The Wilted Flower District

by Martin Niewood

  “I have no idea, but I suspect that it was a preter with a pretty aggressive ability.”

  “A preter? I can’t believe that any preter would be that savage but if you’re right and a preter did kill him, all the more reason for the police to suspect us, especially since there is probably footage of us near Woodburn Forest last night.”

  “Thousands of preters are caught on those same cameras every day. Dozens of preters live in that apartment complex on the edge of Woodburn Forest. There is no possible way that anyone will find out we were at that crime scene last night. It was in the middle of nowhere. Besides, there are no cameras at the Northern Shore.”

  “I guess so but remember we weren’t thinking clearly. I don’t know what but I’m sure we missed things. We aren’t killers; we don’t know what we’re doing,” I snapped back.

  “We’re on the same side here. I was only trying to calm you down because we can’t look suspicious. When you’re ready to have a real conversation, let me know. There are some things we seriously need to talk about in case anyone did see us,” he said, letting go of my arm.

  “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you freaking out?” I asked.

  “Because that’s exactly how mistakes are made,” he replied.

  Weylin was right I needed to relax and think clearly if we wanted to get through this nightmare unscathed. “Maybe you’re right. Should we do anything? Perhaps living in denial is the best case for us. There doesn’t seem to be any physical evidence or the authorities would have been here already.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” Weylin stepped back pushing his hair away from his forehead, “Wait a minute, what if we were not alone last night?”

  “I mean it’s possible that someone saw us, but I doubt they would’ve followed us home.”

  Weylin shook his head, “No, that’s not what I mean. What if we weren’t alone when we found the body? Whoever the victim was, he was clearly murdered. At first, I assumed that the body had been dumped but what if the killer wasn’t finished with it. This morning, they reported that the body was found near a freshly dug grave. Why would the killer go through the trouble of digging a hole to bury the body then do nothing with it?”

  “Unless we interrupted the murderer,” I sat down on my bed. “You mean the killer was watching us and we provided a perfect patsy for him. All he had to do was anonymously report a killing, giving a description of us, leading the authorities towards us and away from him.” A cold shiver ran through my body.

  “I don’t know about all that, I mean yes it does seem like we interrupted the killer, but even if he was there, he wouldn’t report the crime that he just committed. This didn’t seem to be a crime of passion. It was more like some revenge killing; that body was mutilated.” Weylin took a deep breath and sat next to me on the bed. “Do you think he followed us back here?”

  “If the killer followed us back I doubt we would be having this conversation. There would be three dead bodies instead of one. In fact, why wouldn’t he have attacked us when we were in the middle of nowhere?” Biting my knuckles, each question was a new parasite burrowing its way into my gut and sapping my energy.

  “I don’t know; maybe he intends to wait until we are less suspecting and make us disappear.” Weylin paused and continued, “I don’t know—I’m not a god damn killer. All I’m pointing out is that we should be ready for anything.”

  For all of the control in Weylin’s voice, I saw that his hands were shaking and I placed mine onto his, “I don’t think the killer would follow us back here but let’s agree to be on our guard either way. As you said, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared for any situation. We are going to get through this.” I wasn’t sure if I believed my own words, but I knew that we needed to stand together.

  Weylin turned to face me. “Where was Ophelia? We went to the correct location, right?”

  That was the question: where was Ophelia? I was one hundred percent sure that we followed her directions exactly, so why didn’t she show? Was she okay? Did something happen to her? Did she stumble upon the scene first? A part of me worried that I had dreamt the whole thing, but no, I wasn’t dreaming.

  It bothered me that I had to keep it from mom after everything she had done for me. It was better that mom didn’t know anything about this in case Weylin and I were caught up in this horrific murder. Besides, mom had been through so much when Ophelia disappeared all those years ago. What if we never found her? Mom would have to go through losing her daughter all over again. Still, I was holding a secret that was life changing for her. Her only daughter, Ophelia, is alive and out there somewhere and the place we were to meet her had become the scene of a brutal and violent murder. There was something off about that place — that long gray grass and the Elsyn, what was it doing out there?

  “Breakfast is ready,” mom shouted from the kitchen.

  Turning to Weylin, I asked the question I had refused to consider all night, “Do you think it’s possible that Ophelia had anything to do with the murder?” Glancing over at Weylin, he stared back at me, but before he could answer, there was a loud knock at the front door.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “It’s for you, Violet,” mom called from the hallway.

  Looking down the short corridor, I drew a sigh of relief once I recognized the visitor. After a quick glance in the mirror, I tried to smooth the tangles from my hair, but it was useless. Grabbing my robe from the back of my door, I threw it on as I hurried down the hallway. “Hey Noah, what are you doing here?” I asked as I peeked around the half-opened door to our apartment.

  Fidgeting with the knot in his school tie, Noah’s six foot, one inch athletic form stood in the doorway. His dark hair, parted on the right, matched his warm brown eyes that sat above high cheekbones and flawless skin. “I’m sorry to bother you so early, but I wanted to get this back to you.” Holding out a gold locket, he continued, “I was worried that I might not run into you today as I have class and I thought you might be looking for this. I know you wear it all the time. You dropped it yesterday on the sidewalk when you rushed out of work. I tried to get your attention, but you seemed distracted.”

  Instinctively touching my hand to my throat, I reached out for the neckless. Holding it tightly, “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this locket means to me. How did you know where I lived?”

  “I didn’t. I asked Deena, and she told me,” he responded while twisting a large ring that bore the family crest.

  Watching Noah, I could see that he was nervous. I wondered if he had another motive for stopping by. “Thank you again. It was so sweet of you to return the locket.”

  “No problem. I was actually going to stop at the café down the block for coffee. Do you want to join me?”

  Glancing down at my A2B band, I realized the time. “I can’t believe it’s so late. I’d love to join you but I can’t today. Raincheck?” I asked as I tapped my band against his, “Here’s my number.”

  “No worries, I’ll catch up with you later,” a shy smile spread across his face.

  Watching him walk back to the elevators, I closed the door and opened the locket rubbing my thumb across the pictures of my biological parents, Parker Crane and Meadow Noone. I wondered what they would have done in my situation. I had spent so many years trying to make them proud of me, but after the last 24 hours, I felt nothing but shame. What was I thinking running off to meet Ophelia without telling anyone, keeping Ophelia’s appearance a secret from mom and worst of all fleeing the scene of a murder without calling the authorities? I should have handled the situation differently, but there was no point in dwelling on that now. Closing the locket, I rushed back to my room to get ready for work. Throwing on a black sweater and slacks, I picked up the locket and realized that Noah must have replaced the broken chain with a newer more expensive one. I felt worse for ditching him, especially after he went to all of this trouble.

  I had never been late for work before so arriving at 8:15 wasn’t a great
start to maintaining a facade of normalcy.

  As part of a work-study program at the academy, I worked two shifts a week at one of Fairhaven’s surveillance centers, the FSC, where I executed simple tasks such as running facial recognition matches or repositioning satellite camera angles for the authorities. The work was easy, and I enjoyed the small stipend as the money Meadow left me was locked in a trust until my 18th birthday. My mom, Ivy, was very generous but she watched where we spent any money that she gave us. Besides, there were times when you just needed a little cash.

  There were several surveillance centers in Fairhaven, but all of the Academy’s internships were at the center closest to the school and therefore within walking distance of our apartment. The exterior of the FSC building was unimpressive. At one time, it housed a financial institution with elaborate federalist style windows that had subsequently been bricked over, leaving the patchwork facade serviceable but ugly. Most of the FSC employees were able to work from home, but the student interns were required to work on site. On my way into the center, I couldn’t stop thinking about the dead body but Weylin was right, we had to act as though nothing had happened. It was difficult to push the events of yesterday from my mind because this is where it all started.

  I was checking the feed from an adjustment I had made when Ophelia’s image suddenly appeared on the screen. I tried to tell my boss, Patrick, but he wouldn’t listen and sent me home. I recognized the location from the footage, so, I decided to go and find her myself but with no luck. I returned home only to find Ophelia there, sitting on my bed, waiting for me.

  Entering the office, I noticed that as usual, about half of the workstations were empty. As I walked across the floor, I spotted Deena’s blonde hair and seeing me, she flashed a smile. She was my coworker and the happiest person in the Domain. She was a mortal and an incurable optimist but had a terrible track record with boyfriends. The men she dated were a diverse group, but they shared one characteristic — they were always out for themselves. Some were narcissists, some were criminals, and some were criminally narcissistic, but all were heartbreakers. Still, as much as I complained about the recurring romantic dramas, she was my best friend in every sense.

  Although she was two years older, we did everything together. She had the biggest heart of gold that I had ever seen. If only she had better judgment in men, it wouldn’t be broken most of the time. I could tell from her ear-to-ear smile that she was having a splendid morning. A smile that contagious only meant one thing; she had met the next love of her life. I desperately hoped this time it would stick; however, over time I had grown cynical about Deena’s relationships and suspected that it wouldn’t last.

  Deena’s workstation was crowded with pictures, inspirational magnets, and various figurines. In the center of her desk was a large picture of her parents. My area was almost barren with a single photograph of Ivy, Ophelia and Weylin and a plant that Deena had given me when I started working here. Sitting down and noticing that the plant appeared to be half-dead, I placed my right hand on one of the withered leaves and absently channeled my energies into it until it shed its decay and revived. Deena was no stranger to witnessing preter abilities for although she was mortal like her father, her mother had been a preter, but the gene didn’t pass to Deena. Several years ago, he had died unexpectedly, but Deena didn’t like to talk about it.

  Pointing to the now flourishing plant, she said, “Wow, that’s incredible and a little freaky.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “Removing her bright red glasses and swinging around in her chair to face me she asked, “On a totally different note, do you believe in angels?”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I couldn’t help but chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

  “Can’t you tell? I met the most angelic man last night at the café. Don’t worry we’ll find somebody for you too unless you’re interested in Noah ‘cause it seems that he’s interested in you,” Deena winked.

  “Noah?”

  “Yes, Noah. Don’t play cute with me. You know he’s a catch. He’s handsome, smart, sweet and being Griffen’s son doesn’t hurt either.”

  “I just never thought of Noah that way.”

  “Well, it’s time to start. How did it go this morning? Is that why you’re late? Did he ask you out?” With each question, Deena seemed to move her chair closer and closer to mine.

  “Hey,” I said tapping my desk, “he said you gave him my address.”

  Pointing with the arm of her glasses before returning them to her face, “You don’t say no to Chancellor Griffen’s son. I may not be a preter, but it’s never good to anger anyone who can melt you with his eyes. Besides, Noah likes you and who am I to interfere with young love?”

  Deena had a point about not ticking off Griffen and Noah could have gotten the address from his dad, if Deena hadn’t given it to him. “Chancellor Griffen can’t melt you,” I argued and then laughed in spite of myself.

  “Whatever! But enough about you, back to me and my angel. So anyway, this great guy comes up to me in front of everyone and says, let’s skip the tedious pickup line and get out of here.”

  “Does your angel have a name?” I asked.

  “Let’s just call him Angel for now. I know that you’re going to like him.”

  Listening to Deena, I continued to boot up my A2B screen, and all my applications popped up in front of me. The newsfeed had the image of the mutilated body front and center. The vivid memory of calling gulls and musty caverns transported me back. Determined not to panic, I willed myself to return to the conversation and tried to pick up where I left off, but Deena had completely lost me.

  “When are you going to see him again?” asking generic questions when I lost my place in Deena’s often long stories was an easy way to divert the conversation and recap the highlights.

  “We’re going out again tonight. He wants to go somewhere quiet, so we can talk without loud music and hundreds of people crammed together in a nightclub. Isn’t that romantic? He said he couldn’t wait too long before seeing me again,” Deena sighed.

  “I’m so happy for you. That’s great. I hope it goes well.” I really did wish her the best, but from the details I had already heard, I suspected that this guy wanted to go somewhere quiet so that they wouldn’t be seen. He probably had a wife or a girlfriend. I didn’t want to see Deena get hurt, so I tried to keep an open mind and convince myself that maybe this one was different.

  Turning to face the A2B, I realized that I had twenty-six messages. Panic flared within me because when I left work yesterday I had checked and it was zero. Maybe they found the video evidence of Ophelia appearing, or perhaps I freaked them out, and they thought I was insane. Either way, it was unwanted attention. Clicking on the newest message, it was from my boss setting up a meeting to talk at eight thirty. Checking the time, I recognized that was in two minutes, and I pushed against the desk and rolled back my chair.

  “Where are you off to?” Deena asked, apparently surprised by my sudden movement.

  “Patrick wants to see me.”

  “Our boss, Patrick?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “He probably just wants to tell you that you’re doing a great job.”

  Somehow, I doubted Deena’s optimism. Standing, I saw a woman dressed in black enter Patrick’s glass enclosed office. Her pale skin stood in stark contrast to her black wild and unruly hair. I debated whether I should wait until he was done speaking to the woman or if I should pop by and tell him that I could come back later. I decided to do the latter, but as I approached his office, I studied her through the glass door. Sitting there amid Patrick’s collected horde of electronic equipment, she didn’t seem like a tech person. No, there was something different about her. Something was off, but I didn’t know what. This was definitely not her environment.

  Using the handle, I opened the door, “Hey, I can come back if you’re busy, Patrick.”

  Patrick was seated at a small table in t
he corner of his office. Sipping his coffee, he responded, “No, I set this meeting at this time intentionally, Violet, please take a seat.” Dressed in a plaid shirt and brown sweater with khaki pants, he appeared relaxed as he offered me a seat by pushing a chair away from the table with his foot.

  I gestured good morning to the woman sitting across from Patrick, but she studied me like a steak ready to be devoured. “Hi, I’m Violet. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I ventured and then returning my attention to Patrick I asked, “Is there something that I can help you with?”

  “Miss Noone,” the woman interrupted, “you can help me.” She repositioned herself in the chair by bringing both knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. With her oversized jacket now covering her entire body, her head appeared to rest upon a dark volcano of leather. “Can I call you Violet?” the woman asked but before I could answer she continued, “That was a rhetorical question. Violet, my name is Penny and depending on how this conversation goes I’ll determine whether it was a pleasure to meet you or not.”

  “I had you brought here because it’s rumored that late yesterday afternoon you detected an inconsistency in the taped footage of the community from sector camera 3QSR25. Is that correct, Violet?”

  Tensing my shoulders, the direction of this questioning was starting to worry me, “Yes, at the time I believed that I may have seen an inconsistency as you put it in the footage but after a good night’s sleep I realize that fatigue may have had the better of my tired eyes.”

  Penny remained silent, tapping lightly on her left knee clicking off the seconds before responding, “Run me through the events of yesterday.”

  Glancing over at Patrick, who was staring deep into his coffee mug, I tried to determine what this woman’s deal was. She didn’t look like a detective and if there was nothing wrong with the footage, then what was this woman after. Was she just from some corporate compliance office or did she know something about my late-night rendezvous with the body? “As I said, during my shift I was verifying that the repositioning program I had executed on 3QSR25 had been successfully accomplished. I thought that I saw something unusual on the footage and alerted Patrick to the situation but it was chalked up to nothing more than fatigue. I apologize for any confusion or distraction that I created.” Staring into her eyes, I could tell she wasn’t buying it, and I was starting to panic. “I enjoy working here on days I’m not at the academy, but if you want me to resign my internship because of the incident, I completely understand.”