldn’t tell if a car had left since we came in, although I figured I
would’ve heard someone peel out.

“Ethan?” Olivia stood in the doorway, her
arms wrapped around herself.

“Check up the street,” I told her. “Don’t
go far.”

If anyone saw me with the gun out, they’d
call the cops. I shoved the gun in my waistband and jogged down the street
opposite of Olivia. For a moment I considered telling her to stay put, but we
needed to cover ground and there was no reason why she couldn’t help. Whoever
had been in the house, they couldn’t have made it far.

I checked behind cars and looked down the
narrow space between condos. After a block, I called Olivia’s cell. She picked up
on the first ring.

“See anyone?”

“No.” She sounded flustered. “I’m going
back to Kaylee’s.”

“Okay. Meet you there.”

I walked back to the house, eyes still
open for anyone suspicious. It was strange being the one looking for someone
out of place. Normally I was the one trying to blend in.

Olivia stood on the steps to Kaylee’s. She
hadn’t gone far from the condo. Now
there
was a suspicious character.
Olivia’s head snapped back and forth as she watched the street. Her right foot
tapped on the ground and she couldn’t find anywhere to put her hands.

“Get in. You look like a criminal,” I
said.

She didn’t move. “Should we…Are you sure
we should go back in?”

The condo was less ominous now that the
lights were on in the first story. I had my gun. And I was a hell of a lot more
interested in checking out the place. “People don’t bolt like that for nothing.
Come on.”

She stepped aside and gestured for me to
lead the way.

Upstairs was the only place unsearched. I
closed and locked the front door behind me and pulled out the Glock. I went to
the staircase and began my ascent. The railing shuddered with every step I
took. Then, halfway up, I smelled it. You only needed to smell a dead body once
and it was cataloged in your memory forever. It was earthy, putrid, and metallic
all in one.

My grip tightened as I reached the top.
The light from downstairs stretched to the top hallway which extended right
into a bathroom, and left where there were two shut doors. I scanned the walls
and spotted a light switch directly across from me. My hand snapped out and I
turned it on.

The first thing I noticed was the smudges
of blood on the light wood floor. They came towards me and stopped at a rug
where someone must’ve wiped their feet before continuing.

While Olivia stood back, I searched the
bathroom. No killers hiding behind shower curtains. I opened the next door and
found an office. Also empty.

That left what must be a bedroom. The
smell was stronger as I neared. I prepared myself for whoever—whatever—was
behind the closed door.

There could’ve been a man waiting with an
Uzi somewhere in the room, and I wouldn’t have noticed. The first thing I saw
was the woman’s body on the bed, lit by the blue light of a TV mounted in the
upper corner of the room.

She was naked, her left cheek pressed
against the mattress. Her arms were yanked up at an awkward angle with each wrist
tied to a bedpost. The bindings were so tight they’d drawn blood which dripped
down her arms. Every inch of her body was covered in words scrawled in marker.

Bitch. Slut. Tease.

Blood had poured from dozens of stab
wounds from her shoulders down her legs, obscuring some of the writing. Her
legs gaped open, everything between gored in a mess of slashes and stabs. The
bedding had been stripped from the mattress, which was now soaked in blood
around her body.

Some of the blood was brown and matte
compared to the red closest to her, still wet and dark. Whatever happened to
her, it took a while. Long enough for blood to dry.

I tore my gaze away, sickened, to finally
check the room. Not that there was anyone there; they would’ve attacked me the
moment I walked in. At the same time I chose to look away, Olivia came up
behind me. I heard her gagging as she dashed into the bathroom and vomited.

It took everything I had not to do the same.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The question was
stupid and I realized that even as I asked. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond. I clenched my fists
and took a deep breath, opened my eyes.

Next to the TV was a video camera on a
tripod, a cord connecting the two together. I walked past it into the master
bathroom where there was red smeared on the sink and counter. It looked as
though someone had washed up. The blood was fresh. Had we interrupted our
runner when we rang the doorbell? Obviously they hadn’t expected company. They
would’ve snuck downstairs and waited for the right moment to bolt.

When I turned to go back into the bed
room, I had a perfect view of Kaylee’s face. The left side pressed into the
mattress was blue and swollen. Then it hit me. I’d seen her before.

 “Ethan?” Her voice was shaking. “I’m
going to call 911.”

I dashed from the bathroom, holstering my
gun as I went. “No, Olivia. If they find me here, I’m going to jail. They have
my prints from other crimes. I’m a known associate of Donovan’s family.”

Tears streamed down her ruddy face. Her
lips were wet with saliva, her gaze was locked onto the massacred body of
Kaylee. “I can’t
not
call the police,” she wailed. “Look at her! For
God’s sake, look at her! I can’t do this. I can’t—”

I walked in front of her, blocking her
view of the body. “You don’t have to do anything. Give me ten minutes to look
around. I’ll leave, you call the police.”

“No! Whoever did this was just
here
.
If we call the police now, they can canvas the streets.”

“Olivia, they’re long gone. Please. Please
let me look around.”

After a moment, she blinked slowly and
nodded.

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen Kaylee before.”


What?
” Olivia’s eyes focused on
the room behind me. “When?”

Kaylee was the girl in the pink dress, the
one who wanted the roofie. I explained what happened with as much detail as I
could remember. “I don’t remember what the guys who took her away looked like.
It was dark and I split as soon as she freaked.”

“Why didn’t you call the police? That’s
abduction.”

“Olivia, you know why I didn’t. It’s the
same fucking reason I’m telling you not to call them now. Also, it wasn’t my
problem.”

“Yeah? It is now.” Without another word she
left the room. I heard her going down the stairs, then quiet.

I could’ve handled that better, but Olivia
stonewalling me wasn’t productive either. My back to the scene, I let my mind
race. When I met Kaylee, she came off Whiteout and flipped. The men dragged her
away. Two days later she had another breakdown—which, I bet my life, was Whiteout
related—and some point after that was murdered.

It was a silencing. The Melnikov family
did it all the time; when someone put the family at risk, they were put down.

I had to deal with the task at hand and
refocused. I tried to remember what I’d touched outside of the room. I found
disinfectant wipes in the bathroom and systematically cleaned every surface and
door knob I might’ve touched.

BOOK: Anamnesis: A Novel
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