STRANGER (5)

CHAPTER FIVE

“What did you do, Javier?” she blurted in to the speaker the second the phone connected. Her heart was racing as she paced up and down, ignoring the old haggard woman coughing painfully beside her.

“Nothing, my love! I did nothing and I hope you’re on a bus on your way down here.” He took a gulp from his scotch.

“Morgan Pyle is dead! And no I’m not on a bus - in fact, I’m not coming at all. I didn’t sign up for murder, Javier! Now what the hell happened?”

“You signed up for everything the moment you met Brendan Pyle at that bar, and I have everything under control, so stop whining and get your ass down here immediately.” He didn’t hide his disgust at her weakness, “you know I hate waiting”.

Larry frowned deeply as he watched the tape while Brendan nervously paced the room.

“Do you have the slightest idea what this guy wants?” Larry got up and put on his jacket.

“If I did would I be here?” he answered rudely. He hadn’t eaten or rested since he found the tape and he doubted he would be able to eat anything proper for the rest of his life if the tape got out.

“Be calm, this doesn’t prove anything,” Larry said calmly, taking his coat off its rack and adjusting the collar.

“Be calm? My wife is dead, Larry, and someone has a tape of her affair with my boss which gives me a motive to kill her and you want me to be calm? Why are you calm? I could go to jail!” he shouted again.

“You’re not going to jail. And this is my job, so be calm…” he said, placing both hands on Brendan’s shoulders. “The police found a foot print in your bedroom that may or may not be yours or Bradley’s. They’re running it now, and sweeping the place, checking the CCTV for anything out of the ordinary. You can’t come out of hiding yet because your alibi doesn’t exist.” Brendan glared; he continued, “yes, Lydia Spark never lived there, and she never worked at mode magazine, and if this woman ever existed she must have a hand in all of this hence her disappearance”.

He walked to the door, “I’m going to the station to see if they have any leads until then you know what not to do” he said finally, leaving Brendan  more confused and afraid.

3:55pm…

The phone buzzed under the dusty old pillow Brendan rested his aching head on, exhausted from the lack of sleep he didn’t bother checking the caller because only Larry had the new number.

“So did you enjoy watching the tape as much as I did?  I’m sure your late wife must have satisfied you very well in the bedroom”

“Who is this? How did you get this number? Why are you doing this? ” he still had pages filled with questions to ask before the voice cut him off.

“I want you to understand something Mr. Pyle. I have my eyes on you every minute, you can’t hide from me. I’d like to tell you more about myself and how fearful I am but you’ll find out for yourself when I am done with you,” he paused, “now, like I said yesterday, you have what’s mine…”

“And what could this God-forsaken thing be? Did you kill my wife?” Brendan said, hot tears stung his eyes and he shut them tight.

“What? Did you watch the tape to the end? The only person behind Morgan’s death is you. You killed your beloved wife…unintentionally of course, and that brought you under my radar so if you don’t give me what I want, the police will have the proof they need”

“And what do you want?”

“My money-”

“W-what money? I don’t have any money,” Brendan stuttered over the phone, subconsciously calculating his net worth. “I do not doubt that Mr. Pyle, your measly $20,000 is of no use to me,” he said, not hiding the disdain in his voice. “Your cheating wife stole $100,000,000 from me and I want it back.”

Brendan’s eyes widened in disbelief “No sir, you are mistaken, Morgan didn’t have any money, we operated a joint account. She was broke. I married her broke and she died a broke woman!” his heart beat harder and faster.

“yes you did…” the voice laughed. “I admire your loyalty to your cheating wife Mr. Pyle but how well did you know your wife” he laughed again. “I’m having something delivered to your motel as we speak, wait for my call”

Brendan bolted for the brown oak door of his motel room, as his starved mined pieced everything together. This had to be a dream he thought. There was no explanation for how his life could’ve changed overnight from average model citizen to his current predicament. The voices words rang in his head, that mixed with hunger and insomnia made him delirious.  And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse his mind had done its bit and pieced the puzzled together.

Morgan faked her death.

Brendan paced up and down in his motel room while Larry examined the contents of the parcel in front of him. The safety deposit box key and the bank details, the money was real, stashed away in a secret elite bank with maximum security.. She used the alias Mr. and Mrs. Jordan and Camille Sorken so only she and Brendan had access to it. Larry got up and walked to the window trying to think straight without Brendan’s mumbling distracting him. Except Morgan planned on getting killed, why did she use fake names to hide the money? She must’ve been hiding it from someone else and didn’t want anyone to trace it to her, he thought.

“Larry! I’ve figured it out! Don’t say I’m crazy because I am not! Morgan isn’t dead! She faked her death! But she made sure to make my life miserable first. She stole someone’s money...I supposed from when she worked at the bank. And then disappeared so this mysterious and creepy guy could scare the crap out of me so I could help her get the money. In fact I bet the caller is Bradley! One hundred million dollars Larry...that is how much it cost  to ruin my life and my marriage.  I’m going to the police  station to turn myself in, I am not her pawn! Not anymore”.

“What!” Larry exclaimed. “what are you talking about? Morgan is dead! The police found her body in your apartment!”

“What if that’s not her? She was alive when I left her, Larry. Are the lab results out yet? Are they certain its Morgan? It could be another person she paid from her enormous fortune to lie there and play dead”

Larry sighed.  He sat on his desk and decided it was time Brendan learnt the truth before he formed another crazy delusional theory.

“The lab results are out Brendan, Morgan is dead…” he paused, Brendan’s shoulder dropped, and he continued, “but she didn’t die from a concussion or hemorrhage. Morgan was stabbed to death 12 times in the chest”.