The People Next Door by Christopher Ransom Read Free Book Online Page B

halted.
    Mick waved and the figure waved. Not back, but at the same time.
    With the same right arm.
    ‘Sonofa …’ The man was taunting him. He had half a mind to go over there and rattle the gates, introduce himself to this paranoid
     asshole. He headed back toward his truck and, sure enough, after only two paces the man – had to be a man, some macho peacock
     strutting his feathers – was matching Mick’s every stride.
    He stopped. His neighbor stopped.
    ‘Hey, bite me!’
    The sentinel did not respond.
    ‘You want something from me?’ Mick called out. ‘Whydon’t you fuck off back into your ugly house!’ The sound of his own voice made him giggle.
    ‘Mick?’
    He turned. Amy was standing at the open sliding glass door.
    ‘Are you coming in?’
    ‘Be right there.’
    ‘Who were you talking to?’
    ‘This asshole thinks he can …’ Mick pointed, but the terrace was vacant from end to end. And the house was dark, not a single
     window was glowing, even though just seconds ago the entire back half of the house seemed to be filled with light. He lowered
     his arm.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Forget it. I’m just tired.’
    But he suspected already that this was not true.

13
    He watched half a movie with Kyle before nodding off. Amy tugged his ear gently and he rose from the couch. She carried his
     boat shoes in one hand as they went down the hall, her fingers under the tongues like hooks in fish gills, and he wished she
     would throw them away. She set them on the carpet, just inside the master’s walk-in closet and he suppressed the urge to walk
     over and shut the door.
    Those are the shoes I almost drowned in. I don’t ever want to see them again
.
    He sat on the bed, feeling stoned.
    ‘I did some research online,’ Amy said. She had some papers in hand. She was always probing around on WebMD, reading about
     symptoms and treatments on various internet forums frequented by people who loved playing their own doctor. ‘When someone
     suffocates in a body of warm water,’ she told him, glancing at the printouts, ‘damage at the cellular level is swift. The
     most common danger is hypoxemia, lack of oxygen in the blood, which deprives the brain.’
    ‘My brain is fine,’ Mick said.
    Amy squished the papers at her side. ‘You were out there all alone for at least ten and possibly as long as eighteen minutes,
     Mick. You could have serious problems we aren’t even aware of.’
    ‘You’re overreacting. I hit my head, is all.’ He pointed to his forehead, which was not bleeding or bruised, only swollen.
     ‘Does this look serious?’
    Amy read from her papers again. ‘Dizziness, auditory hallucinations, physical tremors, lapses in memory, fatigue, mania, lethargy,
     foreign smells, loss of motor control, clumsy limbs, rage, depression, mood swings, PTSD, seeing things out of the corner
     of your eye. This goes on and on. Do not lie to me, Mick.’
    ‘Is that all? I’ve had most of those symptoms for years.’
    ‘That’s supposed to be funny?’
    Mick shrugged. The fight went out of them both. His thoughts then leapt to something so alarming, he could not believe Amy
     hadn’t said something earlier.
    ‘What happened to Roger?’ He noticed how she stiffened. ‘Him and the woman. Something happened to them, didn’t it?’
    Amy tugged at her sleeves, avoiding his eyes. ‘You’re remembering this now or it’s just a …’ She made a whirling motion with
     her fingers.
    ‘It’s more than a feeling and less than a memory.’
    Amy cleared her throat. ‘We saw them, earlier in the day. We were tied off at the dock when he stopped by. Typical Roger,
     in party-guy mode. He was with Bonnie Abrahams, one of his hygienists. No one knows where they went.’
    ‘Was he there on the boat when I went to check on them?’
    Amy hesitated before saying, ‘No.’
    Something was wrong with that. ‘You’re not sure,’ Mick said. ‘Because I don’t remember. And Wisneski didn’t see them when
     he