by Cara Bristol
Oh great. I was the special one.
Broken glass had been swept away. Cube partitions that hadn’t been sliced to ribbons had been righted, while replacements for the ones destroyed leaned up against the wall awaiting installation. Broken equipment had been removed; boxes of new computers and monitors sat on desks. A few had already been set up. Miles’ office had been put to order, looking as it had before the break-in minus the windows.
“Inside” his windowless office, Detective Orman and the forensics computer whiz kid hunched shoulder to shoulder at a conference table. I waved. Orman nodded back.
“You’ve made a lot of progress cleaning up.” I felt guilty now. Someone had tried to destroy Miles’ dream. I should have been more sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should have been here.”
“Oh, you’ve done enough. More than enough.”
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
“I don’t understand what you hoped to accomplish. Why would you do this to me?” He flung his arms outward in an encompassing gesture. “You hate me this much?” His voice cracked.
“What the hell—” My jaw dropped. He couldn’t mean—“You think I had something to do with the break-in?”
Miles clenched his fists. He looked like he was fighting tears.
Detective Orman rose from the conference table and strode over. “Where were you Saturday evening between 8:00 p.m. and midnight?”
“I was on a date. With Sixx.” I couldn’t believe they were accusing me of this! Miles and I rubbed each other the wrong way, and although he acted like an asshole a lot of the time, I respected his drive and ambition. I thought he kind of respected me. Apparently the asshole part was bigger than I’d thought.
“He’s the alien you were with the other night?” Orman tapped into an electronic notepad. “Where can I find him?”
“He lives at the IDA barracks.”
“IDA?”
“Intergalactic Dating Agency.”
“He’ll say anything she tells him to. He’ll lie for her,” Miles said.
“It’s the truth! You saw me with him!” I snapped. “We came here together, remember?”
“That doesn’t mean anything. You could have picked him up on your way over to create an alibi.”
“And I could have booked a trip to the moon, too! What the hell is wrong with you?” The unfairness of the accusation pissed me off, but I was starting to worry, too. Did I need a lawyer? Should I even be talking to these guys?
“Did anyone else see you two together?” Orman asked.
“No,” I answered automatically then amended my response. “I mean, yes. Barbara Zimbal, the owner of Barbie’s Q. We went there for dinner. Becky, our waitress. The hostess. The doorman at my apartment. We also went to the movies. I might still have the ticket stubs with the date and time.” My alibi was solid. My emotions? Not so much. My throat thickened with angry, hurt tears. I glowered so I wouldn’t cry. “How could you think I would do such a thing?”
“Believe me, you were the last person I would have suspected.”
Orman scrutinized me over the rims of his glasses. “Your thumbprint was found on the keypad entry.”
“Well, yeah, I work here.” Or used to. I had a hunch I’d been fired.
“It was found after-hours the night of the break-in.” Miles jerked his head at the security kid, his head bent over the laptop as he pretended not to listen. “He pulled the data. The system records the time and identity of everyone entering the building.
“The time stamp registered your thumbprint at 10:10 p.m. on Saturday night,” Orman said.
“Impossible. I wasn’t here. I was with Sixx.”
“How do you explain your thumbprint in the system?” Orman scratched his head, giving his best befuddled detective impression.
“I don’t know!” I lifted my splinted and wrapped right hand. “I haven’t been able to print-in since Thursday night when my hand got broken.”
“How convenient.” Miles snorted.
Anger shot from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. “Convenient? Convenient? No, it’s fucking inconvenient. You think this is for show?” I waved my big white mitt like I was swatting a swarm of flies. I grabbed a box cutter off a desk. “You don’t believe me?” I sliced through the bandages and tore them off. “Do you think I used this”—I shoved my swollen hand with its purple fingers in his face—“to gain entry?” My thumb was double-sized, a splint taped to it and the adjacent forefinger. My middle finger had escaped injury, and I was considering using it.
“You could have used your other thumb.”
“No.” The detective shook his head. “Fingerprints are unique to the individual and the respective fingers. The print on the left thumb is different from the right. You say this happened Thursday?” He shook his head. “As swollen as her thumb is, the print wouldn’t match now.”
“So, what are you saying?” Miles said.
Orman scrutinized me. “I’m going to verify when the injury occurred and check out her alibi for Saturday night, but it appears as though someone else lifted an old print and applied it to the entry pad.”
Silence gathered, dense and heavy, as the truth sank in.
Miles dropped his hand and hunched his shoulders forward. “I’m—I’m sorry…I don’t know what to say—I didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence…
“The planted evidence, you mean?” I pressed my lips together. “I’m so mad and hurt, I have no words, other than, I’m going home. I think I’m coming down with something.” I stomped for the exit.
“Moxie, wait!”
I pushed through the door, letting it slam behind me, and rushed for my car. Tears burned my eyes.
“Wait, please!” Miles grabbed my arm, spun me around.
“Leave me alone! Go find yourself another suspect.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said.
I brushed tears away with the back of my hand. I hated he could make me cry even in anger. I glowered at him. “I know it looked bad, but you didn’t have any doubt I was responsible. You bought it without question.”
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t want it to be true.” He raked a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t just the print. Other stuff has been going on, too.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Well, the break-in a few months ago. Increased hacking attempts.”
“And you thought of me. How sweet.” I glowered. “How do we know you didn’t stage the break-in yourself?”
His jaw dropped. “Why would I do that?”
“Publicity maybe? Zephyr is so exciting, people can’t wait for it. They’ll steal to get it? Sounds like a pretty good promotion to me. Build the buzz before the release?” I wouldn’t have thought Miles would do such a thing, but how would I know? He’d changed a lot since high school. The former computer game club president wasn’t the sweet kid I used to know. He’d become much more…calculating.
“That’s ridiculous!”
“No more ridiculous than you suspecting me.”
“I’ve been picking up a weird vibe from you.”
“Weird how?”
“Secretive. You’ve been arriving later, leaving earlier. I know you felt like Zephyr was your baby, and perhaps I didn’t give you fair credit.” Miles hadn’t given me due credit, but if he sensed any secretiveness, it was probably because I’d been working on T-Rex Island. However, while I might violate my employment contract, I would never vandalize his business. “Excuse me for having a life.”
Miles fidgeted. “You like this guy? That alien you’re dating?”
A lot, but did it matter now? We had no future. “Yes.” Miles didn’t need to know my business, personal or otherwise.
He twisted his mouth. “I’d hoped…maybe you and me…but, hell. I guess you’ve made your choice.”
My jaw dropped. Sixx had been right! “You never said a word you felt that way.”
“Would it have done any good?”
“We had a thin
g once. But it was over a long time ago. I’m sorry.” I dreaded the days ahead. The accusation, his confession of interest—working with him would be awkward. How much of his suspicion had been influenced by his unrequited feelings?
“I kind of figured you’d say that. Sixx is a lucky man.”
Not so lucky. The Fates had matched us, laughed, and thrown roadblocks in our way. I looked at Miles. “I’m still taking the day off.” I needed space, time to think, to mope, to fume. I had to re-bandage my broken fingers. I had a busy day ahead of me.
“I understand.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re not going to quit, are you?”
I scowled. “Why would you think that?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Well, you know, working together could be weird. I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”
“Oh, because clearly you do.”
He flushed. “I made a mistake. You’re my best coder.”
I tilted my head. “If I did quit, would you let me out of my employment contract?”
“If you quit, there is no employment contract.” He regarded me with speculation. “Are you intending to work for a competitor?”
Close but not quite. I intended to become his competitor.
Until his question about quitting, I hadn’t considered leaving now. But why wait? Starting my company was my big goal, the one I’d gripped so tightly I’d lost Sixx. I owed it to him to follow through, or sending him away had been the biggest mistake of my life. My nest egg wasn’t as solid as I would have preferred, but if I was frugal, I could stretch it. The sooner I left, the sooner the clock would start on the waiting period. If I quit now, I could focus on perfecting T-Rex Island, get my release and marketing plans set, and then go big with the launch as soon as contractually allowable.
Miles pressed his lips together. “All noncompete clauses remain in force until the expiration date.”
“I figured you’d say that.” I spun away. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe.” I faked a cough. “I might be coming down with something.”
Chapter Twelve
Sixx
“You’re not a stalker or anything, are you, buddy?” Jorge, the Uber driver, sought my gaze in the mirror. Moxie had already left when I’d gotten to her hut, so I guessed she’d gone to her office. We’d arrived to find her and her ex-mate in the parking lot. Judging from the gestures, they were arguing, so Jorge and I parked a short distance away. Even though they were fighting, it was clear the man had feelings for her. I don’t know why Moxie couldn’t see it, but the other man hadn’t given up.
“I’m her mate,” I replied.
“Uh-huh,” Jorge said.
I couldn’t leave matters as they were. Our problems seemed insurmountable, but I couldn’t give up. There had to be something to turn the tide in my favor. Unfortunately, the Fates only selected one’s mate; they left it to the individuals to make the union work.
“Tell me about video games,” I said to Jorge.
“What about them?”
“Why are they important?”
“They’re fun, entertaining. They’re interactive, so you feel like you’re participating and not passively watching something. You influence the outcome. You’re like the master of your destiny. It’s something you can control.”
“They’re not real.”
“They feel real. Is a movie real? A book? A game helps people forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Their problems.”
My problem was getting Moxie to come with me to Dakon. Forgetting wouldn’t solve anything; I needed to fix the problem. “My mate creates video games,” I said.
“Big money.” Jorge nodded.
“She says it’s her dream to make them.”
He whistled through his teeth. “It’s a good dream.”
“Do you have a dream?” I asked.
“Go to medical school. Become a doctor. Driving for Uber pays the bills in the meantime. What about you?”
“Have a mate and have more kits.”
“That seems doable.”
“Except my mate says—” I broke off when Moxie stomped off to her car, started it up, and peeled out of the parking lot. “Go, go, go!” I urged.
“I’m on it.”
She stopped at a grocery store and went inside for a few minutes before emerging with a small package and speeding away again. She drove for half an hour and ended up at a green area with tall trees, grass, and shrubbery.
In a sand pit, kits swung from metal bars, crawled through tubes, and slid down a metal pan. Laughter and screams rang out. In a big open field, several men tossed a flat disk back and forth while dogs barked and tried to catch the disks. Seated at tables under an awning, families ate together.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“It’s a park. People come here to be with nature,” Jorge said.
It looked different from New Los Angeles, the Earth city I was familiar with. Instead of glass and concrete structures that blocked the sun, vehicles clogging asphalt paths, smelly garbage, loud clanks and toots, people rushing and with heads bowed over their phones, there was greenery and light, open space, the fragrance of soil and vegetation, and the sound of laughter and joy. This was not an Earth I had seen before. “Are there more parks?”
“Lots of them. Some are even bigger.”
I liked this park. It would be a good place to talk without interruptions. I had to hurry. Moxie exited her car and headed for a gravel path meandering away from the populated area into dense brush. If I didn’t hurry, I could lose her.
“Thank you for your time,” I said to Jorge. “What do I owe?”
“Should I wait for you?”
She disappeared around a corner. “No, I could be a while.” I didn’t know what I would do if I couldn’t change her mind. If things went the way I hoped, maybe we could explore this park together. “I’ll call another Uber when I’m ready to leave.” If things went well, Moxie could drive me.
“All right. Good luck,” he said.
The request for payment shot into my phone. I submitted my payment with a gratuity for his great service and exited the vehicle. Taking off at a jog, I ran to catch up with her.
Beyond the dense foliage, the path forked. A sign with arrows pointed to something, but I couldn’t read the language. I studied the trodden ground, trying to assess which way Moxie had gone, but there were too many tracks to discern which ones were hers. However, most of the footprints, human and animal, led to the right, so I took a chance that she would do as the others had, and I headed that way.
Chapter Thirteen
Moxie
Nature was my go-to stress reliever. Being outdoors, smelling the fresh air, hearing the birds sing, watching squirrels scamper, I felt my irritation dissipate.
I followed my favorite route to the first fork. More than ten miles of hiking trails wound through the park with signage pointing the way so hikers didn’t get lost. Occasionally somebody ventured off a trail and ended up a missing person on the evening news. They were usually found before they had to spend a night in the pseudo wilderness. But not always.
To the right, a half-mile trek led to the dog park, to the left, just over two miles, the pond. The fork in the road reminded me of my life. Two paths leading to different destinations. Both worthwhile, but, in taking one, I had to give up the other.
I headed left toward the pond.
One of my mother’s boyfriends had loved camping. Mom hated roughing it, but I sided with him on that one. During the two summers he’d been with us, we’d taken trips to Yosemite, Yellowstone, and Glacier. He and my mom had split up after the Glacier trip, but sleeping under the stars counted as one of my favorite childhood memories. Simple, happy times. These days, I fought traffic to a high-stress job in a windowless office, arriving before the sun rose and leaving after it set.
It will be better when I can launch T-Rex Island.
Would it though? Sure, I’d have a better boss�
�me—but wouldn’t the pressure to succeed be greater? The hours longer? The stakes higher? When the business took off, then I’d be the in the position Miles was in—managing employees and payroll, trying to protect against intellectual property theft. Would I even have time to do what I loved? Miles spent very little time on coding anymore.
I lifted my face to feel the warmth. Would I ever see the sun again once my venture got underway? Was what I wanted to achieve worth what I would be giving up?
Freedom. Flexibility. A social life. Sixx—the man who’d burrowed into my heart. If I let him fly out of my life, I doubted I’d ever meet anyone like him again. I would never love anyone again. Perhaps I was more like my mother than I thought.
Every man she met was her “soul mate,” until he wasn’t. Was I really in love? Or imagining I was? What if my feelings waned? Prior to meeting Sixx, I’d gone through a long dry spell without male companionship. Maybe I was just horny.
How stupid would it be to give up a lifelong goal for a man I’d known less than a week? Could falling in love be a way to avoid proceeding to the next step in my career? Chasing a dream was easy when it was only a dream. When it became real then it got scary. Perhaps fear of success caused me to look for an out. Perhaps I needed to kick myself in the butt, stop procrastinating, and quit my job. Focus on T-Rex Island and get ready to leap into the market when the gun went off and contractually I could “compete.”
Or maybe I needed to quit my job and go with Sixx to Dakon. I’d never meet a better man. He always had my back. He would have believed me no matter what the “evidence” insinuated. Miles, who’d known me far longer, hadn’t.
Contemplating Sixx leaving caused my chest to tighten and my heart to ache. Game or no game, the brightness of my future dimmed if he wasn’t in it.
If only he could stay! But he couldn’t. He had a son.
Tail twitching, a squirrel darted across the path and scampered up a gnarled oak. The air smelled spicy from manzanita and sagebrush growing along the trail. The combination of the slight uphill hike, the warmth of the sun, and my lack of fitness was making me sweat. I spent too much time at my desk. It wasn’t healthy.