by David Clark
Jordan answered, “Oh, I am sorry. I have the wrong number.”
“Not a problem sir. Have a good day,” said the voice from the other side, and then the call hung up.
Behind Jordan, Megan came out of the bathroom. A towel wrapped around her body, and another wrapped around her hair. She let the one around her hair fall to the floor and ran her fingers through her hair. Tossing it gently as she did. Jordan had seen this dozens of times and always wondered if it really helped it dry. He returned his attention to the phone and began dialing the second number. It rang once, and then Jordan almost dropped the phone when on the second ring the same voice answered, “Good Morning, Senator Robert Timmons’ office. How can I help you?”
Jordan sprung up off the bed. The phone landed on the bed beside him, but the handset was securely in his hand with his palm over the mouthpiece. “Megan, quick”, he exclaimed through a whisper. She turned around, now both towels on the floor, holding the clothes she had retrieved from her bag.
“Hello?”, asked the voice through the earpiece.
“What?”, Megan asked.
“Tell her you have the wrong number,” Jordan said, extending the handset toward her.
“Why can’t you?”, Megan asked, but she took a step forward and took the handset.
“Do it,” Jordan mouthed.
Megan lifted the handset to her ear and said, “Sorry, wrong number,” and handed it back to Jordan.
Through the earpiece, the woman’s polite voice replied back just as before. “Not a problem ma’am. Have a good day.”
Jordan didn’t wait for her to hang up on her side first this time and put the handset down in its cradle. He sat next to it on the bed and rested his head in his hands. He couldn’t chance dialing the other two numbers. At least not until later. He was out of different voices. Hearing who answered the first two numbers had him wondering what he had just gotten himself into.
“What was that about?”, Megan asked, after pulling her black Ramones t-shirt over her head.
17
Jordan explained to Megan what he discovered about the numbers. This led to a lengthy debate about next moves. Megan wanted to go down to the senator’s office and use something she saw on television once. She wanted to act like a reporter that was looking into the murder and come right out and show the senator and his staff a picture of Sharon Carter and ask if they had ever seen her. Even though Jordan had just resorted to something he had seen on a television show, he explained to her all the bad parts of her idea.
First, if the senator, or anyone on his staff, did recognize her, they wouldn’t admit it. Jordan had to remind Megan that unlike the show, a camera wouldn’t be following the senator or his staff the rest of the day exposing any incriminating comments or actions like they do on the shows. Her first reaction was an embarrassed sigh, and a dipping of her head, but then she countered with a very valid point. The neighbor had described Sharon as a smart girl, and that many of “their” kind had been in and out of that place. What if she worked in the office?
Second, that would be playing their hand out in the open, potentially exposing them to the same kind of harm that befell Sharon. Definitely not what Jordan wanted to do.
Jordan needed more information before he made his next move, and only one person could provide that. He needed to talk to Sharon again. Megan suggested going back to her house where they encountered her before, but showing up again with already one nosey neighbor might prompt a call to the police. Especially if she already knew they had gone inside once. Technically, they had already broken two laws. Interfering with an investigation, by crossing a police line, and breaking and entering. Jordan didn’t have the appetite to try his chances again. What he suggested struck Megan as odd at first, and then she was all for it, even eager.
Jordan let Megan drive. Some so he could talk, but also she had begged him on the way out to the parking lot. They pulled up and broke their third law in two days. Bute Lane dead ended into nothing more than a patch of rutted dirt up a hill and through the trees and into a wooded area along the James River. A no-parking sign was posted next to it, and that was where they pulled up to and stopped. Several lines of tire tracks told of the coroner’s van and probably the evidence technician that drove back deep into the woods where the two kids that were running through the woods chasing their dog had discovered Sharon’s body just two days before.
They walked back, careful to stay on the grass and not disturb the tracks. The less it looked like anyone else had been there, the better for Jordan. He was still paranoid about being discovered and having to explain to the Richmond Police Department what they were doing there, and worse, having to explain it to Todd. Not to mention the jurisdictional issue it would create having an FBI Agent looking into what had been determined a local matter. The area was dense woods above, and ivy covered ground below. The carpet of greenery was so dense, Jordan couldn’t see anything below their ankles. You could drop something in here and it would disappear below to lush cover and never be found again. Not unless two kids ran across it. The news report didn’t say exactly where in the woods Sharon’s body was found, but Jordan hoped by following the trampled path they would be led to it. The only question left was, would Sharon be there?
The deeper they went in, the more Jordan felt something else was there with them. He hoped it was Sharon. Of course, the shadows created by the canopy of trees didn’t help. They gave him the creeps when they moved in the wind. That could be part of it, but there was something else, and he noticed Megan acting oddly too. She was looking around and wandered off the path a few times. Something had distracted her. He asked, “Feel something?”
“Yea, don’t you?”
“Yep,” he agreed.
Just then they both jumped, and Megan let out a shriek. Jordan’s heart went from 0 to 150 beats a minute in a split second. Megan’s hand grabbed for his, but Jordan missed and caught her wrist. Her pulse thudded like his. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he exhaled at the sight of two squirrels scampering through the ivy and then up a nearby tree. Maybe he was a bit creeped out.
It wasn’t much further down the path until they reached an area still surrounded by a single ring of yellow crime scene tape. A few steps inside was a body shaped indentation in the ivy, with several trampled spots around it. Jordan didn’t know if those were created by who dumped her there, or the coroner. Probably both, he thought. A quick look around showed no other path in or out other than the one they walked in on. Knowing they probably followed the same path Sharon’s killers took, added to the creep factor he felt. Jordan wondered if she was dead and brought here, or did they happen to just follow the last steps Sharon took on this world. Only one person would know. “Sharon? Are you here?”
The breeze picked up around them, sending the branches above in a spirited dance. The rustling of the leaves up there sounded like waves crashing on the beach. Jordan braced himself for her to appear. When she didn’t and the wind died down, he realized maybe he had seen a few too many movies on the topic and still expected some of the Hollywood theatrics.
While he was busy waiting for the musical score to play that went along with the movie scene he expected, Megan had walked a few feet away and back under the crime scene tape. Jordan walked toward her and called after her, “Megan, you okay?”
She held up a hand behind her, and without a word, proceeded deeper into the woods. Jordan followed. There were no trampled areas where they now roamed. Just the spots where Megan stepped, but the ivy recoiled back and quickly filled those in covering their path completely. The woods became thicker, causing Jordan to have to turn sideways to squeeze between two trees. It opened into a small clearing that was still covered by the canopy of the surrounding trees. Megan stopped dead center.
“Ask your question here,” Megan ordered.
Jordan didn’t have to ask her what question or why. He felt what she felt. Sharon was there. “Sharon, are you here?”
&n
bsp; Her flickering image appeared just beyond the trees about fifteen feet further in. She looked just like she did in her bedroom the day before, except the expression on her face. It now bore the weight of deep concern. Jordan approached her, just like he would anyone he wanted to talk to. He knew of no other way to be. The thought of treating ghosts any differently than he treated people had never crossed his mind. “Sharon, I need your help on where to go next, but need to ask you some rather personal questions,” Jordan stopped to make sure Megan was paying attention. If this worked like it did yesterday, Megan would be his key to understanding what the answers were. “I am sorry if I am wrong about this, but this is what is in my gut after reading the messages on the phone. Were you working as...,” at first he choked on the word, but then forced it out, “an escort of some sort?”
Sharon’s head dipped.
“She was,” answered Megan. “Sharon, it’s okay. We don’t judge. We are trying to do right by you and make sure those who did this to you...” Megan paused as Sharon’s head jerked up. She looked intensely at Megan. “Oh, she was, but not by choice. Jordan, she got into a loan with someone. Something for I think school?” Megan said, but the tone of her voice asked. Sharon nodded. “When they came to collect, it was this or something worse.”
Jordan resisted pointing out that the worst had happened regardless. He did remember reading she was a second year law student at the University of Richmond. That was a private school and no doubt expensive. “Sharon, is it safe to assume these were powerful men?”
Sharon’s head nodded.
“Lawyers? People at the school?”
Sharon didn’t respond to those questions.
Then Jordan put a few facts together again, “Politicians? Like a senator?”
Sharon’s eyes sprung open, and Jordan didn’t need Megan to tell him yes. In that moment, part of the story now made sense to Jordan. He looked down at the ground and paced to see what other puzzle pieces he could put in place. Sharon was a law student, who needed financial help to attend the prestigious, private, and very expensive law school. Someone lent her the money. The who, Jordan still didn’t have a single idea, except one. The Senator, but he was most likely just a client.
“Wait! Wait! Slow down!”
Jordan heard Megan exclaim behind him. He looked up to find Sharon ecstatic. Her hand waved furiously, and her mouth was nothing more than a blur. This was just like he left her in the morgue. “What is she trying to say?”
Megan started to answer, then stopped. She started again and then stopped again, holding both hands out in the air toward Sharon. They opened, and then clinched, before opening again. “I don’t know. There are too many words. Too many images all at once,” she finally said. Her voice irritated. “Sharon, slow down please. I am trying to understand you.”
What happened next would be the first thing, besides the visit by Robert, to freak Jordan out in years. Sharon flashed across the clearing and entered Megan, who froze right where she stood. Her body shuddered, and then Sharon came out.
Jordan ran to Megan screaming, “are you okay?” He reached out to grab and check on her, but she pulled away and ran off into the woods. Jordan had no choice but to follow. Sharon was beside Megan the whole way. They jumped over downed trees, and around stumps with an athletic prowess Jordan didn’t know Megan possessed. She had opened up a thirty foot lead on him when she came to a stop. Her head focused down at the ground.
“Okay, where is the other?”, Megan asked Sharon. She waited for Jordan to catch up with her. Her hand caught his chest to stop him from stepping further. It was a good thing too. With the lush ground cover, he would have never seen the nude body of the blonde woman that laid just in front of them. It would have been easy to miss. Nature had taken over. Much of her was reddish to purple, the telltale signs of lividity. What wasn’t discolored by the pooling of fluids, was swollen and red from gases created by the breakdown of biological tissue.
“Who is she?”, Jordan asked Megan.
“Don’t know yet. Give me a minute.”
Jordan looked up from the body to see the vision of the blonde woman standing there next to Sharon. She was pretty like Sharon. Probably twenty two or three. Stature, body lines, all eerily similar to Sharon. And she kept up with Sharon and Megan as they both took off into the woods again. This time not as far, until they came upon another similar scene mixed among the trees. This body had been there longer, and several small animals had begun to gnaw on the soft tissue, but Jordan could guess at her age and appearance.
18
It started out as a simple and slow walk back and forth at the no parking sign at the end of Bute Lane. Every moment that passed saw the pace of Jordan’s steps increase, and puffs of dust rose with each step. The only pause in his parade occurred when a plain looking, and cop-like, sedan appeared at the stop sign up the road, but when it crossed the road and didn’t turn toward them, he started again.
Inside, Jordan’s emotions were running faster than his feet. He knew he had no choice, but that didn’t make it any easier. There was no way he could walk away from their discovery without calling it in to the police. Why he identified himself as Agent Jordan Blake when the 911 operator answered, he wasn’t exactly sure. Habit was the only guess he had. Not that they wouldn’t find out who he was anyways.
“You need to calm down, you are making all three of us nervous,” Megan said from her perch on the trunk of their car. Beside her, Sharon Carter and another spectral visitor sat. If it wasn’t for the fact two of the three were translucent, nothing would seem odd about that scene. Megan hadn’t been able to get a name out of her yet. She said the connection wasn’t strong enough, but she assured Jordan it was only a matter of time.
“You know why!” Jordan said as he passed by his audience.
“Relax. We just explain that we walked up on them. That is all, and it is the truth,” Megan tried to explain, but Jordan was having none of it. His head shook the entire time while Megan talked.
“You don’t get it. We found the bodies of two murdered young women.”
“Oh, I get it,” Megan interrupted as she looked at the other two sitting next to her.
“No, you don’t,” Jordan screamed as he stopped his pacing for only the second time since he started. This time wasn’t because of the appearance of a car at the stop sign. This time he stopped to turn toward Megan, nostrils flaring, and fist clenched. “I am an agent. I shouldn’t be here. There are going to be questions, and if you don’t get it, normal people won’t exactly understand it when we say we had questions for one of their spirits.”
“Oh,” was all Megan could answer.
Jordan reached up with both hands and grabbed at the hair on the side of his head, giving a quick and frustrated yank. He turned to restart his pace, but only made it two steps before a line of cars, and a single white panel van with the logo for the Richmond Police Department on the door turned at the stop sign. Each made a rolling stop at the corner before they headed in their direction. The closer they came, the faster his heart pounded. When they pulled up and stopped along the side of the road, Jordan’s instincts told him to walk over and greet them, but his legs were absent of the strength to even move his feet.
Three men in the classic looking black slacks, white shirts and tan tweed jackets exited the three plain gray sedans. They gathered together before walking toward Jordan and Megan. Jordan knew they didn’t see the others. If they could, this would be easier. Seeing them walk over in a group like they were, was imposing and made Jordan feel like a cornered prey. A feeling he didn’t like. He didn’t appreciate the shoe being on the other foot, and remembered something from his training about how to take control of situations when a suspect or others are exerting themselves as the alpha animal, and walked to meet them halfway.
Jordan put together his best performance as he strode toward the group. Each step a statement of confidence. A, “this is my scene”, statement. Something he had seen Agent Marshall Ro
chester do during the Wilson Murder cases. The bureau flew Jordan in on a redeye to look over some journal writings and posters the forty-three-year-old Lisa Wilson’s one and only, and also very deranged, son had in his room. Laurence didn’t deny killing his mother while she slept, but the why is what got everyone’s attention. The voices told him to. Investigators noticed several posters of a band known as Hail Satan, hanging on each of his walls. It made them wonder where the voices really came from. That, or the pages after pages of prayers he wrote in a notebook asking for guidance from the prince of darkness. Jordan found it curious how much they discounted the month old unopened bottle of the antipsychotic drug risperidone. When Jordan arrived at the scene, it was full of guys in navy blue jackets with FBI on it, but there was no question who was in charge. Marshall immediately greeted everyone who arrived and took control.
Jordan tried to do that now, and hoped the twist and turns going on inside didn’t show through. If they did, then he and Megan were in trouble. His stomach hadn’t done somersaults like this since he asked Katie Stevens to senior prom, and the worst she could do was say no, which she did. These guys could ruin his career, and that was probably a best-case scenario.
He met them with his hand extended, and started to introduce himself, but immediately realized he failed to take control when one of the others cut him off. His hand was left hanging there as the blonde with a flat top and stone jaw, which all three possessed, asked, “Agent Blake?”
“Yes.”
“I am Detective Rollins. This is Detective Kendal, and Detective Smith. Care to walk us back to the bodies?” All three men kept their shades on, even though the day was partially overcast. It fit the look, right along with the old Magnum P.I. cookie dusters. He turned, and they followed. Megan slid off the trunk and walked to join them, but Jordan shook his head.