Penny clapped her hands together, “Well that’s that then. You saw something that wasn’t there, decided to go home and get your beauty sleep and you’re cured.”
Smiling, I swallowed hard, “Yes something like that. Is there anything else that I can help you with?”
“What kind of system do you run here, Patrick? Does she flash those long black lashes, say some bullshit and get a pass?” Turning to me she continued, “Why are you lying to me? I can see that you’re hiding something. I’m not sure what but it’s big. We checked that footage again but as you said, there was nothing there, and yet there is footage of you later that evening going out alone to the Pink Serpentine to check it out. That was a bold move, especially after dark in that part of the community.”
Penny’s reference to the Pink Serpentine shook me because it was a dangerous area riddled with crime including prostitution, street violence and the illegal sale of Elsyn. Most respectable citizens both mortals and preters stayed clear of the area especially after dark although I had visited it more frequently than I should have in pursuit of organic Elsyn. The Pink Serpentine was so named after its twisting streets and multiple storefronts that displayed pink neon snakes, signaling the availability of illegal goods including Elsyn. Determined to remain calm, I struggled to keep my right leg from shaking under the table.
After a few seconds of silence, Penny exhaled intentionally loud as if to prove a point. “You want me to believe that you were bored, so you went for a walk in the Pink Serpentine in the middle of the night just for kicks.” Penny wagged her finger, “See I think you’re one of the best programmers in this building, no disrespect Patrick. And if you wanted to make something disappear you could, what did you see and why make a fuss over it. Were you trying to shift the blame or what game are you playing. On the off chance that the footage had been tampered with, I checked it and found that sixteen seconds are missing. At first, I thought you went out there to find something valuable that you could steal without anyone knowing but when I watched the footage of you I think you were looking for someone, not something.”
In one horrifying moment, I realized that Penny had seen footage of me in the Pink Serpentine night, what else had she seen? Taking a deep breath, I responded, “As I stated, I was tired, and I thought that I saw something unusual, but it was only my imagination. I didn’t bring up the trip to the Pink Serpentine because it had nothing to do with work and as far as the missing sixteen seconds, I don’t know anything about it. I’m not skilled enough to make something like that happen. I only work here a few shifts a week as a student intern. To pull something like that off, you’d need to be at least managerial level. I’m sorry, are we done here? I’d like to return to work.” Standing up, I was concerned that I was being disrespectful but keeping this job was the least of my worries.
Penny waved her hand dismissing me. I turned to walk towards the door and upon opening it; she spoke, “Just one more thing.”
Stopping and partially turning around, “Yes is there something else I can help you with?”
“I’m sure you heard about the dead body on the Northern Shore. Don’t take any more late-night walks; it isn’t safe for a girl like you. Who knows what kind of trouble you could find yourself in,” Penny glared at me.
Leaving Patrick’s office, I feared that I had entered into a deadly game with Penny. There was no way she worked for this company. No, she was some kind of a cop, and she was fishing for something, I just wasn’t sure what. Back at my desk, I stared at my monitor for the next five minutes trying to calm a simmering migraine about to explode in my head.
CHAPTER FOUR
Almost twenty-four hours had passed since my meeting with Penny, and so far, I had managed to conceal my nervousness beneath a veneer of calmness, but the dread and fear could break through at any moment. It was impossible to figure out who Penny was or how much she knew but the possibility of finding Ophelia again kept me from totally freaking out. I’m not sure how I got through my shift at the surveillance center or my classes at the academy, but with a little Elsyn from my dwindling private stash, somehow I managed it.
When I got home last night, I ate cold pizza alone in the kitchen and attempted to complete my school assignments before crawling back into bed. I thought about telling Weylin about Penny but he wasn’t home yet, and besides, I didn’t want to trouble him with more worry.
Sleep offered me no relief. Instead, a series of incoherent dreams repeatedly woke me during the night leaving me tired and anxious.
Stretching beneath the covers, I blew a stray strand of hair from my eyes and stared at the picture of an orange cat above my bed looking down at me. Below the picture the words, ‘You’re purr-fect’ were scrawled in an elaborate script. Ironically, the poster reminded me that I was far from perfect. I found my lavender eyes freakish but treasured the tangible connection to Meadow. When I was younger, I asked Meadow if she had named me Violet because of the color of my eyes. I remember her smiling at me as she touched the tip of my nose with her index finger, “No, silly. You were named after my sister, whose name was also Violet. She was very special and very pretty like you, but I lost her a long time ago. I searched for her for many years but she was gone, and I was sad. Then you were born, and I was happy again.”
Returning to the present, I slipped into the black silk robe that mom had given me for my sixteenth birthday. It was beautiful with delicate red roses running across the back and down the front panel. Mom had it specially made for me, and I loved it, but this morning I threw it on without a thought.
I took a deep breath before shuffling to the kitchen where coffee, the fuel of life was kept. My mom was already dressed for work and busy cooking breakfast for us that she would place in the oven’s stay warm drawer, capable of maintaining the food’s proper temperature for up to 24 hours. This was her morning ritual ever since we had lost Ophelia. Many things about mom had changed since Ophelia disappeared. She buried her grief in work, work and more work. She spent countless hours at her office downtown working as an executive for a military research organization, but the work didn’t stop when she came home. Mom often tried to talk to me about it, but it was difficult to follow her stories without fully understanding the technology or knowing the people involved.
When she wasn’t working, she tried hard to be some kind of supermom with her cooking, cleaning and nonstop advice. Before Ophelia had gone missing, mom had been a great advocate of teaching us self-reliance, but since the disappearance, mom had become super protective frequently acting as though Weylin and I were toddlers instead of teens. Weylin didn’t seem to mind, but sometimes it got under my skin, and I would push back and argue. I always felt bad afterward because although she was smothering me, I knew that she couldn’t help herself. I loved my mom, but there were days when I was grateful for the long hours that she spent at the office.
Standing there dressed for work in a tan linen suit with a white blouse mom’s diamond pendant caught the morning sun that shone through the kitchen window. Mom had an amazing wardrobe and some beautiful jewelry, but I thought that jeans and a sweatshirt suited her best. Smiling, she held her coffee mug as she slid onto one of the island stools, “Good morning, Sleepyhead. Are you feeling okay?”
“Sure, I’m fine.” I was anything but fine, but I did not intend to talk about it.
“It’s just that you have been sleeping a lot lately and I heard you walking around last night. Perhaps we should make an appointment and get you checked out. Just to be sure that nothing is wrong.”
“I’m fine, really. You worry too much.”
“Okay, we’ll talk about it later.”
Generally, when mom said that we would talk about something later, it meant that she had decided upon a course of action. In this case, I suspected that she might have already scheduled an appointment for me for a wellness scan. Ordinarily, I would have continued to press the case that I was in no need of medical diagnosis or treatment but I just didn’t have t
he energy today. For a brief second, I even considered telling her about Ophelia but instead, I mumbled, “I need fuel.”
Sitting beside her on the stainless steel counter was a fresh, steaming mug of coffee, “I know,” she said sliding the coffee over towards me.
Draining her cup, she asked, “Where’s Weylin? She peeked down the hallway towards our rooms, “Weylin! It’s time to get up,” she shouted, but when her call was met with silence she followed up with, “Weylin, don’t make me come in there.”
I could hear the mumblings coming from his room.
Turning her attention back to me, she continued, “I’m going to be late tonight, but there’s a casserole ready in the stay warm tray and I’ve left some money on the counter should you need anything.” Preparing to leave, she paused to give me a quick hug and then examining my hair, she added, “Also, you might want to run a comb through it or do something about that before you leave for school.”
Picking up my coffee, I sipped it, but it was smolderingly hot and burnt my lips. Mom must have forgotten to readjust the temperature setting on the coffee master. Waving goodbye, she opened the door but stopped as though listening for something, “Weylin, get out of bed now!” The door slammed behind her, and I watched her stop and chat briefly with one of our mortal neighbors who had just returned from abroad before walking towards her car. I sometimes wondered if there was anyone in our district, that mom didn’t know.
Watching her drive off, it struck me that there was nothing special about the morning routine that we had performed hundreds of times. Every morning was extraordinarily ordinary but somehow today felt different although it certainly wasn’t the first time that mom had fussed over me or that I had kept something important from her. No, today the stakes were higher. Instead of sipping coffee wondering what to eat for breakfast or worrying about an upcoming exam, I was upset about finding Ophelia and terrified that I would be arrested for murder.
Initially, I was lost in thought when Weylin entered the kitchen, grabbed a mug and programmed his coffee before removing his breakfast from the stay warm tray. Weylin took great pride in his appearance, but this morning his hair was jutting out in different directions. Noticing the burnt edges of a hole in his shirt, I figured that he had had another nightmare. That was nothing new; Weylin’s preter ability to generate heat sometimes surfaced when he was troubled by dreams except that this morning the shirt he was wearing wasn’t his. In fact, I think it was a girl’s shirt. It was light blue with a white stripe across the neckline, and it looked vaguely familiar.
“What are you wearing?” I asked.
“Damn it, I knew it felt weird. I must have switched shirts with Jessie after work.” I could sense him hiding something as if he didn’t want me to know. “Yeah, cause I went over to Jessie’s and spilled something on my shirt, so she offered to wash it, but when I was leaving, I must have taken the wrong one,” Weylin attempted to avoid eye contact.
He was lying. It bothered me that while he was out having fun, I was home sick with worry. “Well while you were out last night doing God knows what I was here worrying how to keep us out of prison or the executioner’s needle.” I didn’t mean to sound like a total bitch, but I know I did. Putting my hand in the air, I mumbled, “I’m sorry. You know that I’m not a morning person.” I considered telling him about Penny, but I was too upset and left the kitchen.
Walking back into my room, I was angrier with myself than with Weylin. Realizing that perhaps I had been using too much Elsyn, I determined to give it up until this whole situation with Penny was resolved. Besides with Penny watching my every step, I couldn’t exactly pop over to the Pink Serpentine and pick up more Elsyn, and even if I did see Elsyn at the cave, I certainly wasn’t going back there.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized that mom was right about one thing. I desperately needed to do something about my hair. Picking up the comb from my nightstand, I brushed it out and ‘fluffed it up’ as Ophelia used to say. The shock of discovering that Ophelia was alive and then losing her again so quickly hit me all over again. Even though I wasn’t religious, I prayed anyway, hoping that she was okay, hiding out somewhere. There were so many competing beliefs in the Domain ranging from a personal caring creator to some divine system of balance; I figured that maybe one of them was real. I had so many questions the night she showed up, but I completely blanked. In hindsight, getting some answers would have been immensely useful.
Removing the shirt I slept in, I searched my closet for a clean uniform blouse. I picked out one with the fewest wrinkles and held it up against my skin estimating how many of the creases my uniform blazer would conceal.
I had just slipped on my uniform when I heard a knock on the door and Weylin entered my room. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that you were changing. I wanted to talk, but I can come back.”
“No, it’s okay. Look, I’m sorry that I was so bitchy in the kitchen. I have a lot on my mind, but that’s no excuse. Now, tell me, what’s going on.”
Weylin looked at me, “Generally, I think that I’m pretty good at handling things, but I’m having a hard time with everything that’s happening. That’s why I went over to Jessie’s last night. I guess I was trying to take my mind off my problems, but it didn’t work. Jessie kept asking me what was wrong but I couldn’t tell her. She’s been my best friend since we were kids and not telling her felt like lying. I was in such a hurry to leave, that’s how I grabbed her shirt instead of mine. I know that we keep saying that all we have to do is pretend everything is fine but it really isn’t. I’m struggling, and you’re the only person that I can talk to about this. Yesterday, a woman came to see me asking questions about you.”
My heart suddenly fluttered, “Stop. Was her name Penny?”
Weylin wrinkled his brow, “Yes, I mean, I think so. She completely caught me off guard and started asking random questions about you, claiming that it had to do with work or something.”
Clenching my fists, “I’m going to need you to be absolutely sure about what you say next. Try hard to remember. Are you sure that her name was Penny and exactly what questions was she asking?”
Weylin looked towards the ceiling trying to remember, “Yes, I’m fairly confident it was. She was just asking weird questions about your life and habits, that sort of stuff,” Weylin seemed to sense my growing concern, “What aren’t you telling me? What’s the matter?”
I sat down on the bed, “Damn.” Taking a deep breath, I tried to remain calm, “That woman, Penny, is not from my work. I’m not sure who she is, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she is looking into me.”
Weylin sat down beside me, “Do you think she is a detective or something?”
“I’m really uncertain, but she didn’t come off as a person of authority. She was seedier or something. Did she ask any questions directly about the other night?” Leaning against the bedpost, I anxiously awaited his answer.
Shaking his head no, “Nah, nothing related to the murder or the other night. It was more like personal questions about you and your life. I shut it down quickly and insisted that if she wanted to know more, she would have to ask you directly, but I didn’t realize that this was a thing. I’ve been assuming it was related to your work. Here I have been complaining while you’ve been going through this. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Rolling my shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“We are in this together, and I’m starting to get the distinct impression that this isn’t anywhere close to being over. We need to have complete transparency with each other if we’re going to get through this.” Weylin stood up from the bed and squeezed my hand.
Sitting up straight, “In the spirit of absolute transparency I’m going to find Ophelia. If she is out there, I want to make sure that she is okay and safe.”
“If we are going to do this we need to be careful. If this woman is onto us, we will be under a microscope, and every move from this point forward could
get us caught in someone else’s game. That being said I have your back and if Ophelia is out there, I want to help you find her.”
“We are going to go back to the scene of the crime. Maybe Ophelia left a clue there that only you and I would understand.”
Weylin tapped his foot, “That’s a dangerous idea. Physically being there is risky but what if I had a way for us to go there without having to set foot in the actual location. Mom’s working on the immersive sensory VR drone at work. How difficult would it be to borrow one, visit the locale and then wipe the drive clean eliminating any virtual footprints we leave behind,” Weylin smiled.
“That is a brilliant idea,” I agreed, nodding at Weylin. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
CHAPTER FIVE
The irony of stealing or borrowing the VR equipment wasn’t lost on me. In order to clear ourselves of one crime, we had to commit another. Our neighborhood wasn’t far from the downtown area of the city, but unless something important was happening, I rarely went there. Kids from the academy often bragged about getting drunk and partying in the Downtown District of Fairhaven as the rules were less stringent there, but drinking wasn’t really my thing.
Fairhaven’s skyline was impressive. By day, the glass and steel buildings reflected blue skies and drifting white clouds; by night, the structures transformed into sapphire monoliths imbedded with celestial diamonds. After the sun sets each day, blue and white lights sparkled within the trees that lined Downtown District’s streets and avenues. Mom’s office complex was impressive with its Corinthian columns and ornate archways, but it paled in comparison with its neighbor, Griff Glass, the newly constructed preter headquarters that Counselor Griffen had designed and christened after himself.
The Wilted Flower District Page 3