“We want to ask you some questions about the support group you had been attending over the last few weeks,” Avery said.
“Seriously?” he said, opening the door a bit wider. “Did Delores end up calling the police anyway?”
“She didn’t, actually,” Avery said. “We ended up visiting her for a different matter.”
This seemed to ease Dan’s mind a bit and he finally opened the door the rest of the way. It was still clear that he was very uncomfortable, though. “Come on in,” he said.
When they stepped inside, Avery found the house in nearly immaculate—albeit bland—shape. There were no pictures on the walls, no lamps, no decorations. She wondered if this had to do with his fear. Perhaps the fewer items in his house, the less afraid he was.
“So what do you need to know?” Dan asked. “If you ask me, they were the biggest bunch of crybabies I’d ever seen. Scared of everything.”
“And why were you there?” Kellaway asked.
“Phobophobia. Scared that I might get scared. It’s not like a permanent thing. It comes and goes but when it’s here, it hits hard. I was looking for help with it and ironically, seeing how those people freak out about weird stuff…well, it sort of made me feel better.”
He had led them into his living room. There was no TV, only one armchair and an old couch. The old-model stereo that had been blasting the music moments ago sat in the floor, the cords neatly tucked away behind the speakers.
“How many weeks did you attend the support group?” Avery asked.
“Three weeks. I was asked to leave on the fourth week.”
“And when was that?”
“Two weeks ago, I suppose.”
“And other than finding comfort in the fears of others, did the group help you?” Avery asked.
“Look, it wasn’t like I was mocking them.”
“From what I hear, you waved a lighter in the face of a woman who has a legitimate fear of fire. That seems like mocking. It actually seems rather aggressive.”
“I thought I was helping. With me, exposure to fear seems to make the phobia weaken. It loosens its grip on me.”
There was another whole line of questioning behind this thought, and Avery knew that it would lead down a rabbit trail. So, trying to stick to the most basic and informative line of questioning, she asked: “During your time with the group, did you get to know Alfred Lawnbrook, Abby Costello, or Janice Saunders?”
Dan nodded his head as he plopped down in the armchair. “Yeah. I met all of them. Alfred was actually pretty cool. I mean…who the hell isn’t scared of spiders? But Abby…her thing was water, right? I mean…what the hell? How do you take a bath?”
“Would you say you identified with Alfred because the idea of spiders scared you? And if they scare you, then that represents your phobia, right?”
“No, I didn’t identify with him. There was one week where he and I went out and had a beer after the group. But we weren’t friends or anything like that.”
“And what were your thoughts on Janice Saunders?”
“I didn’t realty know her that well. I don’t even know if she ever revealed to the group what it was she was afraid of. Not while I was there anyway.”
“And what about you?” Avery asked. “Do you recall a moment in your life when you first became aware of your fears?”
He shook his head and, unless she was imagining it, Avery was pretty sure there was a flicker of fear that came over his face. When he looked to her, she still saw it. For some reason, directing the conversation back to his own fears was setting him off.
“I don’t know. Started when I was a kid I guess. But no…there was never any one moment.”
“You seemed a little frightened for a while when you answered the door,” Kellaway said. “Was that because you thought Delores Moon might have decided to call the cops on you after all?”
“No,” he said. “I’m always like that.” He seemed even more anxious now, squirming slightly in his chair. It was almost like watching him morph into something else—like watching a man start the transition into becoming a werewolf.
“Like what?” Avery asked.
“A knock on the door. A telephone call. You never know who it is, you know? You never know why they might be there. This world sucks, you know? People can be mean for no reason.”
“So the uncertainty of a knock on the door scares you?”
Dan frowned and nodded. He seemed to be trying to push himself back into the armchair, visibly uncomfortable now.
“I…I need to ask you to leave now,” he said. “It’s coming again and it’s not good. It’s never good…”
“What’s coming?” Avery asked.
“I shouldn’t have let you in. I knew it was a bad idea and…”
“Dan, it’s okay,” Avery said, lowering her voice and trying to stay as consistent and non-threatening as she could. “We just need to know if—”
“Are you afraid of anything, Detective?” he asked, leering at Avery. She saw where he was beginning to sweat and for the first time, Avery started to grow nervous. She was nowhere near a psychiatrist and she was afraid she might have pushed Dan a little too far without knowing it.
“I am,” she said.
“What is it?”
Losing my daughter, she thought but kept it to herself.
He smiled nervously at her. “See…not so fun to talk about what scares you, is it? I don’t know what you want, but please…leave.”
“Mr. Hudson,” Avery said. “We can not only help you with what you’re going through with your fear, but you might even be able to help us find a killer.”
“A killer?” he said, stark terror now entering his voice. He said it as if the killer might very well be hiding somewhere in his house. Avery saw something like lunacy in his eyes and was pretty sure she had inadvertently pushed him over some sort of line.
That’s when she saw why he had been squirming so much. He hadn’t only been pushing himself into the chair as a way to symbolically retreat from the conversation; his hand had been reaching for something.
With a catlike reflex, Dan came up with a handgun. All Avery saw was a flash of black, moving upward. Dan screamed as he brought it up.
Then Avery saw another flash. It was Kellaway, launching herself forward. She collided with Dan and the chair at just about the same moment Dan pulled the trigger. Avery’s hand went for her Glock but it was impulse only. As she hit the ground for cover, she was fairly certain she heard the whir of Dan’s shot go sailing by her head, missing her by no less than two inches.
From the floor, Avery watched as the armchair, Kellaway, and Dan Hudson all went rocking back to the floor. Dan cried out in absolute horror, his feet kicking in the air while Kellaway expertly wrapped herself around him, applying a rear-naked choke.
Avery got to her feet and went to assist. She felt adrenaline thrumming through her body, her nerves electric. I almost just died, she thought. And I should have seen him going for that gun. I missed it…and he almost killed me as a result.
Together, Avery and Kellaway cuffed Dan and got him to his feet. He was crying a series of apologies as they led him out of his house.
“Thank you,” Avery whispered to Kellaway after they had secured Dan in the back of the car.
“Of course,” Kellaway said. “No problem.”
“No…really. Kellaway, you saved my life back there.”
For some reason, saying this out loud brought a sting of tears to her eyes. It also brought back the memory of coming one second away from blowing her own brains out before being interrupted by Howard Randall’s package.
“Well, just keep in mind for the future,” Kellaway said, doing her best to play down the heroics. “I’m sure if we work together after this, you’ll have the chance to repay the favor.”
Avery gave a lazy nod of her head, still trying to figure out why she was so struck by the realization that her life could have easily ended two minutes ago. It hadn’t been the first close call in her career—not by a long shot.