Primal Threat - Earl Emerson [68]
“Where’s he going?” asked Scooter, stepping into the Porsche Cayenne.
“I don’t have a clue. But I know he hates bikes.”
29
June
Zak was relishing the stillness of the warm summer night when Stacy got out of a Carrera and slammed the door. Her exit was almost like an ejection, the car radio so loud it caused a German shepherd up the street to start baying. She’d been on a date, one of her rare social interactions since she’d moved back from Florida, and not a very successful date by the look of things.
Zak, his father, and his sister all lived in the home Zak had bought five years ago deep in the heart of the Central District, a location that missed a grandiose view of Lake Washington by a few blocks. At the time he’d purchased the house it was in ruins, so he bought it for a song compared with the other properties on the block. He’d rebuilt most of the main floor: the living room, dining room, kitchen, one bathroom, and a back bedroom, which he’d turned into a den. Upstairs he was gutting the bedrooms one by one. For the next two months he would sleep in the downstairs den while he tore his bedroom apart and restored it. Zak had done massive amounts of work on the foundation, scoured and cleaned the basement, and put on a new roof. He’d put in new walls, wiring, plumbing, hardwood floors, and fixtures. He would be doing more work this summer. The fire station was about a mile away, so most mornings he walked to and from work. What with the fire department, this house, and his bike racing, his summer plans didn’t leave much time for romance, which was one reason the unexpected affection he felt for Nadine had buffaloed him.
Tonight his sister had been out with Nadine’s brother.
Stacy was almost as tall as Zak and had been a star on the swim team at Chief Sealth High School in West Seattle. As he watched her make her way up the concrete walk and onto the wooden porch, he thought she moved more like a woman on her way to the gas chamber than an ex-athlete. He switched on a lamp just before she opened the front door.
“Hey, Stacy,” Zak said, without moving from the chair. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her mascara was smeared on her cheeks as if wet kittens had been pawing her. Stacy closed the door but remained in the shadows. He could see she had on her best shoes, a skirt, and a blouse, a sweater clutched in one arm. The blouse had a button missing at the level of her navel. “You look nice,” he said.
“I did earlier.”
“What happened?”
“Zak, honey, I don’t want you grilling me right now, okay? I know you don’t like him, and I guess I don’t, either. Can we leave it at that?”
“Sure.”
“What are you doing up?”
“We had a car wreck last night at work. A rollover. An Explorer.”
“And you had another dream about Charlene?”
“Yes.”
“Zak, it’s so strange that you managed to find a job that puts you right in the middle of your worst nightmare. I mean, if you die and go to hell, this would be it.”
“What happened to your lip?”
She touched her face. “I didn’t think it showed.”
“He hit you, didn’t he?”
“It was what you might call a mutual love fest.”
“How do you get into a fistfight on your first date?”
She walked into the room and sat heavily on the sofa across from Zak. As more light blanched her pale face and it became even more obvious that Stacy had been crying, Zak thought of several things to say, but discarded each as it came to mind.
“Life is full of disappointments,” she said. “Some just a little uglier than others, but it’s not the end of the world. In the morning I’ll get up, have my coffee, and go to work.”
He felt like driving to Kasey’s house and beating the crap out of him, but all that would get him was a night in jail, maybe more.
“Zak? I know you think you have to take care of me, and I love having you for my brother because of that. What I’m trying to say is I’m grateful for your concern,