Running With the Shadows of the Night, chapter 15

We can talk now.

Yes. Your mom’s gone to dinner.

I’m glad you came early again.

I thought we might want to take the window of opportunity that we have.

Yeah.

You said you had questions last night.

I think they can wait. I want to hear the next part. Brittany just came slamming into the room. If I was her, I’d be mad that he didn’t answer my texts.

I think she might have been.

Tell me.

“What the hell is going on, Ken?” Brittany demanded, shrilly. “Dolores just told me the police found a woman’s bones in your garage? And some other shit about a ghost that I couldn’t even follow. And then I just saw a body bag getting loaded into some creepy van. What’s the deal here? Oh, and thanks for answering my texts, asshole!”

“What are you doing here, Brit?” Kenny asked, doing a poor job of hiding his alarm.

“What am I doing here? I’m your girlfriend, for chrissake.”

Detective Washington rose and pulled herself up to her full height. She looked more imposing than Senka would have thought she could. “Ms. Ricci, would you sit down, please?”

“Who are you?” Brittany looked the detective up and down with the aplomb of someone inexperienced with the police. Washington introduced herself and Velasquez, who nodded as he turned the Chesterfield chair to incorporate it into their little grouping. Brittany sat, and Washington went on.

“Ms. Ricci, can you tell us where you were last night?”

“I’m not in any trouble, am I? I have nothing to do with whatever he’s been getting up to.”

“Jesus, Brit,” Kenny said through gritted teeth.

Washington interrupted him. “No, you’re not in any trouble. So, can you tell us where you were?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “Last night, we, Kenny and me, we got into a fight, and he drove me home.”

Velasquez pulled out his notebook and made a note. Washington asked, “What time was that?”

“Not long after he got home from his golf game.” She said the last two words in a tone of utter disdain. “About 5, I guess.”

“I see. So you weren’t here in the evening and you didn’t spend the night?”

“No.”

“Officers,” Kenny interrupted. “You need to understand that she doesn’t have the best memory. She gets drunk and blacks out.”

“Fuck you, Ken.” She turned to the detectives.

“I’m sorry, Babe, but it’s true. You know it is.”

“He does this kind of shit to me all the time. I remember better than he thinks I do. I remember a lot more than he thinks I remember.”

As if the interruption hadn’t happened, Washington continued her questioning. “What did you argue about?”

“Her.” Senka pointed over her shoulder at the poster.

“Sarah Sommers?”

“Yeah, her!” Brittany turned in her chair to look at the poster, stopping cold when she saw that it was swung away from the wall to reveal a safe. “What the heck is that?” She looked back at Kenny and for the first time noticed her portrait. “Why is that crooked?” She looked around the room. “Are you kidding me?” She slumped back in defeat. “Nobody noticed. Why do I bother? You all have a life-size nude hanging in your faces, but not one of you notices that it’s crooked.” She laughed bitterly. “You were all over that, though.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of the poster again.

Washington was unruffled. “Where were you two nights ago?”

“I was here.”

Senka felt a wave of disappointment overtake her. She saw that Washington and Velasquez echoed her emotion.

“You were here throughout the evening and night?” Washington clarified.

“Well, kind of. We went out to dinner. I drank a little too much. We got back here about 10:30, I guess, and Kenny made us a nightcap. Or two. I don’t remember much after that. I kind of passed out. But it’s not like he said. I don’t do that a lot. It was just that night. I remember that I went home last night. Anyway, yesterday, I woke up around five or six in my chair here, peed, got a drink of water, and went back to sleep. I don’t know when I got up for real. It was light out, and I called an Uber to take me home ‘cause Ken wasn’t down yet.”

Kenny slumped in his chair, his head pressed against the back. His lawyer rested his chin on his fist and regarded Brittany balefully.

“Thank you, Ms. Ricci. You’ve been very helpful.”

“No problem. You know, for the last two years, he’s been telling me he can’t marry me because his wife might still come back. If it turns out he killed her—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Kenny leaped from his chair. His face was red with fury. “Shut up, you stupid—”

The lawyer was on his feet again. He moved faster than Senka thought him capable. He slammed his fist on the desk nearly cracking the top. With his face inches from Kenny’s, he shouted, “Sit down and don’t say a word!”

Kenny sank into his chair looking stunned. There was silence in the room. Then the lawyer turned back to the two detectives. “Let’s get my client booked, shall we?” he asked, his voice steady and calm. He looked again at Kenny. “Go with them. Don’t open your mouth. I’ll call Salazar. You’ll be out in two hours.”

“Who’s Salazar?” Senka asked, but no one heard her. She saw the detectives share a look. Velasquez gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head and rolled his eyes.

As Senka rose up through the roof of the house, she saw that the sun was setting. She hadn’t realized that so much time had passed. She flew home to Silas as quickly as she could. The cottage tours were long over, and he was sitting on the loveseat with the laptop perched on his knee reading Dorothy Sayers’ The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club. He looked up with delight as Senka alit in front of him. Setting the computer aside, he stood and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Senka buried her face in his shirt and took in his ever-present pine forest scent.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Silas said at length. “Tell me everything.”

Senka started at the beginning with Dolores’ daisies-and-horchata tribute and recounted the day in detail, ending with Brittany’s statement revealing that she couldn’t supply any reliable alibi for Kenny. “Then the lawyer said he’d call Salazar, and Kenny would be out in two hours. Who do you think that is?”

Silas reached for his laptop, opened Google, and typed “Salazar Monterey” in the search bar. The second link read, “Ignacio Salazar - Balletopedia.org.” With her cheek pressed against Silas’ shoulder, Senka read the page that opened. The first line told them all they needed. “Ignacio E. Salazar, Monterey County Superior Court.” Without a word, Silas opened Facebook, went to Kenny’s page, and searched “Friends.” Salazar came up immediately. Kenny had tagged him in a picture with two other men, the four of them making an asterisk with their golf clubs, the wind ruffling their hair as they stood on a green at the edge of the ocean.

“Does it work like that?” Senka asked. “Can this golfing buddy get him out?”

“If he isn’t setting bail, he can call the judge who is and put in a good word. That would be persuasive enough, I think.”

“We can’t let that happen, Silas.”

“I don’t know that we have a choice, my love.”

“I’ve got to go back.” She jumped up. “I have to be ready for him if he ends up back there.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure that out if I need to. I’ll improvise. Like you said before.”

Silas rose and smiled down at her. “Of course you will. Shall I come with you, now that it’s dark?”

Senka dearly wanted him to, but she wasn’t sure what to expect at the house. It would be complicated if Silas suddenly appeared in front of a team of forensic technicians still sifting through the various rooms. “I’ll be back after midnight,” she told him. “If he’s not home by then, he won’t be coming tonight.” She kissed him and set off on the now familiar route to Kenny’s house.

The driveway was free of vehicles, and the techs were gone. In the garage, the shelves were empty, though the sportscar was still parked in front of the door into the entryway. She went through and stopped to listen. The house was silent. Senka flitted quickly through all the rooms to make sure there was no one there. Gambling on Kenny needing to return home, she sat on the living room couch and gazed out the windows into the dark night, thinking.

She didn’t have long to wait. She heard the crunch of tires on the driveway, then a car door thunk shut. The car drove off as keys rattled in the entry door, and Kenny came in. He paused, as Senka had, listening. Evidently deciding he was alone, he closed the door behind him and sprinted up the spiral stairs to the second floor. Senka rose through the ceiling and watched him as he pulled a suitcase from his large closet and began to scoop clothes into it.

He’s running, she thought. Where can he go without his passport? The detectives catalogued that and took it with them.

Kenny zipped up his suitcase and went back into the closet. When he didn’t emerge immediately, Senka followed him to the door and looked in. He had removed a pile of sweaters from a low shelf and was fiddling with something. She slipped around to peer over his shoulder. He had removed a panel in the wall and was keying a combination into a safe.

You wily dingleberry, she thought.

He grabbed a knapsack from an upper shelf and crammed multiple stacks of bills into it. That’s got to be at least a million bucks, she thought. He took out a passport and shoved it into his pocket. Senka didn’t get a good look at it but recognized that it wasn’t the blue of a US passport. It was the reddish-brown of dried blood. He zipped the knapsack closed and hurried out of the closet, grabbed his suitcase, and trotted down the stairs. Senka met him in the garage. He threw the bags into the trunk, climbed in, started the engine, and punched the remote to open the garage door. Spinning the car in a wide U-turn in the nearly empty garage, he roared out and down the driveway, leaving the garage door open behind him. Senka sprang into the air and followed, flying above him as he sped through the dark streets of Pebble Beach. She was pretty sure she knew where he was going, so she wasn’t surprised when he got onto the little highway that headed east toward the freeway. She waited until she saw him pull into the long-term parking lot, grab his bags, and toss the keys onto the front seat of the car. He wasn’t planning to come back for it. The last thing she saw before she turned towards home and Silas was Kenny walking into the Monterey Airport.

As soon as she entered the cottage, Silas stood. “Where is he?” he asked, reading her expression.

“At the airport.”

“Kill him, will him, or talk to him?” he asked.

“Talk first.”

She took his hand and, at the speed of thought, they were at the little Monterey airport. They were, in fact, in the upstairs men’s room.

“Sorry,” Silas said, “I didn’t want to appear in a public area, and I could hardly go to the women’s room.” They ran to the balcony that overlooked the passenger area. The airport was nearly deserted at this hour. Three people were in the security line, and a sleepy-looking employee was checking IDs. None of the passengers were Kenny. They ran down the stairs and scanned the two check-in counters. Deserted except for a United employee who was talking animatedly on the phone.

“He must be at the gate already,” Senka said. They ran back to the security check area, and Silas ducked under the guide ropes while Senka simply walked through them.

“Pardon me,” Silas said to the people in line and walked directly to the front.

“ID and boarding pass?” said the tired guard.

“You’ll let me pass.”

“You can pass.”

“Thank you.”

At the passenger and luggage scanners, there were three TSA agents. Senka had never seen Silas use his power on more than one person at a time, and she didn’t know what to expect. He swept up to the woman at the passenger scanner. “You’ll let me pass.”

“You can pass, sir.”

“Hey!” exclaimed the man screening baggage. “You can’t go around that scanner!”

Silas turned to him. “It’s fine.”

“For you, it’s fine, though,” the man parroted.

The third person, feeding luggage into the scanning machine, didn’t even look up.

“What do you think?” Silas asked as they entered the gate area. “Left or right?”

“Did you notice what was leaving first?”

“Right.”

“Right it is.”

They ran the few yards to the gate waiting area. Kenny was sitting in the far corner, as far away from the entrance as he could get, staring at his phone. Senka and Silas looked at each other. He took her hand and lifted the palm to his lips. “And we’re off,” he whispered.

They walked over to Kenny and sat down on each side of him. Senka watched him closely, though Silas kept his gaze focused straight ahead, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed neatly at the ankles. Kenny glanced over at Silas, obviously annoyed that, in a nearly empty waiting area, he had chosen to sit next to him.

“I’m interested,” Silas began. “When someone has so much, why would he hunger for more?”

Kenny looked around, trying to see what Silas was referring to. He stole a quick look at Silas, then turned back to his phone.

“I mean to say,” Silas went on, “a man has an excellent education, a challenging and lucrative career, a wife who is intelligent and charming, not to mention beautiful, and yet none of this is enough. Why?” He turned a steady gaze on Kenny.

Kenny tried to ignore him, but as Silas continued to stare, he finally looked over. “I couldn’t say. I don’t really know what you’re talking about.”

Silas smiled and cocked his head to the side. “Really? I am talking about you, of course.”

“Me? What do you know about me? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Those two statements don’t logically follow. You may not have seen me before, although, to be accurate, you have, but I certainly know a great deal about you.”

Kenny laughed. “Man, if you’re trying to weird me out, I’ve known a lot of guys who are way scarier than you could ever be.”

“Ah, you have no idea how frightening I can be,” Silas said, then smiled his most radiant smile. “But tell me,” he went on with sincere interest. “Did you really kill her for her money?”

The smile slipped from Kenny’s face. “What are you talking about, man?”

“Sarah, of course. Sarah Sommers.” Kenny started to stand, but without the least bit of effort, Silas pulled him back into his seat, perhaps a little more forcefully than absolutely necessary. “You’ll stay here,” he said.

For the first time, Kenny looked shaken. “Look, I don’t know who you are, and I have no idea what you want, but if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll call the police.”

Silas’s smile was almost kindly. Almost. “I don’t think you will. I think you would rather not see the police at all, given that you’re running away from them.”

“What are you talking about?” Kenny responded, trying to sound offhand, but Senka noticed that he had begun to sweat. Silas simply watched him. “Look, I have no idea what you think you know, but the police investigated my wife’s disappearance, and they cleared me of any wrongdoing.”

“Well, they never found enough to charge you. There’s a difference. But that’s because you sent them in the wrong direction.”

Kenny’s face went white, but he managed a tone of dismissal. “What are you talking about, man?”

“You and Sarah went north to the Santa Cruz mountains. You sent the police south to Cleveland Forest.”

As his strained expression cleared into understanding, Kenny said, “Are you kidding me? You’re from Dmitry? My debt is paid. And, what? After all this time, he’s forgotten? You tell him I still have that list. And I can still get it to the FBI.”

Understanding dawned on Senka. “The list in the safe. That’s what that was. Insurance.”

Silas gave her a subtle nod. To Kenny, he said, “But you don’t have it anymore.”

“What?”

“The police took it from your safe this afternoon. And you don’t have it in digital form. You’re far too cautious for that.”

Senka knew this last was a gamble on Silas’ part, but it was a good one given Kenny’s penchant for paper bank statements and paper checks. She was relieved when Kenny responded, “How do you know that?”

“I told you. I know a great deal about you. I know, for example, that your tearful performance this afternoon was, in the vernacular, utter bullshit. One needn’t know as much about you as I do to understand that you feel no remorse for killing Sarah Sommers. What do you think, are you a narcissist? A sociopath? Is there a difference?”

“What makes you think I killed her when there’s never been any evidence I did?”

“Because she told me.” It was a simple statement of fact. There was no triumph in Silas’ voice, perhaps just a tinge of sadness.

Kenny stared at him, slacked-jawed, for several long moments. Finally, he found his voice. “You’re fuckin’ crazy.”

“You suspect I’m not. You saw her yourself. Last night.”

Kenny tried to stand again, and again, Silas pulled him back into his seat. He looked around, wild-eyed. Their conversation hadn’t drawn the attention of the three other passengers, all sleepily nodding in their separate waiting areas, and the gate attendant hadn’t yet arrived. Finally, he turned back to Silas. “Look, what do you want?”

“What I want is to kill you. I believe it is what you deserve. But Senka,” he paused, “but Sarah has had a great deal of time to think about death. I am not alive, no more am I dead. She has a far more profound understanding of death than I will ever have.” He looked at Senka with such tenderness, it was like a balm that healed every pain that she had borne in life. “So it is what she wants that matters. That is recompense. She wants you to spend the rest of your hours and days in prison. She wants you to turn yourself in.”

Kenny, who had been staring at Silas open-mouthed, looked at him for a moment longer. Senka hoped that he was considering Silas’ words, that he would agree and go back to the police to confess. Then he laughed. It wasn’t a chuckle. It wasn’t a polite chortle. It was a long and raucous howl of merriment. The other passengers opened their eyes and glared, annoyed. Silas and Senka watched him with distaste. Finally, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, he said, “That was really good. Turn myself in! That’s funny. Why would I do that? Do you think I haven’t planned for this? I already own a house where I’m going.”

“I see. And where are you going? Somewhere without an extradition treaty with the United States, I imagine.”

“Somewhere that I won’t be found. And where the money I already have stashed buys a lot of goodwill.”

Silas looked at Senka for her thoughts. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “I wanted to give him one last chance to show remorse.”

“May I kill him, then?” Silas looked so hopeful and Kenny so appalled that Senka couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks for the offer,” she said, “but I stand by my original statement. I’d like to see justice done, even if we have to manufacture it a bit.”

“As you wish,” Silas responded with a wistful smile.

“Princess Bride! I love that movie.”

Silas snorted, then turned back to Kenny who was regarding him with an expression of complete perplexion. “She says she chooses justice over your death. I don’t find those actions mutually exclusive; however, we will do this as she chooses.” As Silas spoke the next words, Senka felt the surge of power wash around her. “You will go immediately to the police.”

“I’m going—. What? No!”

Senka looked alarmed, but Silas raised his hand, completely calm. “Of course he would be problematic at this moment, too.” To Kenny’s mounting horror, Silas extended his eyeteeth and raised his own wrist to his lips. He bit. Two puncture wounds oozed rich red blood. Silas stood and stepped in front of Kenny, masking him from the other passengers and the gate attendant, who had just arrived. With a vise-like grip, Silas grabbed Kenny’s cheeks and forced his jaws apart as if he were giving medicine to a dog. Kenny hit out at Silas and screamed inarticulately. Silas raised his dripping wrist to Kenny’s mouth and forced the blood into it. Instantly, Kenny’s hands dropped limply to his lap, and he was silent.

“Is everything alright here?” The gate attendant had appeared next to Silas, who straightened up and retracted his eye teeth, then looked around. The few gathered passengers were staring in his direction.

“It is now, thank you,” he said smoothly, hiding his still-bleeding wrist. He raised his voice slightly so that the passengers could hear him. “My friend had a seizure. It happens sometimes when he is overly excited. He is fine now, though he has decided not to travel tonight. We apologize for the commotion.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The gate attendant turned a kindly smile on Kenny. “You’re lucky to have such a good friend to take care of you.” She smiled up at Silas and went back to her desk.

“What did you do?” Senka asked when they were alone again. “He’s not going to become a vampire is he? I couldn’t stand having him around for eternity.”

“Neither could I. No, feeding him my blood makes my power over him complete. For him to become a vampire, I would need to drain nearly all of his blood, then he would need to restore himself with mine. In either case, there is a sacrifice that the vampire makes for power, as there should be. For the power I have over him now, I must experience pain and the loss of some blood.”

“Will he be this passive for good? That could be weird at the police station.”

“This phase is temporary. He will pass out of it in a moment.” He returned to his seat next to Kenny. “You will go immediately to the police.”

In a dazed tone, Kenny answered, “I will go immediately to the police.”

“You will confess to killing Sarah Sommers.”

“I killed Sarah Sommers. I’ll confess to them.”

“Yes. You will tell them exactly how it happened.”

“I’ll tell them how it happened.”

“Good.” He turned to Senka. “What about Jeremy? Would you like him to confess to his killing, as well?”

“Let’s let that unfold on its own.”

“I agree.” He looked at Kenny again. “By the way, where were you going to go?”

“Andorra. No extradition treaty.”

“That’s a lovely country.” Silas nodded his approval. “Show the police your Andorran passport.”

“I’ll show the police my Andorran passport.”

Silas rose. “Time to go.”

The three of them walked out of the airport and up to long-term parking where they climbed into Kenny’s little sportscar, Senka sitting on Silas' lap as there were only two seats. As they drove to the police station, she occasionally poked her head up through the car’s roof to feel the fresh, cool breeze blowing through her.

She and Silas stayed as long as they could, until just before sunrise. It took some time to wake Detectives Washington and Velasquez and get them down to the station. Kenny’s lawyer arrived just before them, unshaven and disheveled. They were able to hear a good portion of Kenny’s confession, though Silas had to use his powers to convince the detectives and the lawyer that he should stay. They learned nothing that they hadn’t already figured out, except that Kenny had grown to resent Sarah’s fame and the accolades she earned. When he saw Senka’s sad expression at hearing this, Silas whispered to her, “Anyone who fears that their partner outshines them is too paltry to expend energy on.”

Just before sunrise, they returned to the keeper’s cottage. Fog shrouded the protrusion of land in a soft blanket. With the sun’s first watery rays, sandpipers ran up and down the beach on little stilts, calling to each other in greeting. Seagulls clucked and cackled on the roof above their heads. For the first time since they met, they felt completely at ease. They sat on the loveseat, arms wrapped around each other, and watched the world outside their window come to life.

“What do you want to do today?” Silas asked.

“Ignore the news, look for real estate, and read a novel for the first time in over a decade,” she said instantly.

Silas laughed. “I see you’ve been thinking about this already.”

“You have no idea,” Senka said, and leaned against him contentedly.

Is that the end?

Not quite.

Did Kenny confess everything?

Yes, he did.

What happened with Jeremy?

His parents were heartbroken. They had hoped he’d be found and come home to them. They buried his body in Ms. Wang’s cemetery. They still grieve for him, though it’s been many years since he died. Human beings are resilient. They have been able to find ways to honor him and still find happiness, though it took a long time.

Yeah. Did Kenny go to jail?

Mm-hm. He did. He was tried separately for my murder and for Jeremy’s. He was found guilty in both trials. He was sentenced to two life terms, served concurrently.

What does that mean?

It means he serves the sentences at the same time.

That seems fair.

I thought so.

Senka?

Yes?

Will the story be over tomorrow?

Yes, it will.

Okay.

That’s alright with you?

Yes. I’m ready.

I wish it could be longer.

It’s okay.

Here’s your mom.

G’night.

__________

Go on to chapter 16