LOGINTyler’s POV
"Boss, the police called. Your wife might have been involved in an accident."
Smoke rose toward the sky while naked girls danced on poles and rubbed their butts against male bodies to the tune of mid-tempo hip-hop.
The rooftop was the best spot in the city on a Friday night.
I had a girl smooching my lips and rubbing against me; she felt good, and I was already preparing to take her somewhere private to fuck her real good when William, my right-hand man, whispered something in my ear that turned my blood to ice.
"What?"
I shoved the whore’s legs off me and stood up.
"Her car was found in the over the bridge, drowned inside the water. Witnesses said she swerved over the bridge by herself. From the information available, it looks like a suicide, boss."
"And her body?"
For reasons unknown to me, my heart felt as if it were being ripped apart. I felt torn, broken, and damned.
Evans was only collateral to me; I never loved her.
Ever.
So why was this news hitting me harder than the news of my own mother’s death?
"What about her body, William?" I repeated the question, my voice harsh and threatening.
"The police reported that it hasn’t been found yet, boss. I’m sorry."
My face twisted in pain, my jaw clenching until it ached. My eyes felt as though they had been sprayed with red paint.
There was no way Evans would commit suicide; well, there were a million reasons why she would, but… I felt a visceral hurt.
Perhaps, if I had known she had such intentions, I would have treated her better. Like a person. Or a woman.
Soft thoughts that would never cross my mind over Evans’s affairs kept bubbling in my mind. Like I had turned a saint overnight.
I did not know excatlt the fuck that was wrong with my sense of reasoning. Maybe because I had had too much to drink?
"Pack up. We’re heading to the scene."
I did not have a second to spare to think before I suddenly ordered Williams.
I waled out before William could even acknowledge the command. It was already midnight. Searchlights could be seen scanning the water, carefully checking for any sign of Evans’s body.
The thought occurred to me that I should go home, if not anything, to be certain she hadn't tried to run away. I was willing to find her and bring her back to me if she had.
"You stay here," I told William. "Call me if they find anything. I’m going back to the house to check the CCTV footage and see what I can find there."
"Okay, boss," Williams bellowed, nodding slightly.
My tires screeched as I peeled away; I was restless. My eyes were pinned to the road, but my mind was wandering through a maze of thoughts. Maybe she’s with her father? No.
The gate opened automatically as I approached. I didn't even park properly; I practically fell out of the car and barged through the front door, flying into the house.
"Evans?"
The house was as quiet as the night itself. I sprinted up the stairs and glided into our room.
Her cosmetics were still there; most of them, at least. I threw open the wardrobe and found her clothes neatly arranged, just like always.
"She didn't run away after all."
But if she was in that car, where was her body? I swear to God, Evans, if you’re playing with me, I’ll make sure your life is a living hell when I find you.
My thoughts were loud and my emotions were scattered. I sat on the bed with my laptop, pulling up the security footage from the previous day.
I watched Evans run into the living room from outside just to catch my call.
"That's why she was panting over the phone," I muttered.
There was something obvious I was missing, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I fast-forwarded the footage.
It showed her walking back into the living room from the stairs carrying her luggage.
She stared intently at the wall clock; it was 8:00 PM. After standing there for a few seconds, she struggled to drag her suitcase back up the stairs and into the room.
"If she changed her mind about leaving, where was she going before the accident happened?"
My mind was out of control; I was dazed and puzzled. My phone’s ringtone jolted me back to reality. It was William. I hoped he had good news.
"The police have combed the entire area and beyond, and there’s been no trace of a body, boss. Something isn't adding up. They’ve called off the search until tomorrow morning."
The call ended. I sat in the silence of our room, the weight of the mystery pressing down on me.
Something very vague in her hand caught my attention.
I zoomed it.
I figured it was her cell phone, which she placed on her ears and took it out almost immediately.
‘Who might she have called at that time?’
The room fell dead quiet and the cold chills on my body became intense, I felt weak to my bones.
I wanted to be certain if she was dead or alive, maybe it could cure the way I was feeling.
My involuntary and untamed thoughts moved me to call her dad.
It rung but I never got an answer. The second time, he picked up.
‘Where is your daughter? And don’t make me ask again.’
My voice sounded cynically deadly. As if hell was going to break lose if I hadn’t got the answer that I wanted to hear.
‘I-I don’t know Tyler. I haven’t heard from her in months.’
He sounded convincing. However, I wasn’t just going to buy that.
‘This is a good chance for you to give her back if you truly you love her and yourself Terry. I won’t repeat myself’
‘please, I swear, I don’t..’
I ended the call before he could give another protest.
Evans is mine and mine alone, she is not allow to detach, or run away or even die. No.
I didn’t know what I felt exactly. Pride or love. Maybe both.
The laptop became pretty blur to me and I threw it over the bed and laid there with my back, still in cognitive thoughts of where Evans could be.
She had no friends, well except the doctor whom she was very familiar with.
Wait, the doctor? She went to see Nathan this morning.
Before my thinking faculty could process another scenario, I was already dialing his number.
‘Hey Tyler, Is Evans okay? Why you calling in this dead hour?’
‘Did Evans come visit you at the hospital earlier this morning?’
I ignored the series of questions he asked. Unlike a normal non-suspicious fellow, he took a few seconds before he answered.
‘Yes, she came around the hospital. I tested her and sent her home. She complained of headaches and dizziness. It was nothing serious really’
I exhaled deeply and allowed my brain to process the information he gave me before I gave a verbal reply.
‘Okay Nathan, I don’t really believe you, but till I get evidence, you’re a free man.’
I never miss a chance of threatening anybody who I feel is intentionally lying to me. I could smell and taste anything that sounds like a lie to me easily.
I got that from my father. He has been in Greece since I was twenty-five, hiding from his personal enemies.
We ran the business together in Los Angeles before our cover got threatened by our rival, the state authority was never a big threat to us.
Mom was cold to our path; she divorced my dad and later died of cancer. My dad is a full-lived role model to me. I literally glow when I’m around him. He made me who I am.
The only twist was that I never loved him as much as I loved my mom. He was cold, stoic and too rigid.
And, I’ve never loved anyone in my life aside them anyway. Well, until now.
It was hard to admit that I feel something for Evans. She only served as a replacement to my lost goods and more of a pleasure toy in my house that I could discard anytime.
Maybe her demise was just too sudden and unexpected. Maybe that’s why I feel this way.
Bothered and unsatisfied because I wasn’t ready to discard her.
At least, not yet.
Where the fuck are you Evans?
Tyler's POVThe doctor turned his phone on at ten to eight on Wednesday evening, and by five past I was standing in the middle of my study with my coat already on and a glass of water going warm in my hand.Williams rang from California with the news in the flat, unhurried voice he used for everything. He told me that the prepaid phone from the Korean grocer in Astoria had come to life at seven fifty-two, New York time, while Nathan Gregory was walking down the steps of his hospital with his bag over his shoulder, and that it had made exactly one call before it went dark again. The call lasted ninety-one seconds. The number it reached belonged to another prepaid phone, bought for cash in Los Angeles five weeks earlier, and when our people asked the networks to place it, the nearest tower was within two miles of the Meridian hotel."The quiet street," I said."Near enough, boss. It's the same district."I stood very still and let the information settle where it belonged. For five weeks
Tyler's POVWilliams woke me at six on Friday morning with a call from California, which I took in bed with the curtains still shut, and by the time he had finished reading me the letter I was standing at the window with a cold, level anger in my chest that I hadn't felt since the night I was told my wife had driven a car off a bridge."She names Perry Holdings, boss," he said. "Three times, in the first paragraph alone.""Read it again."He read it again in his flat unhurried voice. It was a letter on the stationery of Hale & Whitmore, addressed to the trustees of The Voice Record Label, and it enclosed a document headed *Assignment of Receivable*, by which Perry Holdings had apparently sold a debt of four hundred and twelve thousand dollars to a company called Woods Holdings. Drake Woods's own signature stood at the foot of the page. Veronica's covering note described the transaction as evidence of irregular dealings between the label's founder and what she delicately called a crimi
I made my own toast the next morning, and it was every bit as satisfying as I had hoped. Isaiah's old toaster had a lever that stuck halfway down unless you pushed it with the heel of your hand, and I stood at the counter in my socks, pushing and waiting, watching the little orange coils glow, and feeling a quiet I hadn't known since the bridge. Nobody was looking over my shoulder. Nobody had read my past before I told it to them. There was only a kitchen that smelled of butter and old wood, and a girl making breakfast for herself.Jane came in with her hair in a scarf and sat sideways on the kitchen chair with her knees tucked up, eating dry cereal out of the box and watching me with an expression of enormous restraint. Isaiah sat across from her with the newspaper folded into quarters, and he turned a page slowly every so often without reading any of it."You can ask," I said, eventually."I'm not asking," said Jane, with her mouth full."You are asking with your whole face.""My fa
The first listening party for “Quiet Kitchen” was held on Thursday evening in the Annex, with a hundred and twenty chairs, two long tables of canapés, and a crowd of people I had never met, all of them smiling at me as though they already knew what I sounded like. Stacy had cleared the hall of every camera and every phone in advance, and had stood at the double doors for forty minutes with a clipboard, confiscating devices like a very cheerful customs officer. Nobody was allowed to record anything. It was the only reason I had agreed to wear the dress.It was a black one, simple and long-sleeved, which Jane had chosen after rejecting four others on the grounds that I looked like a bridesmaid in all of them, and I was standing by the long window with a glass of sparkling water when the room began to hum with the particular kind of attention that follows someone through a crowd. I didn't have to turn round to know who it was. I could smell her perfume before she reached me."Eva Lane,"
We reached Marian's gate a little after nine, with the rain still coming down and the windscreen wipers going like a metronome that had lost its patience. The drive had taken two hours and ten minutes, and in all that time Drake had said perhaps twenty words. I had spent most of them with my hand on his knee and Jane's spare cardigan pulled over my ruined red dress, watching the road unspool in the headlights and trying to think of something useful to say. Idris's man was waiting at the end of the lane in a dark sedan, a quiet young fellow named Paulo with a thermos on the dashboard and a face that had clearly been told to expect trouble. He wound down his window as we pulled alongside. "He left at ten past five, sir. Same tan coat, same rental sedan. I followed him as far as the airport and watched him hand back the keys." He glanced at me, then back at Drake. "His boarding pass was for Newark. The nine-forty." "Did he speak to anyone on the way?" "Only the woman at the rental
The meeting about the single lasted two hours, and by the end of it I had a stage name, a release date, and a headache that no amount of peppermint tea was going to touch.It had started easily enough. Smith had put the finished recording of “Quiet Kitchen” into the speakers, and the whole room, which held Drake, a marketing woman named Stacy who turned out to be quicker and louder than I had ever given her credit for, and a very tall man from the distribution company, had listened to all four minutes without moving. When it ended, the tall man took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes and said only, "Well, that's going to cost us a fortune in promotion, because everyone who hears it will want to hear the next one."The trouble began when Stacy asked what name to put on the cover. I had assumed it would be mine, and I opened my mouth to say so, and Drake got there first."Not hers," he said. "Not Evans, and not Claire either. Something new.""She's already registered as Claire Simon,"
"I-it’s my dad… he called to check in."My breath became unsteady and noisy. My eyes were begging God on my behalf, silent because they were too teary and pitiful to speak.Tyler bent over, picked up my phone, and scrolled through it."Evans, do you have something to say to me? Because I think now i
"Say my name!" Tyler’s voice boomed like thunder through the duplex hallway, echoing down the stairs. His large, powerful palm was wrapped around my neck; it felt as though he might twist it until I died if I tried anything stupid. The bed squeaked loudly, and the sound of his groans filled the
It was already 1:00 am. The entire house was hollow with silence; one could hear the tiniest sound in the world.I lay on the couch with my head up and my elbow resting on my forehead. I had been pacing everywhere with my phone, waiting for another call from the police, or perhaps from Evans, or eve
"I’m running away."Jane looked lost.It was as though the world were being created all over again right before her eyes."Let me get you a chilled glass of orange juice so you can cool your head. Then you can explain exactly what you just said, Evans," she said sarcastically.That was typical Jane;







