Don't Go Home Before Seven

Three years of fishing. Three years without a single real catch. As I was about to pack up my rod that evening, a homeless man by the river suddenly spoke. "Buddy, you've been dumping bait in here for three years. Spent a fortune, haven't you?" I laughed. "A few thousand dollars, easy." He nodded. "You've been feeding all of us." I figured the guy was out of his mind. Then he stared straight at me. "Your wife's cheating on you. And if you go home before seven tonight, you'll die." I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my rod into the river. "Bullshit. My wife treats me like a king. Who are you to tell me when I can go home?" He sighed. "You kept all of us alive for three years. I'll save you once. Then we're even." With that, he vanished. At the exact same moment, my fishing float plunged beneath the surface. On the end of my line was a thirty-five-pound fish. Chapter 1 My fishing rod suddenly dipped so hard it nearly yanked me into the river. The tip bent into a horseshoe. Line screamed off the reel. I clamped both hands around the rod and shouted, "Marty! Get over here!" Marty, who was night fishing a little farther down the bank, came running. "You hook a monster?" "Do I look like I get this excited over a minnow?" "Caleb, you've been skunked for three years. You get excited when your hook snags a rock." I didn't have time to argue. Whatever was on the end of my line was charging back and forth like it had a personal grudge. My arms burned. My boots sank into the mud. My phone buzzed. I ignored it. Two minutes later, it buzzed again. "Eyes on the water!" Marty yelled. "That's a big one!" Gritting my teeth, I worked the reel. After more than twenty minutes of fighting, the fish finally broke the surface. Its back was almost black, with a bluish sheen, and it was as wide as a garbage-can lid. One swipe of its tail sent river water straight into my face. Marty got the landing net under it and hauled it onto the bank. Every fisherman within shouting distance came over. "That's gotta be thirty-five pounds!" "Captain Skunk finally caught something?" Somebody brought a digital scale. Thirty-five pounds. Right on the nose. I hugged that enormous fish to my chest and grinned until my cheeks ached. "Pictures! Come on, take pictures! I've waited three years for this!" Camera flashes lit up the riverbank. The fish opened and closed its mouth. Its dark, glossy eyes stared straight at me. For some reason, I thought of the homeless man I'd met earlier. *You've been feeding all of us.* A chill crawled down my spine. "Cold?" Marty asked. I gave him a stupid grin. "Just excited." That was when I finally checked my phone. Three texts, all from Claire Holden, the wife of my next-door neighbor, Bryce. 6:33 p.m.: "Caleb, your wife isn't home. I'm at your place." 6:35 p.m.: "You've been sleeping with me all this time. You can't just dump me!" 6:38 p.m.: "You got angry and stabbed me. I won't hold it against you. I just want you to come back..." I stared at the screen for two seconds, then burst out laughing. "What's funny?" Marty asked. I showed him the phone. "Scammers are writing whole crime dramas now." Marty didn't laugh. "Who's that?" "Beats me. Some scammer, probably." I sounded casual, but my thumb stayed on the screen. Another text arrived. 6:41 p.m.: "I'm bleeding so much. Why haven't you called an ambulance? Are you really going to let me die?" My smile faded. Then came another. "Fine. I give up too. I won't call for help. I'll die, and it'll be your fault." My stomach tightened. "Caleb," Marty said, "maybe call the police." "About what? I don't even recognize this number." I hoisted the fish back into my arms. "I haven't even finished showing this beauty off." Right then, my wife called. I answered, still laughing. "Lauren! Guess what I caught!" A beat of silence. "A thirty-five-pound fish?" I blinked. "How'd you know?" She laughed softly. "Didn't you just post it in your fishing group chat? I saw it." Then I remembered Marty had already posted the pictures. "Pretty incredible, right?" "It really is." Her voice was warm and gentle. "Honey, I'm not coming home tonight. Mom isn't feeling well, so I'm going to stay with her." Chapter 2 "Is it serious?" "No, just her usual thing. I just don't want her to be alone." "Want me to come pick you up later?" "No, go straight home." She paused, her tone growing even softer. "You've been fishing all day. Don't stay out in the cold. Go home, shower, and get some rest." Warmth spread through my chest. See? That was my wife. That homeless guy had claimed she was cheating on me. What a joke. "Oh, by the way," I said, "somebody's sending me these ridiculous texts. Says I stabbed her. Sounds almost believable." Lauren went quiet. "What kind of texts?" "Probably a scam. Who knows?" "There are so many scams these days. Don't click any links, and definitely don't reply. Get home soon, okay? Call me when you're inside so I know you're safe." It was such a normal thing for her to say that the last trace of unease disappeared. "Sure. Leaving now." I hung up and pocketed the phone. Marty studied me. "You're really ignoring those messages?" "What else am I supposed to do with scam texts?" "And your wife?" "Staying with her mom, Diane." He was quiet for a moment. "Something about tonight feels wrong, Caleb." I hugged my fish and laughed. "What's wrong? Thirty-five pounds! This is the greatest night of my life." I said I was going home. I didn't. After three years of coming home empty-handed, I'd finally caught a monster. If I didn't show the entire town, what had I wasted all that bait money for? My first stop was the tackle shop. Gus, who owned the place, nearly had his eyes pop out of his head when he saw the fish. "You caught that?" "Obviously." "Where'd you buy it?" "Wow. That's just cruel." Everyone in the shop crowded around for pictures. I told them about what had happened at the river. "There was this homeless guy on the bank. Said I'd been feeding all of them for three years and he owed me a favor. Soon as he disappeared, I hooked this thing." Gus laughed. "What, the fish turned into a man to repay you?" "You never know." I patted its broad back. It barely moved. Just watched me with those unnervingly dark eyes. My phone buzzed again. Claire again. 6:53 p.m.: "Caleb, I can't hold on much longer." 6:55 p.m.: "I've called the police." 6:58 p.m.: "Even if I die, I'll never let you get away with this." After that, nothing. I stared at the screen. For the first time, those messages made my skin crawl. Then Gus raised his phone and called, "Caleb! Look over here!" Without thinking, I scooped up the fish and flashed another huge grin. Click. In the picture, I looked like the happiest idiot alive. "Shouldn't you get home?" Gus asked. "Won't your wife chew you out?" I thought about Lauren's sweet voice and relaxed all over again. "She adores me." Everybody laughed. Beside me, Marty muttered, "Quit joking around. What if those texts are real?" I waved him off. "If it's real, the police can call me. Those messages are obviously meant to scare me." Weighed again at the tackle shop, the fish came in at thirty-five point four pounds. Gus insisted the first scale must have been off. Delighted, I took another picture and posted it online. *Official second weigh-in: 35.4 pounds. Captain Skunk is officially retired.* Lauren called again. "Honey, you're still not home?" "Almost." "Don't stay out too late. I'm not there, so be careful getting home alone." "I will." "Call when you get in." "Promise." Chapter 3 I barely made it out of the tackle shop before a traffic officer waved me down. The fish was strapped across the back of my electric bike, its tail sticking so far out it might as well have been a flag. Officer Brennan looked at me. Then at the fish. "Unsafe load." I nodded eagerly. "Fair enough. Ticket me." He looked startled. The tag on his chest read BRENNAN. I pulled out my phone and paid the fine without a single complaint. Before leaving, I even asked, "Officer Brennan, any chance you could take a picture of me with the fish?" His expression was priceless. But he took my phone. I stood beneath a streetlight, hugging my catch. Its tail hung toward the ground, dripping water onto the pavement. Officer Brennan took the picture. "Hey, what time is it?" I asked. He checked his body camera display. "Seven fifty-eight." I beamed. "Seven fifty-eight. The moment Captain Skunk became a legend." He frowned. "Go home. Stop holding up traffic." At 8:13, I rolled up to a roadside barbecue stand. Darlene, who ran it, spotted me immediately. "Caleb! Look at the size of that thing!" I slammed on the brakes. "Thirty-five point four pounds!" She pointed at the tail. "It's about to sweep everything off my table!" Customers at the nearby tables cracked up. I posed with the fish for a video. "When did you catch it?" someone asked. "A little after six." "And you're only getting home now?" "A trophy like this deserves a parade!" Everyone laughed again. So did I. Halfway through my laugh, my phone rang. Unknown number. Local area code. I answered, and a man spoke. "Hello, am I speaking to Caleb Voss? This is Officer Daniels with Southside Police." The moment I heard "police," I burst out laughing. "Wow. You people really commit to the act, huh?" Silence. "Excuse me?" "The scam. Nice touch." "Sir, this isn't a scam. We've received a report that someone was injured inside your home. We need to confirm your location." I laughed harder. "Let me guess. Next you'll say I'm wanted for money laundering and tell me to transfer money to some secure account." His voice hardened. "Mr. Voss, this is serious. Where are you right now?" "Fishing." "Your exact location, please." "What, you want to see the thirty-five-pound fish I caught?" The barbecue customers who could hear me started laughing. I lifted the phone. "Buddy, get a better . Somebody's been texting me all evening saying I stabbed her, and now you're calling from the police station. You planning a whole TV series?" "Mr. Voss, do not hang up." I hung up. "Who was that?" Darlene asked. "Scammer." "They've got some nerve these days." "Tell me about it." I put my phone away, feeling rather proud of myself. Two minutes later, the same number called. I ignored it. On the third attempt, I blocked it. Then Lauren rang. There was an edge of urgency in her voice. "Honey, you're still not home?" "Just got another scam call." "A scam?" "Guy said he was a cop. Claimed somebody was hurt in our apartment." A half-second silence. Then her voice turned gentle again. "Don't scare me like that." "It's fake." "Still, could you hurry home and check? I'm not there, and now I'm worried." "Don't be. I'm going right now." "Take it slow on your bike, okay?" "I will." "Call as soon as you get home." My wife was so good to me. She was just too easily frightened, especially by the thought of scammers targeting me. After hanging up, I asked Darlene to take one last photo. There I was, standing beneath the stand's glowing sign, hugging my enormous fish and grinning wide enough to show every tooth. Chapter 4 I finally reached our apartment complex at 8:53 p.m. Hank, the security guard, took one look at the fish and lit up. "Caleb! Hit the jackpot?" I stopped immediately. "Hank, how'd you know it weighs thirty-five pounds?" "Oh, shut up. You just can't stop showing that thing off, can you?" He insisted on taking a picture with me. I stood beside the gatehouse, holding up the fish and giving a big thumbs-up. "Why so late?" he asked. "Victory tour." "Where's your wife? Didn't come home with you?" "She's at her mother's." Hank nodded. "Now that you mention it, she left earlier. Bryce from next door took off not long afterward, too. Looked like he was in an awful hurry." "He always gets weird around me. No idea what his problem is." Hank gave me a long look and sighed. "You really don't worry about much, do you?" I was heading toward my building when a delivery driver came out and almost collided with the fish's tail. "Whoa, man. That's a monster." "Just caught it." "Mr. Voss? Sixth floor?" "That's me." He checked his phone. "Somebody ordered medical supplies for your place. No one answered the door, so I left the bag outside." "What supplies?" "Gauze. Antiseptic. Stuff to stop bleeding." Something tightened in my chest. "Who ordered it?" "Think the number ended with the same digits as your wife's." He looked at the order again. "Delivery note says, 'Just leave it by the door.'" Lauren was easily frightened. Maybe hearing me talk about those bloody scam messages had scared her enough to order first-aid supplies. Inside, the building was unnaturally quiet. The second-floor light was burned out, leaving the stairwell pitch-black. Everything felt a little off. On the fifth floor, I spotted a dark reddish patch on the ground. Blood? I stopped, then glanced at the tub carrying the fish. Water was dripping from its rim. Relieved, I exhaled. "So that's you leaking." The fish suddenly slapped its tail against the tub. Smack! I jumped. "Settle down." Finally, the sixth floor. The tile in front of our apartment was suspiciously spotless, as though somebody had just mopped it. The door handle was still wet. Beside the door sat a shopping bag of gauze, antiseptic, and bandages. Untouched. The door to Bryce and Claire's apartment stood slightly ajar. Not a sound came from inside. I was reaching for my keys when Lauren called again. "Honey, are you there?" "Right outside our door." She seemed to breathe easier. "Good. I'm glad." "When are you coming back?" "I'm not sure yet. Might be late." "Okay." "Wash your hands as soon as you go in. And stop looking at those horrible scam messages. People will say anything now. I don't want you getting upset." Her voice was so quiet it sounded as if she might cry. "Caleb, please be safe while I'm gone." My heart softened. "Of course. What could possibly happen to me?" The call ended. I turned the handle. Unlocked. No lights were on. The curtains were pulled tight. The living room was swallowed in darkness. I stepped over the threshold and caught a strong, metallic smell. Not fish. I'd been fishing for three years. I knew the difference. It was blood. "Lauren?" I called her name automatically, then remembered she wasn't supposed to be there. I fumbled for the switch. Light flooded the apartment. A dark red smear streaked across the entryway tile. The coffee table lay overturned in the middle of the living room, glass scattered everywhere. A woman lay facedown beside the couch. Long hair spilled across her cheek. Her pale dress was soaked with blood. A red string bracelet circled one wrist. Claire Holden. Bryce's wife. My mind went blank. The fish slipped from my arms and hit the floor with a heavy thud. Claire's eyes were wide open. She was dead. The fish gave one violent slap of its tail. Bloody water splashed all over me. The next second, footsteps thundered up the hall. Several officers charged inside. "Police!" Before I could get a word out, someone wrenched my arms behind my back and slammed me onto the floor. My cheek pressed against the cold tile. Handcuffs clicked around my wrists. "Don't move!" a voice barked above me.