by Bob Dattolo
On a whim, I started checking other social media sites.
Every one of them was down. Twitter did the same thing. There one minute, gone the next. The others were taken down already.
Which started me digging into him or mention of him. His name is Joel Stringer, but there aren’t any mages or dragons with that last name anywhere in Florida that I can find. I searched for birth records, only to find that his is out there with no father’s name.
Yes, I thought to find his Mom, but she’s dead. I don’t think she was killed, but she’s definitely gone as of just about 15 years ago. The minimal information I have on him puts him at 26 years old, which means he was 11 when she died. Car accident it seems. Not even a suspicious one. She was waiting in a line of cars when a truck lost control due to being hit by a car that sent it out of the lane. She was one of a dozen deaths.
So if that was set up by someone, possibly our father? Then he’s a sneaky bastard and I really need to be worried about him.
Which leaves me back at the beginning.
No mention from him about his father in anything that came up. No mention of anyone nearby missing a kid.
Dammit, this is even more proof to me that my parents are from this area. It really is. As God is my witness, I will find out who they are. Maybe not now, but at some point. Even if I have to find a private investigator to search things. Someone has the information out there from readily available information. I know it. I can feel it.
The girls didn’t pick up my unease during breakfast, and that turned into me pushing his weirdness back and away. I need to think about what he said. What I can possibly do. I might be able to pay him now that I have at least a decent chunk of money. I can do that. Yet his fear? I’m thinking money won’t be enough to sway him to leave me any clues.
Which means I need to let it percolate. Let my brain simmer on the information. Look things up periodically, trusting that something will give. Some random search will turn up something good. Somewhen.
We spent three more amazing days having fun, meeting people, and hanging out doing all sorts of random things together, and it was so freaking cool. I fit in a number of flights late at night and had a blast soaring over the ocean and then touring this area of the state. It’s simply awesome to see everything from up high. The entire experience really triggers me into believing I’m from around here originally.
I also found a coffee place that’s open early enough for even me to be happy with it. It helps that it is right on the beach and it has an amazing view of things when the sun starts coming up. I had my spot picked out nearly 45 minutes ago, so I had a fresh, warm muffin in hand along with my coffee, and I’m in heaven as the first bit of the sun slips into view.
Damn, that makes my heart lurch at seeing it.
So much so that I don’t at all catch that someone is standing next to the table until I sip some of my coffee. Now the smell hits me, getting me to look over. And up. My visitor is tall as hell. Also not someone I expected to be seeing right now. Or possibly ever.
“Good morning, Captain Garrison. Care to have a seat?” I held up my coffee, “The coffee is amazing here if you’ve never had it. The muffins are fresh, too.”
He looked over my selection before shaking his head, “No thank you, Miss Stricken.”
Hmm, “Miss Stricken, huh? I thought we were at a point where you were calling me Maddie?”
He rested his hands on the back of the chair next to mine, “During our prior discussions? Yes. As for this one? When you’re a suspect? I don’t think so.”
Umm, what? Nothing in his bearing gives me any clue as to what the hell is happening. Like at all. “Oookay? You want to have a seat then? I can deny whatever it is you think I’m a suspect for if you want? Unless its jaywalking? Assuming that’s even a real thing here? I don’t have a clue, but I jaywalked the hell out of things over the past few days since getting into town.”
Instead of sitting next to me, he moved to the other side of the table, putting his back to the gorgeous view. When he sat, he put his phone on the table next to him, telling me that he’s more than likely recording this.
Oh my, interesting, he also hit me with a spell to see if I’m telling the truth. He’s done that before, but he’s always done it himself. This time he used the case on his phone to do it. That means someone freaking turned it into a charm? I never even thought about that before. Makes me wonder if he made it himself, bought it himself, or it was provided to him. Since I’m nearly certain he’s not a normal cop, I can’t even guess that way.
Instead of jumping into questioning him, I sipped my coffee and took a bite of muffin as he watched. “Is this the point that I tell you I won’t speak to you unless I have my lawyer present?”
He folded his hands on the table and leaned in, “That depends. Is that what you are saying?”
That’s how he wants to play this? “Instead of asking that directly? Let me ask you a question first?”
“Shoot?” He raised an eyebrow at me, something he used to do when I was being funny without trying to be. Or at least that’s how I interpreted it.
“I’ve never been clear on what your jurisdiction is? I get that you’re a cop, but you were way too involved when everything happened with me. I’m unclear who you work for.”
His eyebrow stayed up as he tilted his head, “Interesting question. While we are in Miami, this is not my area, so to speak. My jurisdiction extends across all of Florida as well as parts of Georgia when I’m needed. As you saw originally, I work with special teams that assist on supernatural cases and things like that.”
Hmm, my nose went wild and I sat back, sipping and nibbling, watching things out of the corner of my eye as hard as possible. I wasn’t picking up on it before, but now I smell vague hints of familiarity that make me think gun. That means some of his team is behind me somewhere. I’m just not sure why. In light of that, I buried my flow of power so that my hair didn’t light up and worked through a barrier that should redirect bullets if any come my way. Hopefully. Having never done that before, I’m really crossing my fingers and praying that’s the case.
“Okay then, so you cover the entire state. Let me get this out of the way then. Other than speeding at times, possibly making turns or changing lanes without a turn signal, the jaywalking I mentioned, and some drinking under the age of 21, I haven’t broken any other laws that I know of in this state. Or in Georgia for that matter. To the best of my understanding, I haven’t broken any laws at all since you found me that I would be a suspect for. Other than the challenge kills in LA that I’m sure you’re already aware of and the challenges and kills in the academy, I don’t think I’ve even been near any crimes that I think you’d get involved in. So no, I’m not asking for a lawyer to be present even though I can and it sounds like you’d let that happen. If I insist on that, then this is probably gonna turn into I don’t even know what when the rest of your team comes swarming up behind me to arrest me. Since you started out being pleasant and I literally have no idea why you would be here to speak with me or how you even knew I was here, I’d much rather keep this on the pleasant side of things.”
I hit him with a ton, I know I did. All of it rang as truth to him. I said a lot there, too, so it took him a few minutes to pick through what I said, didn’t say, and what I could have possibly said to him.
Finally, he nods, “I…see. How did you know that I have a team with me?”
“I didn’t at first. It wasn’t until you made this sound like something that I can’t even start to guess at that I realized you wouldn’t be here alone. While you knew me as an unknown with no magic, I’m sure you’ve read up on what happened in the academy. The kills I made. Possibly even that I’m a dragon?” He didn’t nod, but he might as well have. “So given that? I don’t think you would have shown up here on your own if you really believed me to be a suspect. You know that I was held against my will, so I’d probably fight if I thought I was being taken in for something. I don’
t have counts behind me, but I can smell them. I have six different scents so far, but I’m pretty sure that simply means most of them are farther out to the side.” My spell protects me from the sides, too.
“Interesting. Very interesting. I did read up on you. Quite a bit. You’ve had an interesting few months since I last saw you.”
“You could say that. Now, while I’d love to catch up with you on the crazy bullshit I find myself facing, how about we get to the part where I’m a suspect in something that I have no clue on? I don’t think you’d be tracking me down with a team for not using my blinker, speeding, or crossing outside of a crosswalk, so what is it?”
Silence, but his eyes keep darting past me. Some of the scents are coming closer, or so it seems, so that probably means they’re coming in in case they need to swarm me.
My sensitive ears pick up some noises now approaching from a number of angles, which is the point he decides to talk again, “You’ve been keeping a pretty low profile since getting into Florida. Tell me, what do you think of our lovely state?”
That deserves a sip and a nibble, especially since the people approaching have stopped. I’m thinking they’re at least 30 or possibly 40 feet back, which puts them in some weird places if I’m picturing things correctly. “It’s beyond lovely.” Deep breath, pulling in the scents. “There’s something about here that calls to me.” I pounded my chest, getting a twitch from him, “It hits me right here. Digs deep. It’s all of it. The sights. The sounds. The smells. It’s the feeling in the air. The sand on my skin. The water crashing against my legs.” My eyes popped open, catching him by surprise, “The spell fucked with my brain, as you well know, but I would bet everything I own, including my magic, that I lived here. Not necessarily Miami, but Florida. You guys worked hard to hide where I was found and where I flew out of, but I was able to figure that out. Plus? There are strange things in my memory.”
“Like what?”
“The spell was insidious, it really was. Anything that could lead me back to who I was? Gone. Some posters on my wall in my room are still visible to me in my memories, yet my room isn’t. At least in full. I can picture other pieces of the house, yet not the entire thing. To me, that means that there’s something about the house that’s a trigger. That will help me narrow things down. What’s more? There are no scenes visible to me through a window. Not unless we’re on vacation. I have crystal clear visions of being in the mountains skiing and doing other thing. Nothing of my family or people with me, but I can distinctly remember looking out the window at snowfall on the mountains. Yet I know we flew there. Yet the beach? I have hundreds of partial memories of being at the beach. Again, no people and nothing other than sand and water and some people, so I can’t narrow it down that way. Yet that, in and of itself, is a clue to me. We didn’t travel far to get there. That means we lived near the water. We spent a ton of time there. I have some vague memories of being on boats, too, although I can’t place those. But, skipping that? The view from my bedroom or the house? The fact that I can remember things from when I knew I was on vacation yet not from home means that there’s something about the scenery outside of my house that would stand out.”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
I gestured out to the sides, “Look down the line here. What do you see?”
He looked both ways, “I’m still not sure what you mean?”
“I’ve been struggling with it. I really have. If we lived in a regular area and I could look out and see hills or huge plains or forests, then it’s doubtful I’d ever be able to triangulate where I lived from that. So that means that what I would have seen has to be common for an area, yet not many other places in the country. I have no memories of living in a desert. No valleys. No cliffs. Nothing like that. I have memories of riding my bike down streets and sidewalks, yet there aren’t any hills. There’s also minimal in the way of scenery around me. To me? What you didn’t seem to catch when you looked? Palm trees.” He looked again. “The scenery here in Florida is pretty singular, barring some few other places that have somewhat the same look.” I sipped and nibbled again, “Here’s my theory. I was found in Florida. Reggie lived in Florida. I flew out of Florida. My parents drove me around for a while, but nowhere near long enough to get here from Georgia. That means that I lived in Florida. That’s why I can’t see the scenery out the windows. I can’t see it when I’m in a car. I can’t see it when I’m riding my bike. That’s why we spent so much time at the beach or on or near water. I’m from Florida. This area speaks to me.” Another sip, “So, low profile? Yeah. Other than hanging out with my friends, I’ve been sitting on the beach staring at the ocean wondering if I’ve ever been to this beach before. Have I ever seen these stores? Have I ever seen that person? It’s all a mystery, yet one I want to figure out at some point.”
No response, so I filled the time with more sipping and nibbling. All the while also parsing through the scents. There are now nine people behind me. I still think there are others off to the side.
“None of that is a reason for you to think I’m a suspect. Unless what I’m a suspect for is possibly thinking this is where I came from. Since I’m not sure how that would involve the cops on any level, we’re back at the beginning. Now can you possibly tell me why you’re here? Especially since you’re not here to admire the view with me? You’re actively questioning me about something?”
He studied me another minute or two before nodding, “You don’t want to have a lawyer present?”
I smiled at hm, “Let me be clear for the recording, Captain Garrison,” his eyes widened, as if he thought I’d miss that, “I am not asking for a lawyer to be present. I’ll say it again; I have no idea why you are here talking to me. No clue. Nothing I have done warrants a supernatural assault team creeping up on me from behind.” Wider eyes. “At least nothing in this state. The kills in LA and during the academy were already judged and determined to be legal. So no, no lawyer. If I’m actually arrested, I’ll reassess and make my demands then. As for right now? Please, for the love of all that is holy and this delicious coffee, please ask me your questions so that we can get on with our day?”
More darting eyes over my shoulders. I came so close to saying something to him about that. Finally, I caved. “Ugh…Captain Garrison? I like you. I really do. If you ever have to do this again against someone that is a dragon? You can’t have so many people coming up behind me that all smell the same. I count 11 directly behind me, more than likely about 40 feet away, although that’s iffy. You also can’t keep looking over my shoulders like that. Not only do you appear somewhat nervous, but you’re making me fight looking over my shoulder to see what keeps getting your attention. This isn’t a sports bar, so it wouldn’t be the TVs. There aren’t that many people out this early in the morning, so it’s not that. It’s not a pretty girl on the beach. It’s your team. At least those that are this close. At a guess, you have others off to the side. I’m not looking at them. I’m not trying to spot them. I’m just sitting here in my bathing suit with my phone, a key, some cash, and this coffee and muffin. I’m being honest here with you. That is all that I have on me. I don’t even have any jewelry on or in. Which brings us back to the beginning again. What am I suspected of doing?”
More silence before he nodded, “You’re fascinating, you really are. I’ll bypass that for now. Let’s get down to brass tacks. What can you tell me about Joel Stringer?”
What the hell? “Impressionistic painter from the 1700’s that specialized in women on bicycles eating baguettes. He was reviled at the time, but became very popular when his paintings were used as prizes on gameshows in the late 80’s and into the mid 90’s.” Nothing more than a twitch. “Hard crowd. Let’s see, Joel Stringer. He runs a web site where he blogs about supernaturals. A fan site. He’d write about them. What they do. Their families. Things like that. He’s maybe 5’5” and has blond hair. I’m not entirely sure, but he’s about 26? Why do you ask?”
He ignored my que
stion. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“When? Or are you asking why I saw him?”
“How about both?”
“The when was in the morning three days ago. I was on the beach watching the sun rise and thought about people like him and wondered if there are any articles out there or fan sites about mages and dragons and their families. And what happens when someone is stricken. It’s easy enough to change the person, but how do you control the media and the internet? There’s no way you’d be able to corral everyone. I found a blog by him and an entry about whether or not a stricken is family any longer. I don’t recall the title of it. I DM’ed him through Twitter and he called me. He met me like four blocks that way on a bench. We talked for less than ten minutes and he freaked and left me behind. I tried to search his sites more, and every one of them was taken down. Some while I was literally on them trying to change pages.”
“I see. Why did he leave? Did you threaten him?”
“Threaten him? Not even close to it. He said that he had information on families with stricken members. He has people visit him and force him to hand over his notes and things and change his site, so he does it. I asked if he could give me access to any hidden information that he still has. I told him my age and what happened. And then he kinda freaked.”
“You didn’t threaten him?”
“No. I didn’t even get a chance to think about it.”
“Why not?”
“Why? Because he recognized me. It took him a couple minutes, but he recognized me. He basically alluded to his father being my father. Then said I had to lose his site, number, name, everything, because if my father ever found out about me contacting him, he’d be killed. Everyone he knows would be killed.”
“I see.” Another bout of silence, “So at what point did you get angry enough to hunt him down and kill him for leaving you behind without the information you wanted?”