The Red String of Fate

by Rebekah Fowles

  “Like I said,” Landon said, turning the key in the ignition, “I can see why you think so, but it wasn’t him.”

  Vee scoffed as Landon nonchalantly left the parking area. “Oh yeah, and what makes you so sure, Mr. Private Investigator?”

  Landon drew quiet. He stayed that way long enough that Vee decided to call him out.

  “Oh, so I wasn’t smart enough to figure it out, so I don’t get to know? Is that it?”

  Landon pursed his lips and stayed silent. Vee glared daggers, but after a moment, her eyes dropped, and she bowed her head.

  “Sorry,” she said, “I’m just a little...well, I’m scared. And confused. I shouldn’t have been so condescending.”

  Landon took a deep breath and slowly let it out before opening his mouth, eyes fixed on the road.

  “It’s not that I can’t tell you, Vee, it’s that you wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

  Vee’s face remained unchanged as she stared intently at the clasped hands on her lap. Then, she mimicked Landon’s inhalation and faced him.

  “Landon,” she said, “In the past three days, I’ve died, become a ghost, and miraculously come back to life. I’m not sure if there's anything you can tell me that is crazier than that.”

  Vee...had a point. After all, it wasn’t as if nobody believed him. It was mostly that he assumed people would consider him crazy, so he never bothered telling anyone. After all, the only person he had told did believe him. And if he could believe Landon, it seemed within reason that Vee would.

  Despite his newfound resolve, Landon felt a tad self conscious in his decision. His face felt warm, and it was hard to push that down when focusing on the road as well. He mustered his courage and replied.

  “I...can see people’s ‘strings.’”

  Without knowing how to move on, Landon simply stopped there. When it was clear he wasn’t going to say any more, Vee stepped in to move the conversation along.

  “Okay,” she said slowly, “so what does that mean?”

  Landon took a moment to arrange his thoughts to be more cohesive, but they seemed just as jumbled as when he began. After a moment of trying and failing, he pushed words out regardless. “Every person is connected to another person by a string. Every string is different, varying in color or thickness or strength, but every string represents the relationship between the individuals attached.”

  Landon paused for a moment to replay the words in his mind and make sure they made sense. As he did, Vee spoke up. “So, like, the red string of fate fable? Something like that?”

  The red string of fate. It was an ancient myth originating from China that had found its way into popular media. Apparently the Chinese matchmaker god would tie two people together with it, binding their destinies and fating them to become lovers. It was a romantic notion, but it wasn’t exactly correct. Coincidentally, romantic relationships were represented with the color red, but it wasn’t that simple.

  “Sort of,” Landon said, “but there’s really no such thing as ‘fate.’ People create their own relationships, and each person has a different view of that relationship. What might be a dainty thread on one side could be a thick rope on the other.”

  Vee nodded slowly. Landon continued. “Strings are always changing, too. There are a lot of subtleties that reflect how a person feels about the other in that moment, even if the base relationship is normally very different.”

  “Wow,” Vee said, “That’s amazing. You always know how people really feel about each other then, huh? No wonder...”

  Landon nodded. “As long as I’ve met both parties, anyway. If I’ve met only one, I can’t see the string.”

  “So if you’ve met both of them, you can always see the string? Even if they’re far away?”

  “Correct. Granted, I can only see how the person in front of me views the other, so I have no real way of knowing how the other person views the one in front of me unless I track them down.”

  “But,” Vee said, “if you can always see a person’s strings, how do you know which strings belong to whom, if you can’t see the person at the other end?”

  “As long as I can visualize the other person in my mind, I’m able to focus out which string belongs to them. Usually I like to keep pictures handy for that reason.”

  “So, let me get this straight, if you’ve met two different people, you can see what their relationship is and how they feel about each other, even if one is currently in China. But if you haven’t met the one in China, even if you have their picture, you wouldn’t be able to see the string that connects them?”

  “Right again.”

  “Wow,” Vee said, “that could be really useful if you could.”

  Landon shrugged. “Sure, but it just means I need to track them down, like I said. As convenient as this ability is, it doesn’t make me superman. It’s just another form of observation I can use to discern the truth.”

  Vee watched the road fly by out the window. “How long have you been able to see them? Strings and all that?”

  “As long as I can remember.”

  “Do your parents have the same ability, then?”

  Landon’s pitch dropped some notches. “They didn’t, no.”

  Vee’s eyes grew wide in realization. “Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry, I...”

  “It’s fine,” Landon said, “You didn’t know.”

  “How did they...?”

  Landon’s face became stony. Of all the topics this conversation could have lead to, this was the one he was least willing to delve into. Yet, there had already been a sort of catharsis in talking to Vee that had proven relaxing and therapeutic. It felt nice knowing someone else had so readily accepted his quirk, as it seemed Vee harbored no trace of skepticism. Plenty of people knew that Landon’s parents were no longer among the living, but very few actually knew what had happened to them. He liked to keep it that way.

  “Ah,” Vee said, “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

  Landon took a deep breath. “No,” he said, “It’s fine.” He waited a moment before going on. “My parents were killed. Brutally. The murderer is still at large.”

  Vee’s expression sunk. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Nothing you can do about it,” Landon said, “but I appreciate the sympathy.”

  “That’s why you became a detective, isn’t it? To find their murderer?”

  Landon glanced at Vee for just a moment before focusing back on the road. Vee was a sharp girl. Even if she wasn’t the brightest in school, even if relationships weren’t exactly strong, she was observant and considerate. He nodded.

  The two sat in silence for some time, listening to the noises of an urban evening fly by. Landon spoke up.

  “Vee, are you lonely?”

  Vee looked at him. “What? No!”

  Landon simply waited for her to continue.

  She straightened her arms and looked back at her knees. “That’s... well...”

  Landon spoke calmly. “The people in your club all see you as a friend. Their threads to you are woven little braids in varying shades of yellow. Even Lyndzi, who views most people as tools, considers the people in her club important classmates and friends. But you...your sides of the string are wispy. They’re thin. They’re a dull shade of yellow—the beginning of friendship, but nothing more.”

  The car slowed to a stop at a red light, and Landon looked directly at Vee. “Why don’t you want to let other people into your life?”

  Vee clenched her hands into balls. “Why...?” She repeated. “It’s because I’m a nobody, that’s why. I’m not talented or smart. I don’t have any fun hobbies, and I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. I’m boring. I go along with the flow because I don’t know what else to do.”

  “So you just assume people don’t want to be friends with you and subconsciously keep them out. Is that it?”

  Vee quietly nodded. The light turned green and Landon continued on. Neither of them spoke for some ti
me.

  “How do you let someone in?” Vee finally said.

  Landon’s expression dropped. He gave it some thought. After a minute, he said, “I’m not sure.”

  Vee examined his face. “Are your strings like that too, then?”

  “I can’t see my own strings,” Landon said. “But I know myself well enough to think they probably are.”

  “But,” Vee said, “you’re far from boring. You’re smart, handsome, compassionate, and have defined goals. What reason do you have to keep people out?”

  “You don’t have to be boring to keep people out,” Landon said. “Though in my case, it’s probably because I don’t want to let them in.”

  “Are you...okay with that?”

  Landon hesitated. “...I’m not sure.”

  Vee leaned back. “I might not have a minor in psychology, but I bet if I knew someone who did, they’d be able to figure out a solution to your problem.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Landon said. “An understanding of psychology can help a person understand the complexity of human nature, but it does surprising little in rectifying problems. People aren’t comprised of formulas and algorithms. If they were, there wouldn’t be anxiety or depression because there’d be a specific answer to a specific problem.”

  “So you’re saying that even if you know what the problem is, there’s no way to fix it?”

  “Well, no...I’m saying there’s more to the issue than simply flipping a switch and expecting everything to be okay. Or do you expect to be able to make friends with your clubmates right away because I’ve told you they’re willing to accept you?”

  Vee propped her chin with her elbow on the door and looked out the window. “I guess not,” she said after a moment. She let out a deep sigh. “We’re kinda hopeless, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t think so,” Landon said. “People aren’t static. We change.”

  “Even after years of uncertainty? I haven’t done a single interesting thing in my life.”

  “You should learn to give yourself some credit. You’re a lot more interesting than you think.”

  Vee laughed. “Yeah? How’s that?”

  “You’re incredibly self-aware and mindful of other people. Not to mention, you’re quick to notice your mistakes. I can’t think of a single time you’ve acted out of turn and didn’t apologize right away.”

  Vee’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “That’s just because I don’t want people to hate me.”

  “That’s fine, but I’ve met a lot of people who either become disingenuous people-pleasers or overly apologetic for the same reasons. You, on the other hand, are straightforward and honest without being overbearing. You’re not shy, either. You’ve proven to be a well-balanced person, and that’s a rare breed to come by these days.”

  “Wow, uh, thanks,” Vee said. “I really thought you were just gonna say it was cool how I became a ghost and came back to life or something.”

  “I mean, I guess there’s that too,” Landon said, shooting her a smile. Vee laughed.

  “If that’s the case, though,” she said, “what was up with Jon? If he didn’t kill me, why was he acting so suspicious?”

  “Hmmm...” Landon said. “I can’t be exactly sure, but I do have a guess.” He carefully pulled his phone out of his pocket without taking his eyes off the road, then handed it to Vee. “I bet if you signed into whatever social media you use, you’ll find out.”

  Vee eyed him skeptically and unlocked the phone after asking Landon for the passcode. After a few minutes, she covered her mouth, and then her face, and then curled into herself completely. Landon couldn’t help but find it a little comical.

  “No no no no...” she muttered into her legs. “No no no no...”

  Landon held his arm out. “Let me see,” he said.

  Vee waited a long time before handing the phone over. She continued to hide.

  Landon held the phone up so his eyes didn’t stray too far. On the screen was a picture of a very drunk Vee taking a selfie in a rather passionate kiss with a startled Jon.

  “I had no idea,” Vee moaned, “I can’t believe I...I was so drunk...Val is gonna kill me. No wonder he looked so mad, if I hadn’t already died, he’d probably kill me himself.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Landon said with a chuckle. “He seemed pretty into you today.”

  “Huh?” Vee said, jolting up. Her face was bright red.

  Landon’s smile broadened. “His string towards you was pink. I’d say he’s actually been interested in you for a while.”

  Vee was at a loss for words, and then just barely comprehensible when they came out. “B-but, he was angry! He was definitely angry!”

  “Sure,” Landon said, “because he was jealous.”

  Vee’s jaw dropped. “But...he was going out with Valerie! They were on good terms!”

  Landon shrugged. “People continue relationships with people they’re not in love with all the time. It’s kinda a big part of my job to prove that.”

  Vee buried her face in her hands as Landon pulled into a small parking garage. “What am I going to do?”

  “Why not go out with him?”

  Vee shook her head. “No. Jon is a fun guy, but...I could never like him that way.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “By the way,” Vee said, “where exactly are we? This isn’t my apartment complex.”

  “We’re going to my office,” Landon said. “It’ll be easier to talk there.”

  Vee followed Landon out of the car and into the nearby building. As they did, Vee said, “Y’know, if Jon isn’t the culprit, who is?”

  “That’s what I want to discuss,” Landon said, “because it seems to me that none of the people there were responsible for your murder.”

  “None?” Vee said, “But, if it was none of them, that only leaves...”

  “Right.”

  “So...it was Kayne?”

  As they entered the heavy door to Landon’s suite, Sylvie greeted them with a smile. “Oh,” she said, “Welcome back, Mr. Clawson! Nice to see you, Miss Bern.”

  Landon nodded. Vee smiled at the girl. “You too, Sylvie.”

  All at once, Sylvie’s face lost its color, and she bowed it in defeat. “Um, Miss Bern? I’m sorry about your clothes. I tried washing them three times, but I just couldn’t get the stains out...”

  Vee softly laughed. “That’s fine. I would’ve been amazed if you did! And really, just call me Vee. I’m just a few years older than you, after all.”

  Sylvie nodded. “And about the note that was in your pocket, I’m sorry I didn’t notice it until after it had gone through once, so I wrote it for you again. Here you are.”

  Sylvie pushed the memo forward, and Landon caught a glimpse. His eyes narrowed. “Vee, why did you have the name and address of our agency in your pocket?”

  “Huh?” Vee said, “Wait, that was your agency?”

  Sylvie also chimed in. “You mean, you didn’t write that note for her?”

  Landon’s stare bored into Vee’s eyes. “Didn’t I mention it before?” Vee said, “When I was talking to Kayne? Professor Wellington gave it to me. I was in her office one day when she got a call from her husband—the one she’s going through a divorce with—and one thing led to another when she gave me the information on an agency because I was interested as a member of the journalism club.”

  “Hold on,” Landon said, taking a step closer to her, “What’s the professor’s full name?”

  “Uh, Sandra Wellington, I think?”

  “Is that her married name?”

  “Um...I don’t think so...”

  “And Kayne’s?”

  “Kayne Gilbert.”

  Landon’s gaze became focused as he flipped around and nearly ran to a filing cabinet. “Wellington. No wonder that name sounded familiar. It’s all coming together now!”

  He flipped through files while Vee watched in confusion. After a moment, Sylvie brightened up. “Ah!” She exclaimed,
“Sandra Wellington—could that be—?”

  “Indeed,” Landon said, grabbing the file he was looking for and set it on the Sylvie’s desk, “Sandra Wellington-Clarke. She came to the office a bit over eight months ago.”

  Landon flipped through the papers and pulled one out, turning his attention to Vee. “Is this Kayne?”

  He handed her the photograph, and she looked in amazement. As she did, a single string came into view as the others faded ever so slightly. Just like the others he had seen that day, it was a dull and wispy yellow, though perhaps more gray than the rest.

  “That’s him,” Vee said, “but what does he have to do with Professor Wellington?”

  “Dr. Wellington came in to have her husband investigated for adultery. The person you’re looking at is the one he was cheating with.”

  “No way,” Vee said, mouth ajar. “But, he and Nick are...”

  “Like I said,” Landon said, “People continue relationships with people they’re not in love with all the time. Though I wonder, in his case, who is he truly in love with?”

  Vee clasped her hands, and a few droplets of sweat began to form on her brow. “Hold on,” she said, “Nick said he was going to tell Kayne something, so won’t that mean he’ll know I’m alive? We expected to apprehend him today, but will that even happen now?”

  Landon pulled out his phone. “That was my next item of business, actually. I’m going to call Jim. He said he was at his parent’s house, correct?”

  Vee nodded.

  When the call to Jim didn’t go through, Landon shot off a text. Culprit is Kayne Gilbert. Currently at his parents’ place in Cardonk.

  “So what do we do now?” Vee had taken a seat on one of the sofas. Sylvie had brought her a glass of water and hovered nearby.

  Landon sat across from Vee on another sofa. “We wait,” he said.

  - 13 -

  Vee’s knee bounced as they awaited the response from Detective Bimmel. It had been nearly 30 minutes, and she wasn’t quite sure if she could handle the suspense anymore. Sylvie had gone back to working on some papers, and Landon retreated into his office at the back. The blinds were open over the mostly-glass walls. He didn’t appear to be working on anything, but he seemed particularly lost in thought, staring out the window. Vee wondered if it would be alright for her to intrude.