Charade

Vic

"Vic, wake up."

Benjamin was shaking me awake, hands gripped on my shoulders. My eyes opened into slivers. We were back inside Artie's cabin, all oak and yellow light, and Benjamin was looking down on me. How long had I been sleeping on Artie's sunken couch? How had I even gotten there?

"Vic," Benjamin said. "I know who Dana is."

The memories came floating back. The car park, the cashier boy, the text message. I rubbed my eyes.

"Oh god," I said. "I really lost my mind this time, didn't I?"

Benjamin pressed his lips together.

"Yeah, you did."

I sat up on the couch and cracked my achy bones.

"So who is Dana?" I asked, wanting to forget.

"Dana Moore. She died about five weeks ago. The cops were investigating, trying to rule out foul play."

"Did they?"

"Yeah, it was suicide. But the news said that she killed herself because of financial stress after a series of ATM scams done by a seventeen-year-old delinquent."

"You," I said.

"Me," he agreed.

"So we cleared out her account and she was so upset she committed suicide?" I asked.

"I know it's a long shot, but someone sick in the head could directly blame us for Dana's suicide."

"That doesn't explain how they knew about me. You were on the news, but nobody knew that I'd committed the crime as well."

"Well, somebody did."

I frowned.

"Wait, what was the girl's name?"

"Dana Moore."

"Dana Moore," I echoed.

The name Moore danced to a familiar beat. I thought back to the visit with my father. He'd described the man as grey-haired, blue-eyed, with crow's feet. Then there was the accent,  Irish, and the way everybody thought he was familiar but couldn't quite place him. I sucked in a gasp.

"I know who he is, and it's definitely not Eddie." I said.

Something started ring. Benjamin and I both looked over. It was Artie's laptop, open on the kitchen table. Skype was open. Benjamin looked to me. I gave the okay to answer it. We both approached the kitchen table nervously. With unsure eyes, Benjamin slowly reached forward and pressed the green telephone.

Lily appeared onscreen. She was strapped to a chair in the middle of a white room. Her head hung low and blood covered her arms and trickled down her legs. I sucked in a breath.

"Lily?" I whispered. "Lily!"

Somebody laughed from behind the camera. I clenched my jaw shut.

"I know it's you," I said, my voice low and hateful. "Come out where I can see you."

"Now, now," he said, accent suffocating every syllable. "Don't get your panties all up in a twist."

Slow, menacing steps echoed on hard concrete as he stepped into view. I gulped. I was right. Lily's step-dad and my old boss, James Darby, smiled and waved into the camera, twirling his fingers with that sick, evil grin. Benjamin squinted, then looked at me.

"You're Lily's step-dad," he said.

"Dana Moore was your daughter," I whispered. "No wonder everyone thought you were familiar."

I remembered back to the days when I was married to Anna and working for James. Her name was Dana Darby back then, before she was married. She'd had some mental health problem – bipolar, I think – and she used to come into work with James so he could keep an eye on her. I remembered her thick brown hair, black rimmed glasses, and her slightly yellowed teeth. I remembered the way James looked at her... it was the same way I looked at Lily – unconditional love.

"That's right," he said. "And you – you took her away from me."

"It was her decision to leave you, James. Not ours. Look, I know what it feels like. I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy."

"Bullshit!" He yelled. "I married your ex-wife, took care of your child, moved in on your life, and you couldn't handle it, so you thought you'd get back at me by killing the only person I ever truly loved."

"We didn't kill her, James." Benjamin spat. "She killed herself."

"And you!" He yelled. "You helped him! That makes you just as responsible!"

"She was sick, James." I told him. "She had bipolar. That means that she would've gone into that head space even if we hadn't done the ATM scams."

"You pushed her over the edge!"

"Look at what you're doing!" I screamed. "Just, look, for one minute. You see that girl right there, the one you have tied up. She's my daughter, sure, but isn't she yours as well? You've been the one to take care of her when I couldn't, when she was at her mother's and I couldn't get to her. You fed her and made sure she had somewhere warm to sleep. If you hurt her, you'll be hurting your kid, too."

James fell silent. He looked me in the eye, head cocked, and he took two steps towards the camera. A small, twisted smile spread across his face, and he laughed.

"How stupid do you think I am?" He asked, mocking me.

I gulped.

"I care about my car more than I care about this spoilt little shit. So this is what's going to happen. I will happily give you your darling daughter back in one piece in exchange for one thing."

I bit my lip.

"Anything," I said. "I'll give you anything."

James' smile curled even higher.

"Are you sure? You haven't heard what I want yet."

"Just tell me!" I yelled.

"I want Benjamin's lifeless corpse delivered to me at the water tanks outside Port Augusta, and I want you to shoot him dead right in front of me. You give me his dead body, and I'll give you Lily's live one."

"What about Ashley?" Benjamin interrupted. "If he shoots me, you'll let her go, too?"

"Oh, Benji," James chuckled. "You haven't heard? Your sweet sister is already dead and gone."

Benjamin took a step back, face sinking and heart breaking. Then he clenched his fists.

"You're lying," he said. "You just want to get inside my head."

"Watch the news, laddie. She'll be on there soon enough."

"When?" I asked. "When do you want to meet?"

"Sunrise," James said. "Come to the water tanks, and come alone or everyone dies."

The Skype call ended.

© A.G. Travers 2015