What She Saw

by Sheila Lowe

  t w e n t y

  “Ms. Mack? Ms. Mack? Hello—hello? Can you hear me? Are you there?”

  My husband? I don’t have a—

  Those malevolent eyes, staring at her. The accident...Fresno.

  Detective Galen was still talking when she pressed the disconnect button and set the handset back in its cradle. Jenna raced through the apartment, closing windows, switching off lights. Made sure the door was closed, locking it on her way out. She ran down the stairs propelled by one thought: get away, get away, get away.

  Driving back to the freeway, she had a strong intuition—or maybe it was an actual memory—that her flight from Escondido today was scarcely less frenzied than the one a week ago that had been expunged from her memory.

  What happened that I needed so desperately to forget it?

  She darted a look at her bare left hand. If she had a husband, where was he? Why could she not remember him? Why wasn’t she wearing a wedding ring? And why did a police detective from Fresno want to talk to her about him?

  And what about Simon Lawrie?

  Her mind staggered under the burden of what she didn’t know. Two apartments. Two cars. Two names. No memory. Oh God. What if she’d done something so awful that she’d wiped it from her memory along with everything else?

  What if I killed him?

  She drove with a lead foot, burning up the miles.

  By the time she reached the 405 junction, she thought she just might crack into a million pieces. If that happened, something told her she would never be able to recover.

  The Venice Beach exits started to appear on the freeway signs and it crossed her mind to call Claudia Rose or Dr. Gold and confide in one of them. But after what she had learned this afternoon it seemed a monumentally bad idea to talk to anyone. When the Jefferson Boulevard exit came up, which would take her to Dr. Gold’s office, she kept driving.

  Ventura was halfway between Kern County and Escondido. All day Sunday, Jenna stayed holed up in the apartment with the blinds drawn, petrified that Detective Galen would somehow uncover her whereabouts and come for her. Whatever he had to say, she knew she could not bear to hear it.

  She contemplated Googling Jessica Mack and her alleged husband. Even got as far as standing in front of the computer. The cold dead eye of the monitor ogled her, daring her to switch it on and risk opening a Pandora’s box.

  Now that she thought about it, the Greek myth made a good symbol for her situation. Pandora’s box held all the evils of the world. When Pandora got too curious and disobeyed the order not to open the box under any circumstances, every bad thing swooped out and contaminated the earth.

  But Hope was left at the bottom.

  Better to leave the lid shut tight and keep it there.

  Monday morning dawned after yet another restless night.

  Her dreams were filled with spirits as hideous and evil as Dementors. Drifting up out of a chest at the bottom of the ocean, they coiled themselves like vines around her throat. The more desperately she clawed at them, the further down they dragged her through the murky water.

  She got out of bed weary and depressed. Escondido had unearthed no new memories, but now she knew why the sight of a police uniform freaked her out: a detective was pursuing her.

  The face that looked back at her in the bathroom mirror that morning was as drawn and pale as the wraiths in her nightmares. Dark circles bruised the tissue under her eyes. You can’t remember anything that you’d like to, she mocked her reflection, but you’d like to forget Detective Galen, and there he is, right up front in your head.

  Shower, dress. The thought of eating made her ill. Drive to BioNeutronics. It was becoming routine.

  Although he had not told her who he was meeting with, Jenna knew that Simon Lawrie was scheduled for a session set to last all morning. That was fine with her. It eased the pressure of fending off the unwelcome passes he continued to make.

  At nine-forty Keisha called on the office intercom and asked to be relieved at the switchboard while she took her coffee break. The person who normally spelled her had a dental appointment and wouldn’t be in until after lunch. Jenna was her next backup.

  They switched places at the reception desk and Keisha handed over her headset. “It’s been totally dead this morning. I’m falling asleep. I’m gonna take a walk across the street for a triple.”

  “Starbucks?”

  “Yeah, the coffee here ain’t cuttin’ it. Want anything?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll go later.”

  “See you in twenty.”

  Jenna sat down and studied the console. Operating the unfamiliar system was easier than she expected. The button next to each extension was marked with a printed name and she disconnected only one caller as she got to know the system. She was beginning to relax when a man wearing the uniform of a gardener exited the elevator.

  His eyes flicked around the lobby uneasily, as if fearing he might be accused of trespassing. Short and sinewy, his arms were darker than his tan uniform. He took off his hat as he approached the reception desk and Jenna read his name tag: Ramon Gutierrez.

  He put his elbows on the high counter and leaned across it, speaking in a low voice. “I gotta talk to somebody in Security.”

  Unconsciously, Jenna lowered her voice, too, a co-conspirator. “What’s the problem?”

  “Uh, I think I should talk to them. Can you just call them?”

  Her hand hovered over the telephone keypad, ready to dial. “Is it an emergency?”

  “Well...no, not exactly.”

  “I’ll have to tell them something before I ask someone to come up.”

  “You sure?” The gardener glanced around again, nervously.

  “Why do you need security?”

  “Well...the other night, you know? I found something.”

  Premonition curdled Jenna’s stomach. “The other night?”

  “Yeah, it was last Thursday. I was working late, I got stuck finishin’ up after everybody else left. Then Friday I was at another facility, so this is the first chance I got to come and report it.”

  She knew without a doubt what Ramon Gutierrez was going to say next.

  “Yeah, so, anyways. I saw this cup on top of one of the bushes right up next to the building? You know, a paper cup, not a real one—and I was gonna put it in the trash. But I dropped it on the ground and this li’l gizmo fell out of it.”

  He seemed to have forgotten his discomfort as he warmed to his story. “It was weird, you know? It was stuck in there like it was hidden or something? I figured I better bring it in.”

  Having resigned herself to the idea that it was irretrievably lost, Jenna had put the flash drive out of her mind. “Could I see it?” she asked, holding out her hand.

  Ramon Gutierrez dug into his pants pocket and took out the plastic baggie. The little device was still sealed inside, just as she had left it. She gave a quick glance at the clock. Keisha was due back from her break. “You can leave this with me,” she said. “I’ll make sure the right person gets it.”

  “But...you don’t think I should talk to Security?” Ramon sounded disappointed.

  “It’s okay. I’m the director’s assistant. You can trust me, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Well...okay—if you’re sure. It’s a computer thing, right? It was kinda weird, you know? It was just lying there on top of—”

  “You did the right thing,” Jenna broke in. “Just don’t mention it to anyone else, okay? It’s better if you don’t talk to anyone about it in case Security wants to talk to you later.”

  “Wow, no kidding? Good thing I found it, huh?”

  Across the lobby, Jenna saw the light come on above the elevator, heard the ping of the cab arriving. “Yes, it’s a very good thing. You’d better get back to work before someone starts looking for you. Remember, don’t mention this to anyone.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged and turned walked back to the elevator, passing Keisha, who threw him a curious glance. Jenna stuffed
the plastic baggie in her jacket pocket.

  “What’d he want?” Keisha asked, taking back the headset Jenna handed her.

  “Just some aspirin.”

  Fortunately, Keisha’s mind was on other things and she didn’t see through the thin answer. “I saw Raul Melendez over at Starbucks,” she said with a sly grin. “You know, that guy in Accounting? He’s pretty hot. I get the feeling that when he talks about having coffee, he doesn’t mean a Caramel Macchiato.”

  Jenna nodded and smiled in all the right places, but her mind was moving at warp speed. That she had been at the reception desk when Ramon Gutierrez showed up was an incredible break. It didn’t bear thinking of that the drive might have ended up in the hands of the security department.

  Simon was distracted when he arrived at Jenna’s desk a few minutes before noon, entering, as usual, without knocking. She looked up at him. “How was your meeting?”

  He pulled out his money clip and peeled off a twenty, not answering her question. “Would you pick me up a broccoli beef bowl.”

  “So, it wasn’t a good meeting?” she persisted, curious about where he had been.

  He threw her a look that made her wonder. “It was a briefing with my wife and I don’t want to talk about it. How about that lunch?”

  Jenna stood in line at China Wok contemplating the coldness of having to schedule a briefing with your spouse. Her stomach roiled. According to Detective Galen, she had a spouse.

  Was that why she and Simon had gravitated to one another? Because they were both in relationship denial? She didn’t want to think about that any more than Simon wanted to talk about his ‘briefing.’

  He was on the phone when she dropped off his food and she returned to her desk, glad that he didn’t try to detain her. An idea was forming to get the flash drive safely out of the building.

  She downed a few forkfuls of vegetable and noodles without even tasting them, then created a well in middle of the Styrofoam bowl and laid the baggie in it. The noodles and veggies she piled on top did a good job of hiding the baggie and she snapped the plastic lid into place, pleased with her solution.

  She was placing the bowl into the carry-out bag when the door opened and Simon entered her office. The man had a sixth sense for the wrong time to come looking for her.

  “Smells like a Chinese restaurant in here,” he said, closing the door behind him.

  Jenna offered him a withering smile. “Maybe you should change your diet.”

  Simon smiled back, showing her the charm. “Maybe I will.” Apparently having forgotten that they were still fighting, he eased around behind her chair and began to knead her shoulders with strong fingers. “You’re so tense, baby.”

  She shrugged him off. “Stop it, Simon, you’re hurting me. Anyone could walk—”

  He bent down, his face close to hers, his warm breath soft as velvet against her ear. “Tomorrow,” he interrupted smoothly. “Tomorrow, we’ll take the afternoon off and go someplace nice. Think about where you’d like to go. Our favorite suite at the Crowne Plaza?”

  “Why are you here, Simon? Is there something you want from me?”

  “Oh yes there is, Ms. Marcott, but we don’t have enough time for that right now.” When she failed to respond, he straightened and huffed an irritated sigh. “Christ, Jen, you’re still mad? How long are you going to hold a grudge? It’s been more than a week. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow, I promise.”

  “It’s not holding a grudge, Simon. You’re married.”

  He made an impatient sound, blowing off the important fact to which she had just called his attention. “The new Project 42 scientists are here. I need you to go down to reception and get them.”

  Jenna rose. “I’ll bring them up.”

  When she stepped from the elevator, the two people seated on the sofa in the reception area glanced over at her with expectant looks. Both were close to middle-aged, one male, one female, as matching as the briefcases at their feet.

  They looked like stereotypical movie scientists: thin, pale, plain, serious. His hair was blond, trimmed very short. Hers was medium brown, set in a fifties-style shoulder-length pageboy style brushed away from her face. Both wore iron-grey suits that were more suitable to an east coast winter than a stone’s throw from the Pacific Ocean on an early September afternoon.

  Jenna pasted on a welcoming smile and started across the lobby toward them.

  “They no speaka de Engles,” Keisha said sotto voce, as she neared the reception desk.

  “None?”

  “Nope. They came in with Simon’s name written on a piece of paper. Dr. Paschke and Dr. Lessig.”

  Jenna raised a skeptical brow. “That ought to be interesting.”

  She smiled at the pair again and said hello. She didn’t know which was Dr. Paschke and which was Dr. Lessig, but each scientist acknowledged her with an unsmiling nod and rose to follow when she motioned them to come with her.

  In the elevator, the woman spoke to her colleague in a language unfamiliar to Jenna, but she guessed it might be something Eastern European. The man snapped a sharp response and the woman lowered her head and looked down at her shoes for the rest of the short ride to the third floor.

  Simon answered her knock with a call to enter. Toward the rear of the spacious corner office, three of the plush armchairs around the conference table were occupied by Simon Lawrie himself, an Asian man with slicked-back grey hair and old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses, and Dr. Raisa Polzin in her white lab coat.

  A third man stood alone at the window. Easily six-five and as broad as a quarterback, his shaved head was tanned a dark walnut color, as if he spent a great deal of time outdoors. He was taller even than Simon, who was himself over six feet tall.

  His eyes were hidden behind the kind of dark glasses Jenna associated with Secret Service agents. One of Christine Palmer’s security detail? The Senator herself was not in evidence at this meeting.

  The man stood with his arms crossed like Mr. Clean in the old TV commercials from her childhood. Except that Mr. Clean wore an earring and a friendly smile. This man was not smiling and he remained in the background, merely a shadow whom nobody introduced. Something about him made Jenna uneasy.

  Something told her that this was not the first time she had run into him, and she was equally certain that their acquaintance was not a friendly one.

  Everyone but the big man tipped their heads at one another and Simon greeted the visitors Jenna had in tow. Raisa Polzin, the scientist, hurried toward them, hand outstretched, speaking to the newcomers in German.

  After introducing Simon Laurie, Polzin indicated the Asian man, who rose from his chair. She said, “Kevin Nguyen,” followed by a word that sounded something like “shefdersicherheight.”

  The security chief greeted them in heavily accented German that got the visitors grinning. Age lines carved in Nguyen’s sallow face and the deep, droopy bags under his eyes gave him the look of an old basset hound. He turned to Jenna. “I’ve already taken care of their clearances. No need to inform Human Resources. They’re acting as consultants, not on the payroll.”

  He pursed his lips, his head cocked to one side, considering her. “I want to talk with you,” he said. “Not today. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Something in Nguyen’s tone worried her.

  Jenna was sorting Simon’s afternoon mail when Detective Jovanic phoned.

  “I’ve got some information for you,” he said.

  “That was fast. What—?”

  “I’d like to meet with you in person to discuss it. Are you free this afternoon if I drive up to Ventura?”

  Her pulse started thrumming in her ears. “I get off work at five. Is something wrong? Is it something bad?”

  “Let’s wait and talk later. Can we meet at your place?”

  Jenna gave him the address and they agreed to meet at five-thirty. She clicked off the call with a bad vibe. Maybe there was a good reason why she had forgotten her past. In truth, she was no longer so sur
e she was ready to learn about it.

  There were no surprise inspections when she left BioNeutronics that afternoon. Nonetheless, carrying the flash drive out concealed in the China Wok bag made Jenna feel less vulnerable. But once she left the building it took all her willpower not to break into a run.

  Waiting to exit the parking lot she glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed a black SUV behind her. The upper area of the windshield was tinted, but she could see well enough to identify the driver as the big man from Simon Lawrie’s office.

  She wished she knew where had she seen him before. Seeing him now left her with a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  When she turned left, the SUV turned left. And stayed behind her all the way up Vineyard. When she entered the freeway, so did he. She glanced over at the takeout bag on the passenger seat. There was no way for anyone to know what was hidden inside. Was there?

  With afternoon rush hour traffic clogging the roads she couldn’t get more than a car length away from the SUV. She kept one eye on the rearview mirror, but soon lost sight of it.

  Maybe she was just being paranoid after all.

  t w e n t y – o n e

  When she arrived at the apartment, a white vintage Jaguar was parked at the curb out front. She drove past and as she turned into the alleyway, noticed that two people were in the car. Her gut twisted with uneasiness. Why would Detective Jovanic bring Claudia with him unless he needed help softening the blow of bad news?

  She’s his girlfriend, stupid. They’re probably going to a romantic dinner at the beach later.

  She pulled into her parking space and shut off the engine. The thought crossed her mind to run and hide, but by the time she had walked around the carport to her gate, her visitors were already halfway up the path from the front of the building and they had spotted her.

  “Hi, Jenna. Good to see you again,” Claudia said.