Page 47 of The Vacancy In Room 10

“I don’t understand.”

“Sinatra! They’re for you, okay? It’s a gift. Let me help you carry all this in,” I say, picking up one end.

I see his eyes become glossy, and he hugs me around the waist as hard as he can. I don’t hug him back because I can’t get too invested in this kid. I just can’t.

“Okay, all right. Let’s move her in,” I say, and he lets go of me and picks up the other end.

He’s chattering to Mary about his tools before we even put the box down, and he beams from ear to ear. He asks me if I’m sure, and if I’m really, really sure three more times and hugs me twice more before I get back out the door to leave. As I walk down the stone path back to my apartment I remind myself not to get attached, and more important, not to let this kid need me because I’ll likely be either dead or in prison very soon, if I’m honest. But which one?

I see Callum sitting at the small bistro table in front of his door with bare feet and a cup of iced coffee. He watches me, and we both know he’s fuming, and we also know we need to act normal. No call, no texts. Yeah, that worked out well. He’s been so great at following the plan so far, so will he keep his cool now? Do I need to remind him that I’m not accustomed to planning the dumping of a dead body, so excuse me if I am not handling it the right way!

“Coffee?” he says, tilting his head just slightly in either direction to make sure nobody is close enough to hear. He doesn’t wait for a reply, just hands me a mug so we look casual standing there. I certainly can’t be seen inside his apartment. That would be a scandal. The pool girls have nothing better to do than create scenarios, especially if it includes the guys in The Sycamores they consider fantasy-worthy.

“What happened?” he asks, but I know everyone already filled him in. They can’t help themselves.

“I didn’t plan for that to happen, okay? I’m sorry. Let’s just... What time?”

“I don’t know. We don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“Six then. Just come to the back door, and we can figure it out. I have a bunch of paper maps in one of the drawers. We can find a route. Just leave your phone in your apartment, you know, for tracking.”

“Right,” he says. “Okay.”

“God, shit!” I say suddenly, a flash of panic making me lightheaded. I take a deep breath. I can’t believe what I’m saying.

“I know,” he says. “You should go.”

“Yeah.” I give him the mug and try to force a smile as I walk away, in case anyone is looking at us.

I get to the office early and open all the windows to air out the smell of cleaner and to make it look normal again so none of the residents start to think something is off. It’s almost a godsend that I did lose my mind and get arrested because everyone in the complex has probably already heard about it, so any odd behavior will be chalked up to heartache. I haven’t let myself think about Reid or Kimmy since sobering up, and I am doing my best to keep it that way.

I turn off the AC and listen to the buzz of cicadas and relish the warm breeze coming through the screens and making the long curtains dance, even if it is too hot. I sit at the desk and start to open paper maps of New Mexico to get a head start on presenting Callum with a direction to go. We said east, but maybe we can settle on distance.

I think to dig out a couple of flashlights from one of the plastic storage bins, and as I stand to go and find them, I see a figure appear on the other side of the front screen door, and I’m instantly furious that Callum is coming in the front. People can’t see him come in and not leave for hours. You never really know who’s paying attention around here.

“What the hell are you doing?” I say. The screen door opens, and then I hear something that makes my heart stop.

“I’m not here to answer questions from you. I can’t even believe they let you out of jail after what you did,” Reid says.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I say, completely stunned to see him—his clenched jaw and hazel eyes, the clean-shaven familiar face I know better than any other against the backdrop of this shithole apartment office. It doesn’t go together. I’m humiliated and angry that he’s here, seeing me like this.

“You stole shit from the house. What is actually wrong with you? Everyone thinks you’ve lost it, you know?”

“I’m sure they do. What do you want? What else could you possibly even take from me? You’re seriously showing up here...for what? You already had me arrested. That’s not enough?” I fold my arms across my chest and keep him stuck in the doorway so he doesn’t come in any farther.

“The neighbor’s Ring camera saw you put my tools in your trunk. You know how expensive those are? I don’t want to have to call the police again to make a second report about this, okay? But I need them back,” he says, and I can see past his shoulder and outside where a rectangle of blue light illuminates Kimmy’s face as she looks at her phone in the passenger’s seat of the Range Rover I picked out with him.

“What in the hell would you need with those tools? All of a sudden after years of not touching them, you need them.”

“Listen, I don’t owe you an explanation. They’re mine. That’s all, that’s it. Let’s not make this ugly,” he says, trying to move into the room, but I hold my ground.

“What, you got baby furniture to put together? Cribs and stroller—” I start to say sarcastically, but the look on his face makes me realize that’s exactly what he wants them for. “Oh, my God,” I say in a whisper.

“I saw your car behind the building when we came in, and I still have a key, so I’m getting my tools out of the trunk. I was trying to do the right thing by telling you first even though I should have listened to Kimmy and just taken them,” he says, and I’m frozen.

I don’t know what to say to stop him from opening that trunk. My mouth doesn’t open, I just feel my heart thump and pinpricks of heat tap across my chest.

Callum materializes from the back and practically falls over he stops so hard when he sees a strange man in the office with me. “What’s...going on?” he asks.

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