The Rewind Series Boxset

by Jill Cooper

  Sparky whines and nuzzles my leg. I scratch behind his ears, but his whine only grows worse. “I miss her too, but I’m going to find her. It’s time we end this thing for good.”

  I lock up the front door and know where I’m going can lead nowhere good. For better or worse, I’m on an old path, but this time I hope it’ll lead to new answers.

  And my daughter.

  *****

  I grab a donut from the old Dunkin not far from the YMCA and a hot coffee. Inside some old timers sit around what must be there usual table.

  “All these sinkholes opening up, I just don’t know. Maybe it’s the end of times.”

  “You always say that, Marv.”

  “It never happened when we were kids, is all I’m saying. Maybe it’s that damn global warming. Last night I swore I saw a hole in the sky. Like a giant crater.”

  “Stars.” One corrects. “All I saw was stars.”

  I blow my coffee to cool it off before taking a sip. I guess I am staring from how they look at me.

  “What do you think, John?”

  I shrug. What can I say that won’t sound stupid? “I think someone needs to up your meds.” I joke. I laugh, but my mouth is dry like sand paper. What they’re saying makes no sense, but some part of it, crazy as it sounds, rings true for me.

  “I gotta head out. Catch you, old timers later.” A brief mutter under my breath, and I head out the door. The YMCA is open by now and I have a date with a locker.

  The reception desk darling is pretty with curly hair, but pays me no attention as approach the counter. I fumble my wallet as if looking for my pass. “Left something in the locker room, but left my card at home. I’m going to be late for work, so if you don’t mind--.”

  She waves me on but never looks up. I offer her a thanks but she pays me no mind. I hurry past into the locker room and my work boots squeak against the alternating colored tiles.

  The smell of chlorine hits me and the tile is streaked wet with fresh pool water from what must be an early morning swimmer. It’s not hard to find the locker I’m looking for and a moment later, I slide the key in and turn.

  My heart thumps when it opens. Almost like I think it wouldn’t.

  Inside is a huge manila file. I sit down on the bench and balance the file on my knee. More than anything I need this information and I want to understand it right away. My heart has desired it for so long, but I’m terrified.

  I take a deep breath and I open the file.

  Pictures.

  The top dozen or so papers are photographs of my wife. They are black and white and taken of Miranda while she entered worked, left. Went shopping. Like someone hiding in the bushes, stalking her.

  It makes my limbs tremble with a quiet rage I haven’t felt in a long time. The papers tumble from the folder as I quake with nerves.

  I always knew her death wasn’t random, even if no one would listen. But to have evidence in my hand that she was stalked, it enrages me. My chest clenches so strong, I’m sure to have a heart attack. The anger burns behind my eyes and everything goes red.

  I bend over and clench the papers in my big burly fists, I take a deep breath. There’s so much more to see. And I do see it. I see documents with a familiar logo at the top. A logo I never want to see again.

  The Rewind Agency

  Correspondence between Miranda and her old boss, the founder of the Rewind agency, Patricia James. Miranda’s resignation letter. And a document from Patricia to a name blacked out on the paper.

  “Miranda Crane has become a liability.”

  Bile rises in my throat. Patricia James came to my wife’s funeral with tears in her eyes. Going on about how she lost a dear friend. And now I was holding in my hand evidence that she wanted Miranda out of the way?

  I was a fool. I accepted the flowers and casseroles Patricia sent. The offer to help out with Lara, meanwhile she put us in that position?

  I was hell bent on destroying her right then. It was all I could think about. But the blacked out name on the form was important. I need to know who pulled the trigger. Who was responsible for ending Miranda’s life and what, if anything, this had to do with Lara.

  Flipping through the pages, there’s a paper trail of money from the Rewind Agency to off shore bank accounts. It must have been to the assassin, but who he was, I didn’t know.

  The blacked out name was it. I was sure of it.

  If Montgomery sent these files to Lara, he had to know the name. And if he loved Miranda like he said all those years ago, why keep this all hidden?

  He had to know the truth.

  Maybe he was afraid. Maybe he didn’t know what to do with the information.

  Well, I did.

  I was going to burn Rewind to the ground. Seemed like I was going to get my day of reckoning after all.

  Chapter Seven: Rick

  I didn’t know where to go, but I had no other options so I went to the police station to file a report. Sitting in a small wooden chair, my knees bounced up and down. To say that I was uncomfortable with the police would be an understatement. Sure, my brother was the one who committed the crimes, but part of me blames the police even as the years tick by.

  The officer hammers my words into the computer as he completes his form. He reads over my words back to me. “Does that sound right?”

  I nod and bite my thumb as my eyes glaze around the police station. There are noises coming from everywhere from the ringing phones, to witnesses being interviewed, even crying coming from somewhere even though I really can’t place it.

  It sounds like a girl’s voice and that makes me think of Lara. My heart pangs with such despair, just not knowing where she is.

  “Now, did you try finding her at the Rewind Agency?”

  I nod and don’t really want to fill him in on those details. So I give a shrug. “She wasn’t there. They weren’t really cooperative either.”

  The officer nods and hits a button on his keyboard. “Just a second. Don’t go anywhere.”

  I steeple my fingers together. “I’m not going anywhere until someone takes me seriously about Lara.” My voice huffs like it’s the officer’s fault, but I know it isn’t. I take a deep, labor of a sigh and count to ten. Sometimes it helps calm me down, but more often than not my temper gets the best of me.

  Off a few rows away, a phone rings. The officer behind the desk has short black hair and he answers the phone. I can’t help but notice how his eyes study me. They sweep across my face and size me up.

  I recognize the signs. The rigid posture. The way his shoulders stiffen.

  Criminal or friend. That’s what he’s trying to figure out.

  Maybe coming there wasn’t a good idea after all.

  I gather up my jacket and stand. When I pivot on my heel, I slam right into the officer who took my statement. Now though his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow into tiny beads like that of a mouse.

  I wasn’t an innocent person anymore. He was gone for two minutes and in that time, I morphed into a criminal. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but when he lays his hand on my shoulder, I know I’m not.

  “Come with me, Mr. Miller. There’s a few things that need to get straightened out.”

  Yeah, sure I think as I’m led away to a private room. I’m pretty sure it was what my brother said the night the police broke down our door to arrest him. Pretty sure that was it word for word.

  ****

  The interrogation room isn’t much like the movies. It’s not intimidating at all and that I find a little unnerving.

  They sit me at a metal table. In the corner is an old tube television on a metal shelf and on the walls are posters that are so old the corners are bent, peeling off the concrete walls. The room smells like old socks and the light bulb above us throws off heat that I can smell.

  The officer I met with is exchanged for a no nonsense looking detective. He isn’t wearing a trench coat, but an all business glower as he sits in front of me with a folder a few inches thick. He slams i
t down on the table, spins the chair around so the back faces front and then perches himself down on it.

  He snaps his gum and folds his arms down on the table as he leans across. His blue eyes are piercing with everything except understanding. They are angry and suspicious. My bright idea to file a police report dims to a muted glimmer. I want to bolt for the door, but I know I wouldn’t make it far. From the window I can see another officer standing right outside.

  “Detective Mulligans, Mr. Miller. I’ve been acquainting myself with your file.” He pushes it toward me with his finger and it flies like a plane during take off against the polished metal surface. “Course it’s not as bad as your brothers.”

  My chest puffs out as I take a deep breath. I’m sick of being compared to my brother one way or another. My parents want me to be better than him. Everyone else expects me to be just as bad as him. It lowers my own expectations of myself, but Lara always corrected it for me. Now? A future without her is one I can’t even fathom. It’s one I don’t want to live in.

  Mulligans regards my silence with a click of his tongue. “We take false police reports very seriously, kid.”

  My eyes widen. “It’s not false. She’s missing.”

  “Missing, huh?” He leans back and his crossed arms tighten against his chest. “And the Rewind Agency has her? Why didn’t you tell us you assaulted someone there? Stormed through without an appointment and tried to break into one of their private rooms.”

  “I was looking for Lara. That’s why I went there.”

  “Uh-huh.” It’s clear from the blank expression on his face that he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. I don’t know how to start to change his mind. “And now they have her under lock and key. Why would they do that?”

  I shrug, empty. Pointless. I don’t know why I even came there. Police didn’t trust guys like me. Guys with ties to criminals, especially when they were brothers. “I don’t know. That’s why I need the police. Look, if you call her dad, Mr. Crane, he’ll back me up.”

  “Here’s what I think. You broke into the Rewind Agency and wanted to steal something. Money, tech you could sell on the streets, something. They caught you and threw you out, now you’re in for a little pay back.”

  I shake my head. The hopelessness swells around me and instead of making me sad, the anger grows from the pit of my stomach. “That’s not what happened.” I grit my teeth and when Mulligans shoves his face into mine, I try not to look at him.

  “No? You’re a punk kid. Think we couldn’t see that the second you walked through the door? If this girl Lara Crane was missing, why didn’t her dad call us before now. Huh?”

  It was a good question and one I had been asking myself since I got there. Instead of answering, the anger explodes out from me. “Get out of my face.” I shove the detective before I can stop myself.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” Mulligans is out of his seat in a heartbeat. With one move he twists my arm behind me and slams my face down into the metal table. “You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and struggle against him as he puts the cuffs on me. It can’t be happening. It just can’t. I promise my parents every day I won’t turn into my brother. When they get the call about this, it’ll break their hearts. My mom won’t be able to take another arrest. It’ll destroy her.

  And that’ll destroy me.

  “Please, Man. I was just angry. You can’t do this. You need to find, Lara. Something’s wrong at the Rewind Agency. Please you have to believe me.”

  He grabs the back of my shirt and pulls me up. Mulligans sneers in my face. “As soon as you walked in that door, I labeled you for who you are. Tom Miller’s kid brother. You look just like him with that smug look on your face.”

  “I’m not my brother.” My anger simmers in my voice and the jolt of regret, and shame in my words shocks even me, but Mulligan isn’t fazed.

  He coils my shirt around his fist and pulls me in tight so I am leaning too far forward. Almost like he’s going to drop me on the ground. “When Tom was arrested things went bad. An officer was killed. A good officer. Want to know who his partner was, huh?”

  The fact that Tom killed a cop trying to escape an arrest was a black mark against us, our family. We were so ashamed, I don’t think Dad would ever forgive himself. And Mom acted like she was the one who did it. They blamed themselves for raising Tom, bringing him into the world only to release him into it.

  Drug dealer. Cop killer.

  A smear against the family.

  “I’m sorry.” My words are sincere and my shame runs so deep, it hurts to draw a breath. “But I’m not him, man. I’m not Tom.”

  Mulligan shrugs like it doesn’t matter. Like we’re just a dime a dozen. “Close enough.” He pulls back his arm and punches me square in the face.

  The pain radiates out from nose and crushes into my cheek bones. I take another punch and then two before Mulligan releases my shirt and I fall backward, right into the corner of the wall. He comes at me again, his hand massaging his sore fist with a look of respite and glowering anticipation.

  Like a bull before it attacks.

  “Don’t do this.” My voice begs and blood trickles out of my nose. Mulligans is standing right over me and this time when he punches me, I fall over onto the tile.

  I try to stand, but my sneakers slip in the blood that drips down from my face. I groan in pain as he grabs my shirt to hold me still and he flattens me against the ground with another punch and then another.

  The world is going black. I can’t see. The pain just makes me numb as it comes at me in a relentless force. “Help!” I scream and cry, my eyes searching toward the door where the other officer stands.

  That’s when I realize he’s not there to make sure I don’t escape. He’s there to ensure no one else comes in.

  I’ve been setup.

  Mulligans grits his teeth. “Patricia James says stay out of her business, kid. Or next time you don’t get to walk away. Do you understand?”

  He rolls me over and my face smashes into the tile. Mulligan kicks me in the back and I cry out. My spine feels like it’s being crushed as he stomps on me, kicks me in the back of the head.

  And then he unlocks my handcuffs. He takes them off and storms out of the room.

  My eyes are blurry as I star off after him, the blood trickling into my eyes makes everything go red in a scary haze. Mulligans stops to talk to the officer at the door. “Give him a few minutes and then throw him out. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

  They close the door again and I sob into the tile. I try to push myself up, but everything inside me hurts. My limbs shake with so much adrenaline I can’t get them to work. Instead my mind spins with everything that’s happened.

  Mulligans could have arrested me for assaulting him. But he didn’t. Clearly he wanted payback, so why hadn’t he? There was only one answer I could think of. He doesn’t want to bring attention to me. Or to him.

  Or maybe just maybe he doesn’t want my story about the Rewind Agency to get out. He doesn’t want me to cast suspicion on them because I was right. They are up to something. They know where Lara was and maybe they even have her. So I have to get there.

  Right away.

  And whoever this Patricia James chick is, she has all the answers. So she’s the one I’m going to need to see.

  Up ahead the bright light flickers and sways back and forth like we’re moving. Almost like we’re on a ship.

  It’s the craziest idea. A giant brick building can’t sway.

  The ground thumps beneath me like an earthquake from the night before. I push up on my hands to look around the room. Outside through the glass windows, people are screaming. I see a blur of colors as people rush by. My stomach tenses and everything inside me goes rigid. Whatever is going on out there, no one is coming to get me in here.

  I slid backwards toward the window. I glance back in horror as the chair and table slam up against the rear
wall. Like how a boat capsids, that is exactly what is happening to this building. Exactly.

  My fingers claw at the tile, and I find a loose piece to dig my fingers in. My sneakers dig in behind me to stop me from falling out the window. Whatever is happening to this building, there’s no way I am ready to die here. I need to know what’s happened to Lara. Even if the answer is she’s changed the past and is gone, I have to find out.

  There’s no way I am just going to sit and die so I struggle. Claw myself forward, away from the debris toward the back of the room. But the building is creaking and groaning. Up above the roof begins to buckle.

  It’s caving in.

  My fingers reach out and swipe at the door frame. The door flaps in the breeze and I can’t see anyone left in the building. It’s just me. I lose traction and begin to slide backwards. I scream as dust and ceiling tiles crumple to the ground.

  I grab the door frame of the room and laugh with success as the building crumples around me. Like a Styrofoam cup crushed by a foot, the building compresses. I scream as I push myself through the hallway. My stomach jolts and spins as the building falls away into empty space.

  Tumbling and spinning. What I can see out the window looks like stars.

  I scream as I fly upward as the building is near destroyed and my back slams into the ceiling. Free falling, I slam back onto the floor before my body is sucked back into the room.

  My arms flail as I try to catch something, anything really. I grab the cord of the light fixture and toss a wide glance over my shoulder. Outside I see a crumpled city block as the building crushes down on itself, like a building explodes for demolition, it’s flattening like a pancake. I reach my hand up as if somehow I can find the strength to stop the ceiling from crushing me flat against the floor.

  The window behind me smashes out as the sound of crumbling concrete drowns out the quickening heart beat in my ears. I try to breathe as a current of strong air pulls me out of the window.

  I’m tumbling toward the ground as the concrete slab of the police station detaches. “Look out!” I scream as I head toward the crowds of people scattering below. Like little ants they’re all running for cover in a dozen different directions.