Into the Dark

32

Alhambra, California

A few hours earlier and some forty miles south of where Detective Joe Tanner kept vigil at the first crime scene, Amber Pratt was in her kitchen slicing cucumbers for a salad.

She was preparing her dinner, having returned home from a full day at the Huntington Library. Taking in the strong, cool smell of the cucumber, it felt good to get back into her routine. These recent days had been among the hardest she’d ever faced, underscored by the nights she’d been forced to spend in a shelter because of Eric.

Why did he have to make everything so hard?

And if she wasn’t already dealing with enough, Alice from Claire’s office called her at the library that morning to tell her about the break-in.

Take it easy, Amber told herself. The police don’t think it has anything to do with Eric trying to find me. He’s moved to Sacramento. Police think the burglars were going after the gold in the dentist’s office, but said they would drop by later as a precaution. All routine, at least that’s what Alice said. I just hope she’s right.

Amber touched the back of her knife hand to the tear rolling down her cheek, but kept her composure. She had to get on with her life, that’s all there was to it.

The doorbell rang.

She went to the front. Glimpsing the black-and-white Alhambra police car in the street, she opened her door to two uniformed police officers.

“Afternoon-” the older cop with silver hair glanced at his notebook “-Amber Pratt?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Officer Ian Tate. This is my partner, Les Campbell. Our visit pertains to a standing protection order and recent charges against your estranged husband, Eric Larch, that took place at-” he flipped through the pages “-at the Simpkins professional building at Garfield Avenue and Huntington Drive in San Marino.”

“Yes.”

“There was a burglary at that location in San Marino. Because of the recent history of violence at that address with Eric Larch, of which you were the victim, San Marino P.D. requested we check on your welfare and the security of your residence. May we come in and take a look around?”

“Yes, thanks.”

Their utility belts gave soft leathery squeaks, and Amber picked up the pleasant scent of cologne as she showed them into the house. Their muted police radios echoed as they tested the alarm system before going from room to room checking windows and doors.

Their presence made her feel safe. She offered them coffee or soda, but they declined. They had other calls waiting. While Tate, the older officer, went outside to check the property and exterior of the house, Campbell double-checked the security system contacts in the pantry, utility room and finally the kitchen, where Amber was flipping through a magazine for a recipe.

“This is a nice house, and you live alone here?” he said.

“I’m house-sitting for friends of friends. They’ve been so nice, helping me. It’s been a tough time with the divorce, as I’m sure you know. I mean, it’s why you’re here.”

He nodded sympathetically. Despite his nice smile, the young cop seemed shy, excusing himself as he walked around the kitchen island to check the windows.

“What about you?” Amber asked. “Do you live alone?”

“Yes, ma’am, all by my lonesome, unlike my partner. He and his wife have four daughters and a lot of worry.”

“And you? Have you found the right girl, or guy, yet?” She’d attempted a little flirty joke. He looked at her before she realized her mistake. “I’m so sorry, that was rude.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sort of on my own at work, I don’t talk to many people. I’m so embarrassed, forgive me for prying.”

“You’re forgiven.” He chuckled. “And no, I haven’t found the right girl.”

They both glanced up at the sound of a loud radio dispatch as Tate reentered the house from the back door, locking it behind him before coming to the kitchen.

“All right, ma’am, we’re done here,” Tate said. “Your residence is secure and we’ve received word from Sacramento P.D. that earlier this morning they confirmed Eric Larch was in Sacramento at work.”

“That’s reassuring. Thank you for coming.”

Amber escorted them to the front door where both gave her business cards. After dinner, she started cleaning up.

In a small, uncertain corner of her heart, part of her still considered going back to Eric. She unfolded his letter to her and reviewed his tiny, neat handwriting-the I’m sorry’s, his shame, his remorse, his effort to get counseling, his begging her to recall the tender times, their dreams, and his asking her to come back to him so they could start a new life together.

Think this through, she told herself.

She let the letter drop to the desktop and cupped her hands to her face.

When I think of why I married him, I’m so tempted to go back. We had beautiful dreams of our life together. Part of me still loves him and always will love him.

But Claire’s right.

I have to remember why I left. I see that evil look on his face each time he hurts me. I saw it when he attacked me in the lot. Then he went after Claire. He’ll never break out of his cycle.

Protection orders, attacks in public and police checks-it was no way to live. Was this a foundation for her future? The man she’d loved was gone and she had to move on.

She checked the time.

It was late. She had to be up early for work. She drew a hot bath to ease her tension and help her sleep and as she soaked in the tub, she seized on a warm, fleeting thought of Officer Campbell.

The spark of attraction was surprising.

Amber climbed out of the tub, drained it, toweled off and brushed her teeth. As she blow-dried her hair she smiled at the fact that she, Amber Pratt, had flirted.

Maybe I am coming out of my shell. Gaining some self-confidence? Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

In her bedroom, Amber pulled on her nightshirt and started running a comb through her hair when she froze.

A soft thud-thump somewhere in the house.

What the heck is that? She went room to room, throwing on every light, checking every window, every door, every closet. Nothing was out of place, yet her instincts told her something was not right.

Unease pinged in her stomach. What if Eric did break into Claire’s office and got this address? Remember what Officer Tate said. Sacramento police confirmed that Eric was in Sacramento at work.

But that was early this morning, which left him time to fly, even drive, to L.A.

This was just stupid. Amber couldn’t stand it. She grabbed her cell phone and called Sharon. After three rings, the line was answered.

“Hello?” Sharon’s husband answered.

“Kyle, it’s Amber, could I speak to Sharon.”

“Amber- Geez, yeah, hang on.” It sounded as if he had a hand over the mouthpiece, but a muffled “It’s Amber-how should I know what she-” leaked out before Sharon got on the line.

“Amber, honey, it’s Sharon. What’s going on?”

“I need you to help me.”

“Of course, what do you need?”

“Is Eric in Sacramento right now?”

“What? Yes, he’s working with Pete on some new places in Citrus Heights, I think. Kyle, Eric’s working in Citrus? Yes, Citrus Heights. Why?”

“Is he still in Sacramento tonight?”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“You know what’s going on. You know everything that’s going on in everybody’s life.”

There was a long pause.

“I thought you were on my side, Sharon.”

“Amber, he really thought the letter would work to bring you back. I’m in the middle. I pray for both of you.”

“Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know exactly, but we heard that there was some sort of burglary in L.A. and the Sacramento police paid him a visit on the job site this morning, which really ticked him off.”

“So where is he now?”

“I don’t know. I guess he was so pissed that he told Pete that he wanted to take a long drive to take care of something.”

Amber’s hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went around the house.

“I’m calling the police.”

“Wait!” Sharon’s hand covered the phone, then she came back on. “Kyle said he stayed on the job and Pete and Marty took him to a bar after work to cool him off.”

“Call Pete now. Get him on the phone. I need to know Eric’s in Sacramento, or I’m calling the police. I know Kyle has Pete’s cell number.”

“All right, stay on the line I’ll get Kyle to call them now. Then we’ll put the phones on Speaker and turn them up.”

After a few harried moments Amber heard Eric’s brother, Pete, always the calm, smart, mature one of the two.

“Pete, it’s Amber. Are you with Eric?”

“Yes, we’re watching the game at the Nugget, he’s right beside me.”

“Put him on.”

“Amber?” Eric said. “What is it? Sharon said you got my letter.”

Satisfied she’d heard Eric, she said, “Everything’s fine. Give the phone back to Pete.”

“What? What about my letter, did you think-”

“Eric, put Pete back on, please.”

“What is this? Why are you being such a-” Eric stopped himself.

“Such a what, Eric? What were you going to call me?”

A tense moment passed.

“Here’s Pete,” he said. “I don’t know what she wants,” Eric told his brother before Pete came back on. “What’s going on, Amber?”

“Pete, I want you to pass your phone to the first female server you see. Just for one second.”

“What?”

“Please.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just do it, please.”

More muffled sounds.

“Hi,” a young cheery voice greeted, “this is Dixie.”

“Dixie, what city are you in?”

“What? Is this some kind of contest? Are there cameras?”

“Please just answer.”

“Sacramento.”

“Thanks, you can give the phone back.”

“Amber?” Pete came back on.

“Thank you, Pete, goodbye.”

Sharon was on the line again.

“Amber, this is really unfair for you to put the Sacramento police onto Eric when he’s trying to straighten his life out. He had nothing to do-”

“Thank you, Sharon, goodbye.”

Amber hung up, trembling from the anger and fear pumping through her body. She sighed and put her head in her hands until it subsided.

I must be losing my mind.

Taking long, deep calming breaths she walked through the house again, checking doors, windows, closets, shutting off lights, trying to relax. She went to the kitchen and made cocoa. As she waited for the milk to warm she pondered Officer Campbell’s card and smiled.

Everything’s okay, I’m just on edge, she thought, heading to bed where she read the opening of Madame Bovary before her stress yielded to exhaustion and she gently drifted off.

Amber fell into a deep sleep that swirled with dreams of a pretty little home overlooking the ocean where her children played under a brilliant sun in the yard. She was smiling, calling them, lowering herself so they could run into her open arms, but they stopped short and looked up at something behind Amber.

A large shadow fell over them.

Amber’s eyes flicked open. The sun gave way to darkness and the naked man standing beside her bed, staring down at her, his face a white, hideous mask of malevolence.

Amber’s scream was silenced when he crushed a wide strip of duct tape over her mouth. A sudden blow to her head rattled her teeth in a pyrotechnic explosion of stars before everything went black.