Authors: Lev AC Rosen
Depth (26 page)
“I was never in love with your father,” she said, her voice gentler than usual. “Maybe you have some fairy-tale idea that he was perfect and no woman could resist him, but it wasn’t like that. It was time together, boredom, stakeouts, restlessness.” Simone thought maybe she’d seen her dad as irresistible as a kid, but now she remembered what he’d spent his life teaching her, and it made her think that he had been lonely. Lonely, sad, and angry.
“It wasn’t love,” Kluren continued. “I don’t know if he even liked me very much. Hell, I didn’t like him. So when he said we should stop, I said fine, and applied for a new partner. He said he was going home to tell his wife. Next thing I know he’s retired and your mom is gone. He was a cop. A good cop. He always got the evidence, even if he had to put it there. You can’t be that good a cop without having a little darkness in you. Not out here. So, yeah, I wonder sometimes where your mother went. She ever write to you? Did she leave you a goodbye letter?”
Simone crossed her arms.
“Didn’t think so. Makes you wonder about how he went out, doesn’t it?” Simone willed herself not to blink, to keep staring forward. “When I look at you, I see all that. But that’s not why I’m hard on you, Pierce. I’m hard on you ’cause you’re sloppy. You follow your instincts, but nothing else. That’s why deCostas is getting away. That’s why people are dead.”
Simone opened her mouth but had nothing to say and closed it again.
“Right.” Kluren walked back around to her side of the desk and sat down, looking at the papers in front of her while Simone stared, waiting for something, though she couldn’t say what. “You should go now.”
Peter was outside, waiting for her. She tried to smile at him but then realized she looked angry and shook her head. He followed her out of Teddy.
“What did she say?”
“That the ocean is deep and dark and we’re all just a few feet from drowning,” she said tonelessly. She could feel Peter stepping forward, reaching out to put his hand on her. Ten minutes before she would have wanted that, but now the thought of it made her sick. She didn’t know who he was. She didn’t know who anyone was. Her dad had been a corrupt cop. She was probably dirty, too, in some way, and she didn’t want to get that on Peter, if he was clean. And if he was dirty, she didn’t want to know.
She turned around before he could touch her and locked her eyes with his. She sidestepped his hand. “I should go,” she said. “I’m supposed to meet Caroline and Danny. I’ll see you later.”
“Sure,” he said. He looked confused and sad and Simone knew it was her fault, but she couldn’t fix it.
“We can all drown together,” Simone said. Peter nodded, though he clearly didn’t understand, then went back inside. But Simone stayed on deck a few minutes longer, staring up at the sky, where the seagulls flew like dirt in the wind. The air was getting even colder, and the salt smell was stronger now, burning her nose and eyes.
She remembered the day she’d poured her dad into the water. She’d found him dead in his office armchair one morning, gun in his hand, bullet in his skull. She’d taken his body to the recycling center herself, wrapped up in sheets in the back of a taxi boat with a driver who kept staring at her. She asked them to take care of it as quickly as possible, but when they saw the red button on his temple, the entrance and exit wounds, they asked her to wait in the other room.
She’d sat alone there, didn’t call anyone, didn’t cry, didn’t check her messages. The room was small and white and brightly lit like a freezer. Eventually, one of the attendants had come back in and brought her back to the room where her father was. She was led in as Kluren was walking out. They stared at one another as they passed in the hall, and Simone looked back as she went into the room. Kluren stood outside, arms crossed, waiting.
They had burned her father and handed her the ashes in a black plastic cylinder. She’d held it in both hands as she walked back out, as though it held something more than dust. Kluren was still there. They looked at each other from across the room, and Simone felt her eyes water up but then swallowed, deeply, and forced her face straight. She’d never spoken to Kluren alone. It had always been her dad who handled things when they got hauled in to the police.
Simone walked across the room to her. Kluren’s golden eyes seemed to dilate slightly, taking her in. They’d stared at each other, Simone trying to figure how to ask what she wanted to ask.
“Clearly a suicide,” Kluren said, as if reciting to a judge. “No need for investigation. Case closed. File sealed.”
Simone let out a deep breath and stared down at the black cylinder.
“And you won’t tell anyone?” she asked.
“No,” Kluren said.
“Then it was a heart attack,” Simone said, looking back up. Kluren’s expression didn’t change, but she leaned forward very slightly.
“You have a lot of potential. You should join the force. I could make sure you moved up the ranks quick, lose some bad habits.”
Simone shook her head, her eyes watering again, though she didn’t know why. “Dad always said the cops had too much red tape to deal with. Couldn’t get things done.”
Kluren let out a disappointed sigh. “Look around, Simone. You’re alone in the middle of the ocean. We all are. Do you really think it matters what color the tape is, as long as it holds us together?”
“My dad—”
“Don’t be him.” It wasn’t so much an order as it was a warning. “Be better.”
Simone realized how close they were now, how she could feel the heat off Kluren’s body, almost see the circuits in her eyes, and she stepped backwards. She stroked the black cylinder in her hands and looked down at it. It was made of cheap plastic. It felt like if she squeezed it, it might crack and explode in her hands, sending ashes everywhere in a cloud.
When she looked back up, Kluren was gone. Simone told everyone it was a heart attack. Her dad hadn’t taken great care of himself. No one doubted it. They told her how sorry they were and offered to cook for her and take her in and make everything better. She smiled and shook her head. She was fine. Never trust anybody. Not even Dad.
There had been clouds on the horizon that day, and the water had been choppy. It had looked to Simone like the waves were reaching out to pull the ashes down, to sink them as low as they would go, to the blackest part of the water.
Her mother had never left her a note, but that didn’t matter much anymore. It didn’t even matter if what Kluren was implying was true or if when she met Simone at the recycling building that day, she’d been unsurprised. Relieved. However her mother had gone, she’d gone.
Simone turned and walked off Teddy. She tapped her earpiece and called Caroline.
“I hate my parents,” Caroline said, when she answered. Simone laughed at this and found she couldn’t stop. She laughed as she walked down a rickety bridge and the water reached up to grab her. “What’s so funny?” Caroline asked over her laughter, and Simone stopped.
“Nothing,” she said.
“You okay?” In the background, Simone could hear Caroline walking through City Hall Plaza, her footsteps on the solid wood, the fountain in the background. She pictured her there, staring up at the city, about to go into work after an awful morning, and still as poised and put together as a statue.
“Let’s have dinner. I want to tell you some things.” She stopped next to a large cruise ship and lit a cigarette.
“Okay,” Caroline said. “But not out. I’m sick of eating in public.”
“So come over. I’ll grab some food from one of the noodle carts or something.”
“Get the pad thai from Suzy’s,” Caroline said. “I’ll be by after work. I’ll complain about my parents some more.”
“Me too,” Simone said, exhaling smoke. It spread out into the air like vanishing ghosts.
“Okay, see you then.”
“Yeah,” Simone said. “And thanks.”
“For what?”
“For listening, I guess.”
“Sure,” Caroline said. “Later, stalker.” Caroline hung up. Simone stood where she was for a long moment. There were no other people in sight, and she could hear the waves underfoot and the way they hit the boat’s side. She could smell the salt and the vague gasoline smell of boats. She took another drag on her cigarette. There were a lot of bodies under her, their ashes piling up to make underwater trenches and caves. Tunnels, maybe. She smiled at that. Tunnels made of ash leading all the way back to the mainland. But she was still floating. She threw her cigarette into the water. Its burning red end went out immediately, like the final flash of lightning in a storm. She watched the cigarette bob there for a moment—just another bit of trash in the ocean. Then, she put her hands in her pockets and started walking home.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe so many people so many thanks for their help with this book—the first and foremost being my parents, for their incredible support and, as my dad is a big mystery fan and my mom loves sci-fi, for their inspiration. They both read this book multiple times and gave me such great feedback, too. I could not have done this without them and there are not enough ways to thank them for everything.
I pretty much wrote this book for my agent, Joy, and followed her lead on every revision and decision. She’s always pushing me in new directions and to try new things and I cannot thank her enough for all her love and support. This book would not exist without her.
My editor, Ron, has been totally amazing throughout this entire process, with a fantastic eye for refinement. He’s made this book so much stronger than it was when he got it, and he’s been funny and kind and wonderful to work with. Thank you, Ron, for being an awesome guy and an awesome editor. And thank you to the entire team at Regan Arts, especially Emi, Richard, Lynne, and, of course, Judith.
My readers! My amazing writing group and readers who are incredibly supportive and inspiring: Laura, Robin, Schmergel, Margel, Stella, Paula, Holly, Ryan, Rebecca, Adam, Angela, Leslie, and Sarah. They’ve all been vital to honing this book into what it is and I’m appreciative to all of them for taking the time to help me.
I also need to thank so many other people: Luke, for his thoughts and advice and helping out Joy when she was off having a baby. He really went above and beyond. My father-in-law, Mark, who provided me with stories, information, and some really disturbing photos from his time as a diver for the sheriff’s department. And Jens, my munitions expert, for talking me through all the gun stuff.
And Chris, for being Chris.
About the Author
Author photo by Rachael Shane
LEV AC ROSEN is the author of the critically acclaimed
All Men of Genius
and the middle grade novel
Woundabout
. Lev is originally from lower Manhattan, and now lives in even lower Manhattan, right at the edge of the water, with his husband and a very small cat. You can find him online at
LevACRosen.com
.
65 Bleecker Street
New York, NY 10012
Copyright © 2015 by Lev AC Rosen
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Regan Arts Subsidiary Rights Department, 65 Bleecker Street, New York, NY 10012.
First Regan Arts hardcover edition, April 2015.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014955529
ISBN 978-1-941393-07-9
ISBN 978-1-941393-80-2 (eBook)
Interior design by Kris Tobiassen of Matchbook Digital
Jacket design by Richard Ljoenes
Jacket art by Vladimir Krizan