Chapter 19

Ted

I wanted to go to this insane rendezvous alone. I thought that way would be safest—for Camille, for me.

For Karl.

But Karl wouldn’t hear of it. “Are you crazy?” He stared out of his living room windows, at the leaden skies, the sleet coming down. The only light in our world right now was man-made, or the occasional flash of lightning. “That’s what he wants—to get you alone. No, Ted, I’m coming with you.”

I hated to jeopardize him too in this seemingly high-stakes game.

But, at the same time, I warmed to him even more, this protective aspect of him.

I don’t know when I’d last experienced someone caring about me so much.

This was not the time for romance or dreams of love, but I thought the time could come.

Perhaps it was only waiting in the wings.

I went to him and took him in my arms. The full-length press of our bodies was electric, undeniable despite the dire circumstances.

We didn’t say anything, simply held each other.

Our hearts did the talking and our hearts were saying that together, we could face this challenge.

We didn’t kid ourselves, our intuition wasn’t some starry-eyed dreamer.

Yes, we could face the challenge, face it better together, but overcoming it would be another matter.

I glanced down at my watch. “We need to go. There could be traffic. And we can’t afford to be even a minute late.”

I followed him out.

*

The temperature, with the rain, sleet, and snow flurries, must have dropped twenty degrees from where it was when we woke in the morning. Late in fall, the day had all the earmarks of winter—icy roads, leaden skies, the off-and-on flurries.

The area around the tunnel, and Lincoln Park itself, was all but deserted on this late afternoon, which was most likely what Josh wanted.

It seemed a mark of our relationship that, even in the best of times, he wanted to get me all alone, to have me all to himself.

He carried possessiveness to a ridiculous—and probably lethal—extreme.

We’d parked in a nearby lot and walked over.

I told Karl that he needed to stay behind me.

“Put a good amount of distance between us, too. I’m sorry, but I think if he sees you, he’ll get spooked.

And God only knows what would happen to Camille.

” I feared the worst about my friend—that it was already too late for her.

Then I tried to tell myself there would be no logic to getting rid of her.

He’d lose leverage. Josh may have been evil or insane, but he wasn’t dumb.

Karl did as I asked, even though I could tell him from his expression, he wasn’t happy with the arrangement. He paused and asked the question that was on both of our minds. “Is it time for us to call the cops? Let them handle this?”

Although it made perfect sense what someone outside our nightmare would do, I couldn’t entertain the notion. It was too risky. If sirens sounded, if a police presence was even suspected, I harbored no fantasies that Josh wouldn’t kill her.

As I neared the tunnel, Karl ducked beneath the finger-like limbs of a tree—not much protection or stealth. It would have to do.

Now, as I took a few steps closer to the black mouth of the tunnel, I was completely drenched, shivering and even, at times, my teeth chattering.

There’s no one here. Aloud, I reassured myself, “He’s coming.

I have no doubt of it.” To the south, a flash of lightning over the downtown skyline, then a grumble of thunder.

The sky was rapidly darkening, becoming the color of a bruise.

Was this heralding his arrival? Don’t be absurd.

“I just wanna get Camille back. Why would he take her?”

My own mind answered back, to get you here. I scanned the horizon, looking for two silhouetted figures walking.

But there was no one.

I drew closer to the darkness of the tunnel and stood just outside its entrance. I moved in a bit closer.

“Ted.”

Behind me, I could have sworn someone said my name, but when I turned to look, there was no one there.

I turned back.

A lone figure stood in the dim light at the far end of the tunnel.

A silhouette against a dirty white sky. Suddenly, the traffic above the tunnel on Lake Shore Drive went silent.

I felt as though lifted from reality; my focus zeroed in on that figure, wearing a long coat, which billowed out with the icy wind.

A fedora topped the head of the figure—it was like something out of a film noir movie.

Where’s Camille?

I glanced back and could see Karl, still standing beneath the tree, the picture of both misery and, I guess, curiosity. I wanted to wave, give a thumbs up, but I didn’t dare. I didn’t want Josh—if it was indeed Josh—any indication that I wasn’t alone.

But I was alone. And that terrified me. I had to fight the urge to turn and run.

I moved into the darkness.

The figure at the other end didn’t move.

When I got about halfway there, the figure shook, as though shaking rain from the long coat.

“Josh?” I called out.

And when I did, the figure turned and started to move away—not running, but simply walking slowly, with purpose.

I took this as a sign to follow. Perhaps Camille was just out of sight at the other end?

I quickened my pace, the thrum of traffic above me loud and, in my worried and frightened state, like the growl of a monster.

When I reached the other end of the tunnel, though, there was not a soul in sight.

All I could see was an expanse of damp grass and mud which led to the beach which abutted churning and angry Lake Michigan, its color dark gray, tipped with silver waves that rose and flung themselves mercilessly at the shore.

On a normal day, even a cold one, there might be runners out, or a biker or two, someone walking at the water’s edge. But today, with the chill and mixture of rain and snow, there was no one. The waterfront was as deserted as if it was three o’clock in the morning.

I let out a whimper of disappointment and frustration, casting my gaze from side to side. Where had the figure gone? Had it even been Josh, or was it simply a bizarre coincidence?

Footsteps sounded behind. Breathlessly, I turned.

I was glad to see Karl, standing cautiously behind me, his face mirroring the disappointment blackening my soul.

He shook his head and held out his arms.

I went to him, but couldn’t stop the burning pain of the questions repeating endlessly in my head.

Where was Camille? Was she all right? Had I done this to her?

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