Chasing Shadows

by Liana Hakes-Rucker

  Chapter Twelve

  I stare at gray carpet that's worn to threads in the heavy traffic areas. Under the unhealthy glow of fluorescents, it looks so dismal. I'm seated at the guest side of a white metal desk with scuffs in the paint. The scuffs match the carpeting. Decorating a la The State of Illinois. The desk is piled at least a foot deep with papers, forms, and lord knows what. It's inspiring that someone would care enough to work here. The gray cubicle walls are decorated with family photos, religious knickknacks, and some leftover Halloween garland. Sitting opposite me is my social worker Melody Smith. She is rummaging through a file cabinet, the contents of which make her desk seem Spartan. Melody is in her mid to late forties. She has store bought auburn hair, coiffed into a ladies hair helmet. Her eye makeup seems designed to throw you off the trail, and she wears deep V necks so visitors can see her slightly wrinkled cleavage. Melody is making breathing-humming noises, like she does when she's nervous or winded.

  I love her. I love anyone who makes me their pet project. Really it was very nice of her to stay late for me. We are the only two souls I know about in this huge hulk of a state building. Hmm, maybe I phrased that wrong. My shades could be souls, and I'm coming to believe that they're around, if not visible, all the time. So, Melody and I are the only two conventionally defined human beings I can see in the building.

  Melody interrupts my reverie to sing a triumphant "Found it! Cameron Morgan Murphy, missing since February 2008." She laughs because she wants to. I smile and nod. "Okay, honey, check out this picture." Melody flips a black and white photocopy over the desk in front of me. I grab it and stare. Yup, it's a girl.

  I shrug. "Can't really tell from that. I mean if my nose has been broken, then maybe it would have looked like that before the break."

  Melody nods. "I thought so too. Can't rule it out. So here I'm gonna read you some names, and you tell me if any of them stick out."

  "Okay." Deep breath, here we go.

  "Phillip Murphy... Donna Murphy... Jessica Murphy... Joy Holder... Kevin Godfrey." At the name Kevin I feel my face twitch. Melody catches it. "What is it honey?"

  I shake my head. "I was doing research, and I ran across a Kevin Jeffries, who is actually Kevin Burns, but his mom was named Jeffries. He's dead but it's nothing, not related to this."

  "What is it related to?" Melody asks.

  "Nothing, project for a friend." I can see she's intrigued. I'm going to have to say something. "Can I see the file?"

  "Okay." She hands it to me.

  "Are there any other pictures?"

  "Why, Meegan? You remember something?"

  "No but..."

  "But what?"

  I sigh. "Its such a long shot, us finding me after all this time. This girl doesn't even look as much like me as some of them have. I wonder if more pictures, pictures of the family... If we could see a resemblance, that might help. Where did she go to spring break?"

  "South Beach, it's so close to home."

  I shake my head. "Did she make hotel reservations? Did she even get to South Beach? Was she seen there? Which days? I mean, do we have any reason to believe this girl came to Chicago?"

  Melody bites her lip. "Why were you researching a dead guy?"

  Deflection, I recognize it because I use it so often. I roll my eyes. "I do that. I run searches when I want to know something. His name came up in some e-mails I was reading."

  She looks appalled. "E-mails? Don't tell me you were reading other people's e-mails."

  I shake my head dismissively. "Print outs, and they were given to me."

  Melody looks relieved. "Ah, good. So... tell me. What's it about?"

  "Can't, it's for a friend."

  "Well you're no fun. Of course I'm going to look it up myself now."

  I roll my eyes. "Do what you want."

  Melody growls, she's very expressive. "So you think you could be Cameron?"

  "As much as anybody."

  "Enough to run DNA?"

  My eyebrows shoot up. "If you can do it without notifying the family, go right ahead."

  "The family would consent."

  I shake my head. "I've seen what they go through when it comes back 'no match'."

  Melody sighs. "I shouldn't get my hopes up. You never remember anything."

  I nod. "The details need to really match up you know, if we're going to anything that involves notifying kin. My DNA's on file. The cops could always just run it."

  "The police have a lot to do."

  I snort.

  Melody gives me the eye. "I heard about you're little trip downtown."

  I groan. "Not my fault."

  "One of my police friends says you said someone recognized you from before."

  My eyes bug out. I hate consequences. "Mistake. You know me. I look like everybody."

  "Is that what the Jeffries thing is over?"

  Hell, I can't lie to Melody. "Look, if I find out anything concrete I'll come to you. I don't even have a name on the missing person. Not one that I believe, because I think she used an alias and just yesterday someone who knew her said that I, definitely, am not her. I was thinking about just dropping it."

  "You shouldn't leave me out of these things. I can look things up in the system a lot faster that you can Google them."

  I nod. "Okay. If you want check out Kevin Jeffries, or Burk, or Geoffreys with a G. I could use a name of the missing person he was engaged to, if she even went missing. I don't know. And it's South Florida, or I believe the girl was from South Florida, same time frame, February '08 and there's some connection to Madeline Cross."

  Melody gasps. "No, Meegan. You're not tied up in that mess."

  I gawk at her. "How is it everyone knows something I don't?"

  She shakes her head. "I just know what I read in the papers. I don't picture you as a prostitute honey."

  I smile. "Leave no stone unturned?"

  Melody scowls sweetly. "Would you really want to know?"

  "Ha! Finally, you're seeing it my way! I try to tell you, it could always be worse."

  She looks irked. "What if there's a loving, sweet, wonderful family out there missing you?"

  "Well then they'll be really messed up about it when I don't recognize them, won't they? Hell, we don't know how much brain damage I sustained. My whole personality could be different than it was before."

  "Oh, honey, but the holidays are coming and you know every year I hope we can get you matched up with your family in time for Christmas." You see why I love her? She lives in a Lifetime movie. I smile sweetly. "So... How's the job?"

  "Leave without pay."

  "What?" She shrieks.

  "I didn't do it." I say in a monotone.

  "Of course not!" Melody sounds affronted at the suggestion. She is always on my side. Its part of her fantasy land that I'm a good person. "I've half a mind to call them up about it."

  "Go ahead." I say. "As soon as they get around to reviewing the tapes, they'll have to let me come back to work."

  Melody nods. "I bet I can light a fire under their asses."

  "I bet you can."

  "First thing tomorrow."

  "Thanks." I stand up and stretch. "These chairs kill me."

  "Oh I know. We're pretty well done I guess. Anything you want to tell me? Problems? Concerns?"

  "Thank you, Melody."

  "Of course, honey. See you next time."

  "Yes Ma'am."

  ***

  I leave the building with some rare optimism. Maybe I could've called Melody sooner about all this. You should never underestimate the power of a licensed civil servant. I bet she gets to the bottom of everything. Heck, if it weren't for my persistent shadow people harassing me, I might actually be able to let the whole business go. On queue there's a pinch to my lower back. I roll my eyes. The phone rings. It's Schuyler. I know because I finally assigned him a ring tone.

  "Hi."

  "Hey Meegan." He says. "I'm fully medicated now. What're you doing?"

  "Oh
, I'm headed to Luis Finch's place. Gonna try and break in. Wanna come?"

  Schuyler laughs. "Sure."

  "You feel better?"

  "God yes. Thanks for asking."

  "Of course. Where are you?"

  "My apartment. You want to come get dinner before we try some breaking and entering?"

  "Ha! Sure. You cooking?"

  "Lupa made meat loaf."

  "Is she still there?" I'd like to avoid Lupa. I'm a little afraid that she's going to magically know that I messed around with Qasim and sic her nephew on me.

  "Nope."

  "Cool."

  "Cool?" Schuyler sounds hurt. "I thought you liked Lupa."

  "Oh I do. It's just that she told me she'd have her nephew slit my throat if I wasn't good to you."

  Schuyler laughs loud and hard. "You planning on being mean to me?"

  "Well no, but I could turn psycho; it happens."

  "Just come over. We'll eat, and then we'll go to Luis's. I've never been to a dead man's house before. You think we can get in?"

  I laugh. "I have no idea, but if the shades want me to be there they'll open the door."

  There's a long pause. "You know, you're getting kind of creepy."

  "I know." I say brightly. "I'm cool with it. I'll be there in a half an hour if the bus comes on time."

  "You should get a car."

  I hold the phone away from my face to stare at it for a sec. "What the hell would I do with a car? I'd miss all the urine smells and commuters. Besides I don't have a job, and besides that, I don't know how to drive."

  "You don't know how to drive?" Schuyler sounds scandalized.

  I see the bus coming. "Why would I drive? I live in the city with the best public transit in America. Also I'm not even three years old 'til February of next year. I think you need at least sixteen years of life that you remember to get a permit."

  "Chicken."

  "What?"

  "I'm teaching you to drive."

  "No. That's a bad idea." The bus has stopped. I board it.

  "It's a great idea. An Escalade is perfect to learn in. If you hit something you won't get hurt."

  "When I hit something, I'm likely to be charged with vehicular manslaughter."

  "Lawyer, I told you."

  "Jobless, I told you."

  Schuyler laughs. It's a good, carefree sound. I like it. "See you in a few minutes."

  "Okay."

  ***

  Our bellies are full of the first homemade meat loaf I've ever had. We're driving. Well, he's driving. I'm fiddling with my seat belt.

  "What the fuck?" Schuyler says under his breath.

  I look over and my ponytail thwacks my cheek. "Huh?"

  He seems irritated. "This is bullshit." But he says it softly.

  I wait for him to explain, but he doesn't so I give the obligatory "What is bullshit?"

  Schuyler pulls abruptly into a parking lot and cuts the engine. "This." He gestures straight ahead with an edge to his voice.

  I look, it's a laundry mat... "I don't get it." I tuck my blue streak back behind my ear.

  He stares at me. "Have you not been paying attention?" Oh shit. Was I supposed to be paying attention? My face gives me away. Schuyler laughs. He's frustrated with me, I can tell, but he seems to be coping well. "This is the address."

  "The address." I repeat.

  He grins. "That I put into the GPS."

  My brow furrows. "I though you were going to put Luis Finch's address into the GPS."

  He nods slowly. "I did."

  "But this is..." I stop myself and grin sheepishly. "Oh. Sorry."

  "It's okay. So what do you want to do?"

  I unbuckle my seat belt and tuck one of my feet underneath me. I like that he never gets freaked out about my feet on the leather seats. "I want to smoke a cigarette." I say as if that's important. I light up.

  He smiles and shakes his head. "After that?"

  I stick out my lip thoughtfully. "We should get out and walk around." I tuck my pack into my jacket pocket.

  "Walk around the laundry mat. You think there's an apartment behind it?"

  "Hell no. I think the address was a fake. We should walk around to see if the shades will tell me anything." Schuyler looks dubious. "Oh relax." I tell him. "This place came up as Luis Finch's home right?"

  Schuler nods. "In the forty dollar background check."

  I exhale. "So maybe he received mail here sometime." Schuyler stares at me like I'm an idiot. "Or not!" I say. "But look, there are some things, some paperwork for which he'd have to use a physical address right? And a background check company would at least verify that the lot was a real lot wouldn't they? So... I don't know how to phrase this so that you'll believe it, but he probably lived near by... I'm going back to the mail thing." I stop talking now and I can see he's trying not to laugh at me, which makes me laugh a little too. "I rest my case." I add dramatically.

  He grins in such a way that I remember, I'm his entertainment. "Whatever you want."

  "I'll remember you said that." I hop out of the car, leaving my bag under the seat. I've got cigarettes, what else would I need? Schuyler joins me and beeps the locks on the Escalade.

  Not having any better idea, I wrap my left arm through his right and begin walking us around the building. The laundry mat is a low, single story, brick building painted yellow. There are three people inside, and a number of active machines. I wonder if this place in 24 hour, or if they're going to close soon. I take us down the alley to the right of the building. It's narrow. The concrete is old and grass shoots up, long and dead through the cracks. There's the usual garbage: old cigarette boxes, soda cans, beer cans, paper cups. We continue the length of the building where the path T's off on another alley. This one is lined with nine foot privacy fence on the far side. I stop at the intersection. I look both ways. Nothing's happening. I lean on Schuyler. He's taking this very well.

  "Nothing?" He asks.

  I grin and take another drag. I look at the privacy fence we're facing. There's a flicker. One of the creases between the wood slats seems to be undulating. I let go of Schuyler and approach the fence. I feel like Gandalf at the entrance to Mithril Hall. I stare at the fence. I put out my smoke. I step closer. My nose is almost touching it now. I reach my hand out and feel along the boards pulling and pushing as I go. One of them flaps under my touch. I pull on it harder and it creaks. I laugh. I seems the whole panel is only attached in one place to the cross beam on the top. I open it wider and look over my shoulder.

  "Coming?" and without waiting for an answer I slip through the hole.

  I stand up straight and try to remain calm. I hear Schuyler scrambling in after me. We are standing in a well lit back yard, about twenty feet from a well lit back porch. I breathe evenly and look about. To our right is a little shed and beyond it is a lower privacy fence that runs the length of the yard dividing this property from the next one. I grab Schuyler's hand and, as I do I see a full size shadow person scurry along the fence towards the front of the property. I haven't seen a big human shaped one very often and it almost makes me wet myself. I look up at Schuyler. He seems a bit freaked, out but judging by his failure to yell and run away I'm guessing he didn't see what I saw. I raise my finger to my lips and quietly lead us over to the fence. I'd say we go quietly, but the snow has hardened and every step we take goes CRUNCH. We walk along the fence 'til we're about even with the white sided house. If any one is in there looking out, they'll see us and call the cops. Trying not to tremble, I take us right up to the wall of the house and crouch down to shimmy beneath the windows. Now the residents will only see footprints and call the cops.

  We've made it about half way towards the front of the house, when I feel a pinch on my leg. I look back. Schuyler didn't do it, so I stop where I am and look around. Schuyler's breathing is loud to me, he must be excited. We're crouched against the wall looking towards the shorter fence. Over the barrier I can see there's a red brick structure on the other side.
The air begins to shimmer in front of my eyes. I reach out to touch it and it feels like a vibration, but that could just be my pulse. Now, with the space of a breath, the translucent shimmer condenses into a smoky, pearly light. It glows brightly, and is roughly the size of a volleyball, though not particularly round. I sneak a peak at Schuyler to see if he sees this, but he's looking at me. So I turn back to watch the light. It backs up from me, shimmering and swirling until it passes right through the fence.

  I take a deep breath and stand to follow. This is not stealthy at all. The crunch of the snow is as loud as any noise I've ever heard. I approach the fence. I check it for weaknesses and don't find any. I'm going to have to go over. The fence is about five feet high. I doubt my ability to scale it. I have precious little upper arm strength. I wish I worked out more, make that ever. I grab the top of the fence and prepare to embarrass myself, when Schuyler comes up behind me and boosts me over. Now he has upper arm strength. I flip awkwardly and land on my ass in the snow. Schuyler's crossing is much more suave. He looks like a big cat as he lands smoothly beside me. I smile. I like watching him move.

  The pearly light is waiting for us. It floats directly in front of my face for a moment, before billowing to the brick wall and sliding down it until I can't see it anymore. I scooch forward to check it out. When I get closer to the building, I can see that the basement windows are below ground level. There's one every five or ten feet down the side of the building, and they're recessed into little cement boxes which have partially filled with snow. I look left and it's a straight shot to the street. There's only one little leafless bush between us and a view of the sidewalk. I feel exposed. Oh well, there's nothing for it.

  I sigh and reach down into the cement box to touch the window. I feel around its edges. It wiggles a bit for me, but I can't reach all the way down. With a soft groan I zip up my jacket and lay on my stomach in the snow. Fuck its cold. Now I can reach, lovely. My jeans are no comfort in this position. I wish I'd worn leggings. With my right fingers I grab the bottom of the window frame and pull up. Its moves easily, giving out a tiny creak. I open it as far as it will go, which is about two and a half feet. Cool. I hop down into the box, and am about to sit down in the snowy thing so I can let myself into the building, when Schuyler catches hold of my arm.