Anamnesis: A Novel (24 page)

“Where I stand? I didn’t know there was
anywhere
to
stand.”

I closed the trunk, hiding her father.
“From where I am, there are two options. We take out everyone involved or we
expose all of them. We know three of the people involved. It’s only a matter of
time before we have all of them, and then what? What’s the point of finding all
this out if we aren’t going to do something about it?”

At some point Olivia was going to find out
what my goal was. If there was any time to test the waters and see if she’d
agree with my plan, it was now. It would be helpful if she was on board, but
not necessary.

Olivia clenched her jaw. She rubbed her
temples and took a step away from the car. “It isn’t black and white, and
murdering all of them isn’t the right answer. This is complicated now. My dad
is dead and I’m involved in it. Whether it was an accident or not I was
involved. I could go to prison for manslaughter.”

“It isn’t complicated. Your dad was a
maniac and he’s dead now. I’m sorry, Olivia, but he got what he deserved.” I
walked around her to face her. “I say we move fast. We use your dad’s cell to
trick Hugh into meeting up and we get him. We can interrogate him, maybe get
his dad, too. I still know a few people who could do the deed for us.”

She held my gaze and for a moment, I
thought she was going to agree. “No, Ethan. I don’t want anyone else to get
killed. It isn’t right. They deserve justice, but not like this.”

Dammit. So much for that. She was still
being indecisive. It was clear to me she didn’t truly know what she wanted out
of this, and at this point that wasn’t going to work.

“What do you suggest we do now?”

“We still need to find out who else is
involved and Hugh is our best chance of getting that information. I’ll ask him
if he wants to go out tonight. I’ll say I’m sorry I had to rush out earlier.
He’ll believe me. While I have him, you go to his house and look for the videos
he mentioned back…” she took a deep breath. “Back in that room. He said he had
videos of my dad.”

“That’s dangerous. He could slip you
Whiteout anytime and you know what’ll happen from there.”

“I’ll bring a friend. I’m not stupid,
Ethan. I don’t trust him anymore. I’m not going to get close to him and I
certainly won’t go anywhere strange.” She glared. “I’m not a total idiot,
despite what you might think.”

“Fine.” I had to take her word on it.
“What about your dad?”

She cringed. “Know any good places to dump
a body?”

It was hard not to smirk. “Actually, I
do.”

Hugh Raven’s house
was in north Seattle and was one of the nicest ones on the block. It was a
craftsman style home, something people in the area loved to talk about. I had
an interior designer with an Adderall addiction who carried on about the
craftsman style for fifteen minutes every time I saw her. Apparently she was
famous for renovating and saving houses just like this. The nervous preamble
was as predictable as the sunrise and I indulged her because she was one of my
devoted, frequent clients.

I remembered the last conversation I had
with her. We met behind a Peet’s Coffee downtown after I got the usual text.
Coffee
at the usual spot? See you in ten.
Shirley was there waiting in her silver
Mercedes. She greeted me pleasantly as I slid in.

“I’m working on a beautiful 1970s home in
the American Craftsman style. Gorgeous. Still has the original hand scraped
wide plank flooring. The exterior is in shambles and the previous owners absolutely
destroyed the wood upstairs by covering it with carpet. God, and the bathrooms!
Horrific. They need a total overhaul.”

“Hmm, sounds like a lot of work,” I said.

Shirley continued for a while about the
wood the cabinets were made of, the paint color, the staircase she had to have
rebuilt. She fanned her flushed face with her hand. “Yes, yes. So much work. I
have a tight schedule on it, too. I just need a little something to help me
focus. I have a prescription for Adderall of course, but it expired and I don’t
have time to see my doctor. You know, so busy. Plus doctors are hard to deal
with. You know.”

“Really hard to deal with. Anything I can
do?”

“Oh, just whatever this will get me.” She
slipped me the cash, checked the rear view mirror and side mirrors. Poor,
nervous Shirley.

I counted it, gave her what she had enough
for, and got out of the car. Shirley sped away. I hadn’t heard from her since,
but I imagined she’d need a refill soon.

Now in Hugh Raven’s back yard, I wondered
if this was a house Shirley worked on. The backyard had landscaping of moss,
red beauty bark, and little evergreens that were all perfectly uniform. There
was a pond of koi with benches flanking it. Shirley loved koi. Why the fuck did
I remember that?

Anyway, it was a charming place for a
snake like Hugh to live.

Lucky for me, he also had tall fences to
protect me from the neighbors. I was crouched beneath a small window in the
back yard, praying no one saw me before Olivia let me in.

The plan was simple, but perfect, and so far
we’d managed to execute it without a hitch. Surprising, considering how our
plans had gone in the past. Olivia made the call three blocks from his house.
Hugh answered on the second ring and agreed to meet up for an early dinner.
Just hearing his voice made my blood pressure rise. Olivia told him she was in
the area and would pick him up. He almost didn’t agree to it, but Olivia was
cutely persistent and he caved.

She dropped me off a half block away then
drove to his house. We were now at the riskiest part of the plan. I slipped
into the back yard, waiting for her to let me in through the bathroom window.
If there was any time for Hugh to drug Olivia, it would be then.

My thighs were on fire and my knees felt
tight as I waited. I heard the doorbell ring inside and faint voices. Minutes
later the window above me opened and Olivia stared down.

“Quick, come on!”

I climbed through the window into the tiny
bathroom. It was cramped. Just a toilet and sink.

“I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.
I’ll keep him as long as I can.” Olivia flushed the toilet and turned on the
sink, keeping up the hoax. “Good luck, okay?”

She slipped out of the bathroom, turning
the light off at the same time. I held my breath and prayed Hugh wouldn’t stop
in before they left, too.

Hey, nice to see you again. Great
craftsman house you have here.

In moments I heard the two leaving and the
shrill beeps of an alarm being set from the front door. I waited five minutes
just to be safe before I exited the bathroom.

The house was something out of a magazine.
As I traversed the hallway leading to the bathroom, I came into a living room.
The woodwork gleamed. Colors were masculine but thoughtful. Nothing was out of
place. I wondered if my Adderall renovator worked on the house. There was comfort
in thinking about the familiar in a place like this.

I walked the first story to get a feel for
the layout. It was about what I expected; kitchen, living room, family room,
dining room. I went upstairs, reminding myself there was no one to hear the creaking
wood steps so I didn’t have to cringe at every sound. Upstairs were four rooms
all coming off one open space at the top of the stairs. A master bedroom,
bathroom, guest room, and office. All the doors were open.

I searched the bathroom first to cross it
off my list, then the guest room. I pulled open drawers, slid my fingers around
dressers in case something had been taped underneath. There was nothing between
the mattresses or behind the art. I steered clear of the windows on the off
chance I’d set the alarm off.

The office was next. There was a behemoth
of a wooden desk similar to the one at the law office commanding most of the
room. A heavy clay dish full of loose change, which I pocketed the quarters
from. More bookshelves.

Fuck. More bookshelves. I realized any one
of those books could have a memory card slipped between the pages. It was a
great place to hide something that small. It was as close to a needle in a
haystack as it could get. If all else failed, I’d start checking them, but I
hoped I’d find something before I had to resort to that.

There was a sleek black laptop closed on
the desk. I opened it and powered it on. After a second the log on screen
popped up. Password protected. It was a long shot anyway and I wasn’t about to
start typing in random guesses.

Two of the desk drawers yielded well
organized office supplies. The other, random power cords and cables. It turned
out the last drawer was just right; looking up at me were a digital camera and
a video camera. I snatched them up and turned them on, relieved I’d found
something so quick.

That relief died out as fast as it came.
Both cameras flashed an angry warning that there were no memory cards.

And so the hunt continued. I’d already
been looking for an hour. I didn’t know how long Olivia could keep him for, but
the sooner I was out the better. I hated the idea of her having to play nice
with Hugh knowing what he did.

I left the bookshelf untouched and went to
the bedroom. Throughout the house I noticed the lack of personal photos. He had
art on the walls, but not a single image of himself, or with anyone else. If I
were a sadistic fuck like him, I’d put that kind of stuff up. Better cover.

The master bedroom was slightly bigger
than the guest. Unlike the hardwood in the rest of the house, it had thick tan
carpet. The bed was made and boasted at least a dozen decorative pillows.
Nightstands on either side. I hit those first and tried to keep my hopes at
bay. The more I searched the more intense my anxiety became. I might discover
what I needed at any time, but the chance of finding something seemed slim.

A tablet, reading glasses, condoms. The
other nightstand drawer was empty. I searched between the mattresses and all
around the bed frame, behind dressers. Nothing. I crossed the room to the
walk-in closet and flicked on the light. More organized, overpriced shit. I
rifled through the clothing. Checked coat and pant pockets. Reached inside
shoes. Nothing.

This was ridiculous. I shouldn’t have
agreed to search the house. Not when the option of abducting and interrogating
Hugh was right in front of me. Once again I was caught between wanting to take
the sure route and going along with Olivia.

I rubbed my face and temple. Self-soothing
techniques. Fucking self-help books. What I needed was a cigarette.

Then I saw it. If I hadn’t been staring at
the ground wallowing in my own misery I wouldn’t have spotted it. At the end of
the closet the carpet turned up onto the baseboard. In a house where everything
was immaculate—and true to the craftsman style—why would there be carpet? To
hide something.

I dropped to my knees there and pulled at
the loose edge. Beneath it was hardwood like in the rest of the house. It was
as though the carpet had been tossed over it, not secured in any way. I kept
pulling at the edge until an entire piece of carpet, about a foot square, came
free. The edges were so thick it blended almost perfectly with the rest.

My hands were sweaty. I wiped them on my
jeans as I looked at the hardwood and saw a loose floorboard right in the
center. I retrieved my knife and used the edge to pry up a corner. It came
free. Beneath was a plastic baggie full of memory cards. There were at least
fifty, each labeled with the code names from the log. Beside the bag was
another small video camera and a sealed bag of patches like the one Hugh used
on Olivia. Where were they getting the patches from, when Whiteout in pill form
was on the streets?

I lifted the camera out and turned it on.
Unlike last time, there was a card in this one. I found the gallery button and
hit play on the most recent.

The familiar sight of the torture room
came into view. A girl lay on her back, both wrists hoisted over her head and
chained to one of the rings on the wall. She was blindfolded and gagged, her
body naked and covered in red marks. A man came into the frame and knelt beside
her face, rubbing himself against her. He held a riding crop in one hand.

It was Hugh. I turned the camera off,
sickened by the sight of him and what he was doing. I plucked out the memory
card. Herring was written in neat permanent marker on it.

I picked up the baggie and sorted through
the cards, taking one for Eagle, Captain, and Bolt. I knew Olivia’s father was
Azure, and assumed Eagle was Hugh’s father, but I had to check. If I saw their
faces, it put me closer to knowing their identities for myself. Closer to
getting what I wanted.

Eagle was old. His hair was completely
white, thick tufts of it on his chest trailing down to his groin and legs. He
forced himself on a girl that was probably no older than fifteen. I watched
long enough to get his face into my mind then switched memory cards.

Bolt was a middle-aged man with charcoal
black skin. He had two girls. One was from the streets. I saw it in her ratted
hair, her skin and bones physique. He murdered her in front of the other one.
Strangled her and raped her corpse while the other girl sobbed hysterically.
Every time she tried to look away he ordered her to watch or die.

My chest was tight. I tasted bile in my
throat and felt dirty for watching the videos, even with my intent of having
the men in them killed. There was misery, pain, and unfairness in them like
nothing I’d ever seen before. I took no comfort in knowing the girls wouldn’t
remember what happened to them.

I told myself it was almost over, just one
left, but my body shook and my skin crawled. My eyes burned from what I’d seen
and I knew I’d never forget it. Decades from now I’d still see them in my mind.

Captain was heavyset. That’s all I noticed
before I saw the girl on the bed, blindfolded but not gagged. I saw her auburn
hair, the pale skin, and knew it was Olivia. The tiny speaker on the camera
made her voice sound distant as she begged for mercy, asked over and over why
she was there.

“Are you a good girl? Your daddy says
you’re a good girl.”

“Please don’t do this, please let me go.”

I felt my stomach seize. I dropped the
camera and made it to the toilet in time to wretch until I vomited what little
food I had. It took ten minutes before I could return to the closet and pick up
the camera. Without looking at the screen, I turned it off and pocketed it and
the memory cards.

The alarm was deafening as I walked
straight out the front door and headed down the street. I didn’t care. I had to
get as far away from the house as I could.

Only I couldn’t escape it. It was with me.
It would be with me forever.