The Mind’s Eye

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The Mind’s Eye Page 10

by Perry Prete


  "Did you omit telling me something? Was there anything you saw that you didn't tell me?" Paul's voice showed signs of stress.

  "Detective, I told you everything I saw. Everything. I swear. Why? Did I miss something?" There was a long pause on the line. Nicole heard Detective Hammond breathing deeply and the sound of people speaking in the background.

  "Listen, I'm sorry. I just had some disturbing news, and it was something that made me look like an idiot. Something I missed, and I was deflecting my anger. Something I should have seen if I wasn't so preoccupied. My mind hasn't been on the job lately."

  Nicole didn't know how to respond. She had no idea if Detective Hammond was referring to his personal life or work. "Drinks tonight?" She took the first step.

  "Sure," Paul blurted out without hesitation. "Well yeah. If you have time." His attempt to sound nonchalant was met with laughter on the other end of the phone.

  "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't. Are you supposed to see me, a suspect involved in an active case?"

  Paul thought about what she had said, "You aren't a suspect or a person of interest. Technically, you are a consultant on the case. You helped us with the evidence we have. This is just a meeting to go over anything we might've missed."

  "If I'm a consultant, do I get paid?" Nicole was kidding.

  "I'll pay for the drinks, how's that?" Paul had initially called to complain and ended up with a date. He was beaming.

  "In that case, I want dinner," Nicole said in her best playful voice.

  Paul gave Nicole his cell number, told her that he was busy and asked if she could book reservations any time after six-thirty and text him with the time and name of the restaurant. Nicole told him she would keep the restaurant reasonable and she would spring for dessert.

  "Before I book a place for reservations, is there anything you don't like?" she asked.

  "If it's alright with you, no pizza, no burgers. A nice sit-down, quiet meal. I haven't been out to an expensive place in so long. I'm not trying to impress you, but since we're going out, I'd like a fancy place. Good enough?"

  "I got a place. Meet you there or?"

  Paul thought about it, "What works best for you?"

  "I'll meet you there. You know, in case I want to ditch you between the main course and dessert," Nicole laughed softly. Paul was familiar with the "going to the bathroom" disappearing act.

  "Great. See you there." He figured his odds just dropped exponentially. With that, she hung up the phone, turned around to see Simone hovering over her shoulder, causing Nicole to let out a little yelp. "Geez girl. What the fuck? You scared the shit outta me."

  "What was up with all that cute talk? Dinner? Reservations? Do you have a date? Who is it?" Simone was now kneeling down, face to face with Nicole, hands firmly grasping her friend's shoulders demanding answers.

  "That was Paul, Detective Hammond." Nicole blushed.

  "The cop, the old guy. The guy has no fashion sense. He was wearing running shoes with a suit and tie." Simone squinted.

  "He's not that old. And, he's kinda cute. In a cop sorta way."

  "Fat, balding, no fashion sense but I bet he has a big gun," Simone lifted her eyebrows and sported a broad smile. "Where's he taking you? Better be someplace expensive for a first date."

  "He is not fat. He has a little belly. Geez, Simone, he's not gonna wear expensive clothes to work, and as far as dinner goes, I doubt it will be over the top. I don't think cops make a lot. I doubt he could afford much. He told me to pick the place, someplace nice but I want to keep it reasonable."

  Nicole looked at Simone asking if she had any recommendations. "I was thinking about "Tony's"? No wait, that's Italian. Paul said no to pizza, so Italian is out."

  Simone grabbed a free chair, pulled it up close to her friend, and sat down, "My God girl, you're nervous." Simone took hold of her friend's hand and squeezed. "No need to be a wreck. How 'bout "Athenas"? Did he say anything about a steakhouse, Lebanese, Greek? You like Greek."

  Nicole nodded in agreement but still appeared nervous. "Nervous Hon?" Simone asked.

  Again, without speaking, Nicole nodded.

  "You want me to book the reservations at Athenas?"

  Nicole nodded again. She became increasingly more uncomfortable as she realized she was going on her first date in longer than she cared to remember.

  Simone wheeled her chair to Nicole's desk, Googled the telephone number for Athenas to make reservations. While she was on hold, Simone cupped the phone with one hand and asked what time she wanted to reserve a table. Nicole mouthed seven-thirty. Simone booked the reservations, hung up the phone, wheeled in close to her friend and held her hand. "It's all set." Nicole still couldn't believe what she had done. She had never been so forward with a man in her life. Nicole sat in her chair, unmoving, in disbelief at her aggressive behavior, asking a man out on a date. She had never done that. Yet, she felt so at ease with Paul. Nicole looked over to Simone, "I honestly, literally have nothing to wear that's presentable. I mean, I have work clothes, but nothing to wear out, with a guy. I better text him the place and time."

  *****

  The days were getting longer, each day, the sun a little higher in the sky and with that, he could feel the temperature rise. He hated the winter, the way the snow covered the landscape, the barren trees, hiding everything beneath its thick coat of white. He much preferred the summer with long bright days and warmer nights.

  He strolled down the sidewalk, much like he had done the past November, passing people too busy to notice who he was. But, they didn't know, no one knew. And he was all right with that, comfortable in the knowledge that he could walk down a street and not a soul knew his secret. He knew perfectly well what he was doing was wrong, so terribly wrong. His only excuse for what he did, he wanted to. And he liked it. He questioned if that was a problem. He reasoned it wasn't then thought again that if he didn't believe that it was wrong, he must have an issue. "A vicious cycle," he told himself as he strolled down the street.

  His stomach loudly rumbled as he walked, a man looked at him and chuckled, "Haven't eaten since breakfast," he told him. The stranger smiled back, and they continued on their respective ways. He was hungry. Above, a sign that stuck out further than the others caught his attention. Beneath it, a patio had been set up forcing pedestrians to walk around the fenced in eating area in a narrow path. As he approached, there was an opening with a plastic figure of a butler holding a menu out for the public to read. A quick scan and his mind was made up. He entered, found a table and took a seat closest to the street with the sun at his back. Pedestrian traffic passed him just on the other side of the ornate black iron barricade. He lifted the chair and turned it, so he could watch everyone pass by. He leaned back and looked through the crowd fixating on the women that appeared to be in their late twenties. Each one was quickly mentally processed. He was so focused on the crowd that he didn't hear the server standing at this table.

  "Sir?" the young man asked again.

  He casually looked up at the server, "I'm terribly sorry. Just taking in the sun and the scenery."

  The server was very formal, "Not a problem sir. Care to start with a beverage?"

  "What's the special of the day?" He pulled the cloth napkin from the table and carefully placed it on his lap.

  "We have an excellent poached salmon with dill..."

  He cut the server short, "Sounds great and a beer. Imported, anything.

  No, make it a Heineken. You have Heineken, don't you?"

  "We do sir, would you like..."

  He turned his attention back to the crowd and ignored whatever the server was saying. It's not that he purposely intended to dismiss the server, there was just so much to see before him, he didn't want anything to pass him by.

  Most of the crowd was a blur as they went passed, all the men, children and older women seemed to fade into the background. It was as if he had a special filter that permitted him to see only what he wanted. He likened his ability t
o only see a lone maple tree in a forest of evergreens. The women passed by in slow motion; their movements were almost frozen as he scanned what he wanted to observe then moved on to the next girl. He continued to look at the women's features, hands, arms, shoulders, legs. Waiting to see exactly what he wanted. His demands were precise, and he was willing to postpone any further action until the right one came along. Just beyond the sidewalk, vehicles silently rolled past, almost invisible to him. His mental filter managing again, somehow, to eliminate whatever he didn't want to see. All the sounds had been muted. He was so focused on his search; he heard nothing.

  He scanned the street, continuing his search, failing to notice the server returning with his drink and placing it before him. "Your meal will be out shortly."

  *****

  The server stood by the table for a moment then decided not to interrupt his customer's hobby. The last thing he wanted to do was potentially upset a customer and ruin his tip.

  The server returned to the kitchen, wiped his forehead free of perspiration with the towel he kept on his apron string, then tossed the soiled cloth into the linen hamper. "I've got this guy sitting in the corner of the patio just staring at the street. I've got no clue what the hell his problem is but man; he's a weirdo."

  Without looking up, one of the prep cooks asked, "Why? What's he doing?"

  "He's just staring out onto the street. I walked up, dropped off his beer, he didn't turn around, say "Boo", nothing. The guy is just weirding me out." The server found another towel and secured it to his apron.

  "As long as he likes his meal, pays for it and leaves a tip, who the fuck cares." The chef sprinkled some seasoning into the pan and stirred vigorously.

  "I know. But he's one of those customers who thinks that they are better than us."

  The chef laughed, "He's the one sitting outside enjoying the weather, and we're stuck in this hot kitchen working. I think he is better than us." He lifted the pan and poured the sauce over whatever was on the plate. "You want me to drop a booger in his food?" He laughed again.

  "You've never done it any other time I've asked, why start now?" "Exactly. Get your ass out there. Play nice with the idiot customers with the money, and I'll have your order ready in a few minutes." The chef turned his back on the server and went back to work.

  The server grabbed the plate, left the kitchen and delivered it to the customer who ordered it. As he left the table, he turned to the other table and found the man he was uncomfortable with, in the same position he left him. His Heineken was still untouched on the table. He kept his eye on the man as he swerved between tables, scooped up an empty glass, asked the customers if they wanted a refill and went back to the kitchen.

  He overfilled a clean glass with ice, used the fountain to put in a small amount of Diet Coke for the customer and carried it back out.

  The man sitting at the table hadn't moved. It was like a statue was in the man's place. The server was amazed that his customer had not even moved his arms, turned his head, he doubted the man even blinked. He set the glass on the table, asked if there was anything else he could do for them, then turned to look at his customer once again. The man sat motionless in his chair, his untouched beer still in the bottle, condensation dripping down onto the tablecloth.

  The server went back to the kitchen to find the customer's lunch on a plate, surrounded by grilled seasonal vegetables and a lemon wedge centered on the salmon steak. Without saying a word, he held the plate high and walked to the patio. He stood at the doorway, and the customer who ordered the salmon special was gone. He walked to the table to find the beer bottle resting atop a fifty-dollar bill. The server looked around and failed to find his customer anywhere on the patio. At least he didn't get taken for the meal. He grabbed the bottle, passed the hostess telling her he was taking five and returned to the kitchen to eat the salmon.

  *****

  He quickened his pace to almost an all-out sprint to catch up to the girl who passed him as he waited for his lunch. He weaved in and out of the crowd, occasionally bumping into people who walked too slow or just failed to get out of his way. His gaze was locked on the girl who was now less than thirty feet away. He pushed his way through a group of seniors, knocking one to the ground. Several bystanders yelled at him, others stopped to help the old woman on the ground, he ignored everyone and kept his target in sight.

  She slowed, turned left and stopped at a large window. She cupped her eyes and pressed her hands against the glass, raised one arm and waved at whoever was inside. She entered the coffee house and waved to her friends at the table then took her place in line to order.

  He broke from his sprint to a walk, keeping pace with the rest of the foot traffic on the sidewalk. At the coffee shop, without pausing, he followed her in, stood in line directly behind her, inches away and inhaled deeply. Her scent filled his senses. There was an overwhelming calm that filled his body as he stood there, almost touching her. As the line moved forward, she kept pace. He maintained minimal space between them, acting as if it was natural for him always to invade the personal space of others. He pulled his phone from his pocket pretending to check email or texts as he looked over the phone at the woman in front of him.

  The line moved forward again, the girl stepped forward to the counter, greeted the server, there were some laughs exchanged then she placed her order. The barista asked for the girl's name. "Katy, with one "T"." She scrawled the name on the cup in thick black letters. "What an idiotic thing to do," he thought. He now knew her first name, "Katy". Katy paid her bill and stepped to the side. He stepped forward, looked up at the menu board, and ordered a coffee and a chocolate scone.

  "What size coffee sir?" the barista asked.

  "Large is fine." His voice was pleasant, and he smiled back at the girl behind the counter. "And can you put milk and two sugar in that please?"

  The barista politely pointed to the end of the counter, "You can add whatever you like at the self-service area."

  He continued to smile, slid a ten-dollar bill across the counter and joined Katy in line as they waited for their orders. The barista placed the man's change before him, "Sir, your change." He turned to face her and winked. She nodded and put the change in the tip container. Another barista reached over the glass display case and handed the man his scone in a bag. He kept his distance from Katy in front of him and kept observing her. Like most of the other customers, she was busily clicking away on her smartphone. She was not only unaware of the other patrons but was completely uninterested in the man behind her.

  Katy's name was called out, and she picked up her drink and joined her friends at the table. Katy sat down, removed the lid from the cup, blew across the top and took a sip. She joined in the conversation with the rest of the girls around the table. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but all he was interested in was whether or not anyone of the girls at the table would take notice of him.

  He waited patiently for his name to be called, retrieved his drink, took a single table at the back of the coffee house facing the group, held his phone up high, looking beyond at Katy and her friends. Like an undercover detective, he would keep an eye on the target without giving away his presence or making himself known to the rest of the coffee house.

  He sipped his coffee, thumbed the blank screen, as he watched Katy. Patrons walked past, but he never saw them. The rest of the coffee house seemed to fade away, the bustle of the crowds gave way to silence. As he watched them, the room darkened, a single light shone overhead of the table when Katy sat. He focused solely on the table, the rest of the world disappeared.

  *****

  Nicole strolled out of the bedroom, held her arms out to the side, "Well?" "Are you going for the Annie Hall look? My God woman, you look like you're my grandma." Simone wasn't pulling her punches. "You hafta show a little something, something. You have a nice rack, show some cleavage." "I'm not even sure if this is a date or he just wants to talk to me some more about the visions." Nicole started
pulling some of her clothes off and tossing them to the ground. "And if it is a date, he must be hard up. Why me?"

  Simone began picking up the clothes that Nicole was tossing to the floor, "What's wrong with you? Of course, it's a date. If it wasn't, you'd be at the police station answering questions. Other than your self-loathing, you're a hottie."

  Nicole now stood before Simone only wearing her bra and panties. Simone stood, grabbed Nicole's hand and positioned her in front of the full-length mirror. Standing behind Nicole, Simone reached around and cupped her friend's breasts and pushed them up. "We have to get you another bra to show off these puppies. And, we have to find something to show off your curves. And get rid of these cotton panties. You want that cop to pat you down and feel those? Don't you have a thong or something sexy?"

  Nicole slapped Simone's hands off from her breasts, "You're the first one to touch these in a long time. And I doubt Paul and I will be getting naked tonight anyway. Like I said, it'll probably just be cop talk. I can't believe I asked him out. What was I thinking?"

  Simone started pulling out lingerie from the dresser drawer until she found a push-up bra and a lace purple thong. "If you were hoping to get laid, this is what you need." She tossed it to her friend. "Go put these on and let me see." While Nicole was in the washroom, Simone was sliding clothes along the rod in the closet. Simone finally found what she was looking for.

  Nicole emerged from the washroom wearing what Simone had picked out, slowly turning around to see if it met her friend's approval.

  "Whoa woman, you have a nice ass. And now you have some cleavage to show off too. Nice." Simone handed Nicole the black dress she found in the closet and helped her put it on. "There you go. No panty lines and it shows off your bod."

  "I haven't worn this in years. It's too tight."

  "It isn't tight honey; it's just right to show what you have. Pair this with some black heels and that man will want you to finish dinner early and get you outta that dress pronto." Simone had her hands around Nicole's waist to smooth out the lines. Simone patted her down, "There you go. Look in the mirror."

 

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