Many Waters

  Chapter Nineteen - Cody

  “Hey, Layla! Wait!” I called, running after her.

  I barely caught sight of her turning the corner at the end of the hall, and then I was just in time to see the front doors slamming behind her. I ran outside without even stopping to grab a jacket, but by the time I got there she was nowhere to be seen.

  I cussed under my breath. It was useless to go searching for her amongst the buildings in the dark. She could be anywhere, and I was already shivering. I kicked the frozen ground in frustration and retreated to the warmth of the building. There hadn’t been anyone around to see what happened, so I was able to get back to the washateria without having to explain things to anybody, at least.

  Which was good, since I couldn’t think of any remotely sensible explanation for it.

  Layla’s purse and clothes were still sitting on the seat where she’d left them, and at first I thought she’d come back for them in a few minutes.

  But time dragged by, and she never showed. By the time my clothes were dried and folded she still hadn’t returned, even though at that point it had been over an hour since she left.

  I drummed my fingers against the cold steel of the washer, trying to think what to do. I couldn’t very well leave the purse unattended, and I didn’t feel like staying there to guard it all night either. I finally decided to take it with me; she knew where my room was, and she could go there just as easily as she could go to the lost and found. Maybe that way I’d have a chance to get some answers.

  I actually started to worry about her a little bit when she still hadn’t showed up by the time I got off work the next day. Yeah, I might have been irritated with her for kissing me, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to get chomped by a grizzly bear or freeze to death out on the tundra. I went to her room and got no answer when I knocked on the door, and when I asked around a little bit it turned out nobody could remember seeing her since the day before.

  Nobody, that is, until I thought to ask the ticket office at the airport. The man didn’t know Layla by name, but like I said there are precious few pretty young women in Prudhoe Bay. A girl matching Layla’s description had left that very morning on the first flight to Fairbanks. I didn’t doubt it was her, but that only left me even more confused than ever. I started to wonder if she’d lost her mind.

  I know it wasn’t proper, but I decided that under the circumstances I didn’t have much choice but to go through her things and try to find some kind of clue as to what was going on.

  With that thought in mind, I went home and quietly dumped her purse out onto my bed, rummaging through it to see if there was anything worth paying attention to. There didn’t really seem to be, other than the usual things. Credit cards, lipstick, an expired New Mexico driver’s license for Layla Martin, things like that.

  Then I noticed an anomaly. The picture on the driver’s license was most definitely Layla, but the birth date seemed to be saying she was thirty-two years old. I moved the plastic into the light from the lamp, sure I must have misread the year. But no, there it was, plain as day.

  There was absolutely no way the girl I knew was thirty-two years old. Not unless she’d had some incredible plastic surgery in the meantime. She didn’t even look twenty. I frowned again and set the license aside, digging deeper into the junk from the bag. But there was nothing else I could find that seemed to shed any light on the mystery.

  I stuffed everything back into the purse, keeping only the driver’s license. I didn’t know what I might need it for, but it was the only proof I had that something weird was going on, even if I didn’t have a clue what it was, yet.

  That was before I talked to Troy. It was the first chance we’d had to socialize in weeks, and I was glad to see him.

  “So what’s up, lil cuz?” he asked, sitting next to me at the cafeteria table.

  “Not much, really. Somethin’ kinda weird happened last week,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he asked, shoveling down his steak and mashed potatoes.

  “Well, there’s this girl named Layla Martin that I met not long after I got here, and she used to run with me down there on the highway after work, you know. But-“ I said, and that was as far as I got.

  “Bubba, I’m not gettin’ in your business or nothin’, but you’re not, like, with that girl, are you?” Troy interrupted, looking anxious.

  “No, but why do you ask?” I asked, curious.

  “Oh, nothin’, nothin’. Never mind I said anything,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, you did say something, so now you better tell me,” I demanded.

  “It’s nothin’, Cody. Really. I just heard some stuff about that girl, that’s all. She’s bad news,” he admitted reluctantly.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “All I know is, she’s had a lot of boyfriends, and some way or other they all end up goin’ home sick after a while. It’s only rumors, you know,” he said hastily.

  “She really seemed like she had a thing for me,” I admitted, hoping that little tidbit might pry some more information out of him.

  “Don’t, bubba,” Troy said, looking dead serious.

  “Don’t what?” I asked.

  “Don’t even think about goin’ out with that girl. Please promise me you won’t,” he said.

  “You’re kinda creeping me out, dude,” I said.

  “Cody, I used to know one of the boys she went out with. He was younger than you, and healthy as a horse. When he left he looked bad, like an old man. I’m tellin’ you, that girl is bad news,” he repeated earnestly.

  “Well, see, that’s the weird thing. I didn’t want to go out with her, but I liked her all right as a friend, you know. So I was sitting there in the washateria last week, just talking to her, and she comes right out and kisses me, totally out of the blue. So I push her away, not mean or anything, and she looks at me like she’s seen a ghost and runs out of the building so fast I couldn’t even catch her to ask what was wrong. Didn’t even take her purse with her, and when I asked around a little bit I found out she left town on the first plane she could catch. I don’t know what to think,” I admitted.

  “I think you should thank God she’s gone, that’s what I think,” Troy said solemnly.

  “I just wish I knew what was going on, that’s all. What’s the name of that boy you said you knew, the one that used to go out with Layla who ended up sick? Maybe he might know something,” I said, thinking out loud.

  “Um. . . Fitch, I think. James Fitch. He was from Memphis, or somewhere close to there. I don’t know his number or anything but you might could find him if you dig a little. Give him a call, see what he says,” Troy shrugged.

  “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that,” I agreed, and that was that.

  It took a little bit of work to find James Fitch’s number, mainly because it turned out he was from Memphis, Nebraska, instead of Memphis, Tennessee. But there was no doubt I’d found the right person. I confirmed it with the personnel department at the oil company, and now all that was left was to call him.

  I sat beside the phone uneasily, with the number written down on a slip of notebook paper on the table. Then I slowly punched in the buttons, not sure what to say even if I got hold of the man.

  “Hello?” the voice on the other end said. He had a strong Midwestern accent, and he sounded awfully old to be the age Troy said he was.

  “Hi. Is this James Fitch?” I asked.

  “Yes, who’s this?” the man said.

  “Uh, my name’s Cody. I’m Troy Carter’s cousin; he said he knew you when you used to work in Prudhoe Bay,” I explained.

  “Yeah, I remember Troy. What do you need?” James asked. He didn’t seem very friendly, but I plunged ahead.

  “I need to ask you a few questions about a girl named Layla Martin,” I said.

  “I suggest you stay as far away from that woman as you can, if you value your life,” Jam
es Fitch said immediately.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Look. I don’t know what she did to me, or how she did it. All I can say is that I was nineteen years old when I went to Alaska, and since I got back home the doctors tell me I’ve got the body of a sixty year old man. My hair’s turned gray, and I have to wear glasses when I read. I look like my grandfather, and I feel like him, too. I know it was her that did this. I know it was. But nobody believes me,” he said.

  “I believe you,” I said, and for some reason I really did.

  “Do you? Then do yourself a favor and stay away from her,” James said bitterly, and hung up. I tried to call back twice, but no matter how many times I let the phone ring, it was never answered again.

  The conversation disturbed me, to say the least. I meant it when I said I believed James Fitch’s story. I of all people had good reason not to doubt such things, and Troy wasn’t the type to get scared over nothing. Quite the opposite, in fact. Evil is very real, and there are times when it can be deceptively beautiful on the surface, like a gorgeous carnivorous flower that will eat you alive if you get too close.

  It didn’t take too much thought to come to the conclusion that Layla had probably had the same fate in mind for me that she’d already dealt out to all those other young men. It was obviously some kind of sorcery, and in that case it puzzled me why it hadn’t worked. By all rights, I should have been on a one-way flight to the nearest nursing home by then, but for some unknown reason it hadn’t happened. Maybe that’s what freaked her out, if she tried to use her magic on me and it didn’t work.

  I couldn’t figure out what was so special about me, though. Why did I get an exception to the rules, when nobody else did? I was in favor of it, but I sure would have liked to know the reason why.

  The thing that really scared me was that I’d never suspected a thing, and I should have. It had all been right there in my dream, plain as day in hindsight. I met her on a white silver plain (that is, the snow-covered tundra), she was beautiful and deceptive, she’d destroyed many others before me, and she’d asked me to do something I knew was wrong (that is, go out with her behind Lisa’s back). I hadn’t done it, and then she’d run away from me. It all fit the dream, right down to the last jot and tittle, and I’d been too thick-headed even to recognize the signs because a pretty girl wasn’t what I expected.

  But as soon as I figured all that out, I remembered that Lisa was also supposed to have an encounter with this same evil person, and hers might not turn out so well as mine did.

  It was already evening by then, so I called her immediately to let her know who to watch out for. Her cell phone wouldn’t ring, but I finally got Jenny to answer the house phone.

  “Where’s Lisa?” I asked instantly.

  “Oh, she went to see a movie. She probably won’t be back till late,” Jenny said.

  “She did?” I asked, frowning. It seemed like an odd thing for her to do, if only because she would have known it would cause us to miss our nightly phone call. But it would’ve sounded vain to say that, of course.

  “Well. . . .listen. Would you tell her to call me whenever she gets home? I don’t care if it’s late or if she wakes me up. It’s kind of important,” I said. I was reluctant to say much more than that to Jenny.

  “Sure thing, sugar,” Jenny said.

  The only good thing about the whole situation was that Layla had completely disappeared from Prudhoe Bay. If nothing else, then at least she wouldn’t be stalking my friends and co-workers anymore. I didn’t doubt she’d probably turn up soon enough in some other obscure place and start working her evil there instead; people like that almost always do. But I was blessed if I could think of a single thing to do about that. The world is a very big haystack, to find a single person in. Layla Martin might not even be her real name for all I knew, and unless she was an idiot then the address on the driver’s license was almost certainly bogus, too.

  I thought seriously about quitting my job to go home and defend Lisa. But then again, I knew what the consequences would be if I did that, not just for me but for her and everybody else, too.

  There was Matthieu Doucet, of course; he’d warned me about this very type of situation and specifically offered to help. But he was several hours away from where the action would be if Layla showed up, so that didn’t seem like such an ideal solution, either. Besides the fact that I didn’t know him from Adam and he’d told me with his own mouth to be careful about strangers.

  I finally decided this was a time when all I could do was depend on Marcus to fill in for me and make sure everybody was protected. He was close, and I knew I could trust him. I didn’t like having to lean on him so hard, but under the circumstances I didn’t have much choice. Sometimes every option you’ve got is a bad one and all you can do is pick the one which is least awful.