“Wait, what?” Vee said, “But...I haven’t agreed to my information going public yet. And, if they were going to tell the public anyway, why didn’t they do so sooner?”
“They won’t be sharing your information, just his. The reason they didn’t do so sooner was per my request—particularly because I was hoping to have him arrested before things got complicated again. Hopefully with his face plastered on screens throughout the city, he’ll be denied future public services and caught before the day’s out.”
“So...why do you say things won’t be the same?”
Landon gave his full attention to Vee. “Even if your identity isn’t released into the public, details of the story will be. Your friends will know. Their attitude toward you will be different, whether for better or worse. For that...I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mind,” Vee said. Landon just looked at her. She held his gaze unwaveringly. “I think I’ve learned a lot of important things over the past few days, and one of those things is that relationships can change, and there’s no stopping that. There might be any number of things that might affect how people see me today or tomorrow or in a year, but it doesn’t mean that we’re any less connected.”
Landon smirked. She had a valid point.
She continued, “So, even if I can’t decide how people choose to see me, I can at least do my best to change how I see them. Maybe not immediately, but...I want to decide how my strings look. I want them to reflect how I want to feel, not how I do. If you want to know more about me, I want to be the kind of person you want to see.”
A hint of embarrassment tickled Landon’s cheeks. Vee’s statement was bold and earnest, and it caught him a little off guard. Given her situation, Landon would have thought that the hours of dark solitude would have broken her mentality: but it seemed he couldn’t be further from the truth. Vee had once again surprised him with her resilience and sincerity, making a motion to change herself thanks to his strange ability, but not because of it. The way she spoke, the way she conveyed herself, it was clear to Landon that she wasn’t just spouting platitudes for the sake of being polite. She meant what she said. She wanted to change herself for herself. And Landon was a part of that.
Something in his heart stirred.
He didn’t dwell on it for long, though. Landon quickly finished his small breakfast and headed out the door, Vee close behind. With the pain medication properly kicked in and a mysteriously pleasant feeling, Landon felt in top notch condition to meet the day’s challenges. His first stop: the College of Natural Sciences’s Department of Biology.
- 19 -
The lady at the Biology office was just as amiable as before. Vee thought she was a good fit for her job. She recognized Landon when he walked in, greeting him with a wide smile.
“Welcome back,” she said, “what brings you in today?”
Landon returned the smile with charm. Vee wondered whether or not the secretary knew he wasn’t a student. It seemed obvious to Vee, but she had the benefit of knowing him better than a random stranger. If Vee thought about it, she had seen plenty of students around campus wearing suits or other professional attire, and it wasn’t as if Landon appeared very old. Even if he did, there were a good number of non-traditional students at the university.
“Is Professor Wellington in today? I was hoping to ask her a question.”
The secretary folded her arms over the desktop. “I haven’t seen her, no. She hasn’t collected the items in her box, either. Let me check her schedule, though; I don’t think she has classes today.”
As the secretary pulled up an application on her computer, Landon discreetly pulled out his phone. Vee watched as he pulled up a browser and typed in Sandra Wellington-Clarke. He selected the first result, a link on the college’s website. The page brought up her image, office number, and extension, as well as a short bio of her life and accolades. He studied the page for a moment before turning his attention back to the secretary. He frowned.
“Yup, looks like she doesn’t have class today. Her office hours are much later, too. It’s not uncommon for professors to work from home until they’re required to come in.”
“I see,” Landon said. “I don’t suppose she’s responded to any of the inquiries you sent out yesterday?”
The lady shook her head. “No, but that’s not terribly uncommon either. They have a lot of things to go through, especially during midterm season. What do you need? I can forward it to her if you don’t mind waiting.”
Landon was pensive and took a moment to respond. “I’m afraid this is something that can’t wait. Do you have her address? I can go there now.”
For the first time since entering the office, the secretary visibly frowned. “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s not something I can do. I can assure you, I’ll get the message to her as quickly as possible.”
Vee was close enough to hear the air steam through Landon’s nostrils. “No need,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”
The woman smiled again, but to Vee, it looked a bit more wary. “Office hours are posted on the doors. Thanks for coming by.”
Landon nodded and stepped out of the suite. He walked down the hall and plopped onto a sofa in a resting area, pulling out his phone as he did so. Vee hovered above him.
“What did you find out?”
Landon’s face grew dark. “I’m afraid things may have just gotten a lot more complicated. It looks like your worries were founded.”
Vee’s voice lowered, even though she knew nobody could hear her. “You mean...?”
“Professor Wellington is no longer among the living. I’m sorry, Vee.”
Vee hung silently in the air, unsure how to respond. After a moment, she said, “How can you be sure?”
Landon didn’t look away from the screen as he responded. “Considering the circumstances, I felt it was best to check her string. Fortunately, I’ve met with Dr. Wellington on a number of occasions, so it should’ve been easy to spot her string with the secretary. I imagine it would’ve been indigo—the color of professional relationships—but I couldn’t find the string at all. Dead people don’t have strings.”
Vee clenched her teeth. “I want to see for myself.”
Landon finally glanced up at her.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just...she was so good to me, and this seems so out of nowhere.”
“I understand,” Landon said, “and I want to see as well. Something tells me this isn’t any coincidence. If it were a simple accident, someone from the university would’ve come into the class.”
“Is that why you asked for her address? Don’t you have that already?”
Landon shook his head. Vee watched as a student walked past. He glanced over momentarily at Landon before returning to his own business. It must’ve been easy to assume he had a bluetooth or something. Nobody would think he was talking to a ghost. “I have her old address—the one that now belongs to Mr. Clarke. She told me she had no intention to stick around, but she hadn’t lined up another place. That was more than eight months ago, though. I have a hard time believing she’d still be at Mr. Clarke’s address.”
Vee slunk toward the ground. Eight months was a long time to go through divorce proceedings, she thought. “So you need her address. Can’t you just ask Detective Bimmel?”
Landon sighed. “Jim and I go back, but it’s a matter of propriety for me to discover things on my own. I’ve already stretched my influence pretty thin in this case, and I’d rather Jim continue tracking down Kayne without distraction.”
Vee crossed her arms. “Except, you just said Professor Wellington is...dead. Wouldn’t that put this into police territory?”
“Yes,” Landon said, “but it’s easier to expose a crime based on fact more than it is to predicate one on speculation. Technically, we don’t know where the professor is. She might not be at her house. If we sent the police to investigate and they found nothing, not only would my reputation take a hit from the force at large, but it
could prove to be a waste of time and resources.”
“I think I understand,” Vee said, “but what are we supposed to do if she’s not there?”
“We have the luxury of spending time on this. We’ll follow the clues until we find her, and hopefully that will reveal something we don’t already know about the case.”
Vee nodded slowly. After a few moments of silence, Landon cursed at his phone. “What is it?” Vee asked.
Landon tilted the phone so she could see from where she floated. “Dr. Wellington’s current address is listed as a PO box. Waste of four dollars just to try and find out quickly...”
Vee perked up as an idea struck. “Landon!”
He was somewhat taken aback by her sudden exclamation. “What?”
“Go to her office!”
“Why? No offense, but I doubt she’ll be there. We can’t even get in.”
Vee few in close and grinned. “You mean, you can’t get in. It might be a longshot, but she might have her address somewhere for me to see!”
Landon covered his mouth and looked toward the ground. After a moment, he looked back up and met Vee’s eyes. “It’s worth a shot,” he said, “lead me there.”
Vee nodded and complied. They wasted no time in the hallway and sped to the professor’s office. Vee shared a determined look with Landon before passing through the door.
Entering the professor’s office all alone felt strange. There was an uncanny feeling that what she was doing wasn’t right, and that she’d be caught trespassing at any moment. The room was dark, as the office didn’t face any outside walls. Of course, that didn’t bother Vee. It was convenient to see almost perfectly despite the only light trickling in from the locked door. Vee wondered if what she saw was what it was like to be nocturnal.
Vee flitted about the office, carefully trying to examine every post-it and every paper strewn about the room. Her professor wasn’t exactly tidy, though she tried to make an effort before office hours. Vee could see now just how cluttered things got when the teacher wasn’t expecting company. It made finding a clue a tad frustrating.
Finally, Vee spotted something that looked promising. An envelope buried beneath a stack of papers was partially exposed. It wasn’t addressed to the professor, but it was addressed to someone sharing her last name. Vee focused her attention to the papers on top, and it was clear that the contents were a personal letter, and Vee wagered a guess that it was to Professor Wellington’s mother based on what she could read. It would also make sense as to why a person would bother handwriting a letter in the present age of technology. The only problem was, if the corner was, indeed, marked with the professor’s home address, it was covered by the letter on top.
Vee sneered at her misfortune, and waved her arm through the table as if it would make a difference. Her hand did not catch the letter, nor did anything move. Vee sunk in dismay, but shook her head and tried again.
Cummon, she thought, just a little bit!
Again, her hand passed right through the paper and wood, and she felt as if the envelope mocked her vain attempts. Vee just grunted and tried harder. Before long, Vee found herself legitimately riled up, and a pinch of desperation sunk into her heart. She batted furiously, putting every ounce of will she had into making something—anything—happen. Vee continued for a time, unrestrained by physical fatigue. Despite that, nothing happened.
She finally gave up.
Vee bit her lip. She said she wanted to be useful, and this was her chance. If nothing came from this, would she have simply wasted Landon’s goodwill? Vee closed her eyes. Why won’t you just MOVE?
All at once, Vee heard the fluttering of paper flap around her. She opened her eyes. There wasn’t a substantial difference in her surroundings—no storm or tornado of notes and assignments—but a few loose memos fluttered to the floor, but more importantly, a certain envelope lay exposed on the desk.
Vee’s face beamed as she floated in close. There it was. Right in the corner: 3155 Rubonx St. That was the address. It wasn’t the university’s address, nor was it a PO box. It was clear that the return address on the envelope was for Sandra Wellington. Vee took a moment to marvel at herself and what she had accomplished. She had noticed it before but never thought much of it, the way dust unsettled ever so slightly when she was particularly distraught. She wondered if this was something she could learn to use, or if it might’ve had some adverse effect. Her mind was drawn momentarily to her conversation with Cecil. The first time she noticed she could influence the physical world, she felt like she’d be swallowed up in grief. It was after that when Cecil told her she risked “going bad,” and Vee wasn’t sure she wanted to do that—whatever it meant.
Instead, Vee shook her head and decided to focus on the present. She had discovered what she set out to find, and she needed to report back.
- 20 -
A chill ran down Landon’s spine, and a moment later, his body began to spasm. For just a moment, his mind was overcome with rage—but it wasn’t his own. It was a terrifyingly surreal sensation, one that seemed to momentarily sever his control on his body while simultaneously trapping him in it. It lasted for only a second, but left him breathless for many more. He grasped at the cloth over his chest and noticed sweat form over his brow. A moment later, he heard Vee’s voice pierce clearly through the door.
“Landon! I did it! I found the address!”
Landon took a moment to regain his composure before responding. “What is it?”
Vee recited her discovery and exited the office when she was through. Landon stared at the address on his phone, and pursed his lips in disappointment. It took Vee a moment to notice the expression.
“What? What’s wrong?” She said.
“Vee,” he said, looking her in the eyes, “that’s Mr. Clarke’s address in Newport.”
The smile disappeared from Vee’s face, and she stared at the ground.
“Oh,” she said. Judging by the look on her face, Landon assumed she was probably beating herself up over the revelation. “But, I thought...”
Landon pocketed the device and leaned against the wall. “It was a good effort. Don’t worry about it too much, we’ll just get it a different way.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “the address did say Newport. I just thought she maybe didn’t want to go too far. I wasn’t thinking. I can look again! If I focus really hard, I can even move the papers a bit.”
Landon looked at her and frowned. “You can? How did you manage that?”
“Um,” Vee said, and Landon saw that she seemed a little reluctant to continue. “Well, I sort of just...got really mad at them.”
Landon narrowed his gaze. “No.”
Vee straightened up. “It’s alright! I can probably do it again—”
“No,” Landon repeated and took a step toward her. “I felt it when you did that. Whatever you did, it had an effect on me, too. I don’t want to experience that again, and I honestly don’t think it could be good for you, either.”
Vee held his gaze for a moment, but looked down in dismay. “Oh, I...I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
Landon sighed, but softened his expression. “As long as you understand. I’m not going to blame you for something you obviously had no clue would happen. Let’s just focus on moving forward.
She nodded, and after a moment, she turned her gaze back toward Landon. She still looked remorseful, but a light shone in her expression. “What if we ask Mr. Clarke for her address?”
Landon stared at her. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not exactly confident Mr. Clarke is the most trustworthy person. He’s assisting Kayne. He could be the entire reason Dr. Wellington is dead.”
Vee pushed back. “I don’t think so,” she said. “In Kayne’s conversation with Mr. Clarke, he seemed too...I dunno, relaxed. Not to mention, Kayne lied about how they were communicating. He said he was using a stranger’s phone, when really it was a burner. I don’t think Mr. Clarke knows about Kayne, and I don’t thi
nk Kayne wants Mr. Clarke to know.”
Landon eyed her skeptically. “Okay,” he said, “let’s assume that Mr. Clarke isn’t intentionally harboring a criminal. What makes you think he’ll just give us his wife’s address?”
Vee shrugged. “Maybe we tell him the truth. I know the divorce was messy. I overheard a phone call between her and Mr. Clarke, which was the whole reason I ended up getting referenced to your agency. But...I have a hard time thinking he would simply turn a blind eye to his wife mysteriously dying.”
Landon folded his arms and tapped his fingers. Then he let out a sigh, typed something into his phone, and held it to his ear. The call went through.
“Jim,” Landon said, hardly waiting for a greeting, “what’s the status on Mr. Clarke?”
Vee floated close to hear the reply.
“Landon, it’s barely even 9. Most people don’t even check out of hotels until 11. Calm down. We’re still staking out his house, and the warrant came in just fine.”
“What about his phone?”
“No answer. Straight to voicemail, which I should mention is full. He’s probably got it off.”
Landon clicked his tongue.
“Why? What’s up?”
“Something else has come up. Have you texted him too?”
Vee could almost hear Detective Bimmel roll his eyes. “Do you take me for an idiot? Of course we have. No response there, either.”
“And nothing from the hotels?”
“Nothing.”
Landon sharply exhaled. “Alright. Keep me posted.”
As Landon hung up the phone, he glanced at Vee. “That’s that, then. How do you suppose we get a hold of him when the police haven’t even been able to?”
Vee bit the inside of her cheek. “What about email?”
Landon covered his mouth. He knew the police never contacted an individual through email. A person could have any number of email addresses, and that method of communication wasn’t considered to be an official channel. He wouldn’t be surprised if the thought never even crossed Jim’s mind. “It could work...”
The Red String of Fate Page 14