Anna ignored her sister, went outside, and stamped her foot near the door. “I smell blood! That could be us next!” She walked back to Gloria.
“We need to activate our practice. Nothing is impossible,” Gloria said.
“I don’t want to hear that word!” Anna shouted.
“You don’t believe nothing is impossible?” Gloria said.
“You use the word at a bad time, Gloria. This is not the time to find your version of possibility. What Benjamin is offering is a possibility. It’s to be safe while he does his job,” Anna said firmly.
“Let’s just calm down here. We’re all agitated,” Benjamin intervened.
“Even that should be just enough of a reason to make you think, Gloria,” Anna said. She touched her sister’s shoulders. “We’re not standing here for another five minutes. Let’s go.” Anna’s frustration was evident.
“Then you can go,” Gloria said in a steady voice.
“Oh, here we go again!” Anna exclaimed as she put her hands up in the air and let them rest on top of her head, all while walking around the motel room for a few moments. She stopped and turned back to Gloria. “You don’t have to prove anything.”
“What?” Gloria responded, apparently surprised by her sister’s statement. “I am not trying to prove anything to anyone.”
“I accept your disability. I always did, and never judged you. I always looked up to you,” Anna said to her.
“We’re not talking about me being blind, here. We are talking about your life,” Gloria pressed.
“This is worse than being held hostage, this is manipulation!” Anna said loudly.
“You can go. I will stay,” Gloria said once more.
“We are both adults here. Let’s think rational,” Anna pleaded.
Benjamin rubbed his forehead. “I have to respect her wishes. We won’t go to L.A..”
Anna shook her head several times, shifting back and forth between Benjamin and Gloria. “No. No. We can still try to talk some sense into her. We can,” she eagerly said.
Gloria remained reserved. “We cannot stay here any longer.”
“Nothing will get through to you. I know you very well. This is not the time for you to have a stubborn streak,” Anna said sharply.
“We will not let our practice go to waste,” Gloria said.
“Why are you doing this?” Anna said anxiously.
“Anna, you use it every day. I’m just making you focus on it intensely. I’m not going to force you,” Gloria replied.
“Please let’s get out of here, across the country. Not for my sake, but for yours,” Anna pleaded. “Lets get out of here.”
“All right! All right!” Gloria raised her voice, and then nodded her head. “I don’t want to argue with you, Anna.” She turned to find Benjamin’s voice. “Benjamin?”
“Yes,” he replied in a neutral tone of voice.
“I feel like an idiot right now. What I did is dangerous and sounds immature. I understand your frustration, but that was not my intention.” She turned to Anna. “And Anna, when everything else fails, you don’t give up. You don’t give in. You find a way to succeed in whatever goal is in front of you. Since I’m not the one who is in great danger, I will respect your decision. Let’s go to L.A., all right. Again, I am not going to argue with you.”
Gloria moved her cane to the nearest bed, where she sat down. She put her hand on her head for a moment, then got up again seconds later. “Do you have our luggage? Everything? Did you check underneath the bed for anything that may have rolled under there?”
Anna went towards Gloria. “I have everything.” She crossed her arms, and looked at the window behind Gloria while in deep thoughts. “And I also have hope.”
“I want you alive and well. You both feel strongly about L.A., so maybe I need to come to my senses about this.”
Anna touched her hand. “Gloria...”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. There’s nothing to feel sorry about. Let’s go. Benjamin, you can take over. We won’t stand in your way,” Gloria insisted.
“Wait,” Anna said abruptly. “We’re continuing until further notice. If our plan using our senses doesn’t work, we will quickly pull the plug on it. Besides, I don’t want to do anything and let them have a chance of finding me after a few months of hiding. You never know.”
“I’m curious to know what you are going to do, and how you are going to do it,” Benjamin said while stepping inside the room.
“We’re using our senses,” Gloria said.
Benjamin gave her a questioning look.
“It’s better explained through action,” Gloria quickly added.
“Which car should we take?” Anna asked Benjamin.
“The car I have is a rental,” he said.
“We’ll take yours then,” she replied.
Fourteen minutes later, FBI Agents Sanchez and Henderson arrived at the Crown Inn Motel. Having surpassed several caution strips, they entered the motel and went to the floor where the fatal scene occurred. They both took out their notepads and interviewed the hotel manager, who had witnessed the scene.
“Can you please tell me what you saw?” Special Agent Sanchez asked.
“I was coming to inspect a report of a broken air conditioner when, all of a sudden, I heard a noise outside,” the manager explained. “I quickly opened the door, and saw several people running after a man who had blood on him. The man was banging on a door, and then fell to the floor. Everyone crowded around him.”
“Did someone open the door which he banged on?” Special Agent Henderson asked.
“Two women,” the manager said.
“Are they average height? One an inch smaller than the other? One with her hair tied in a ponytail with some hair covering her forehead?” Special Agent Sanchez asked.
“Yes, she matched the description you’re asking me about,” the manager replied.
“Did the other one have a white cane? The kind blind people use?” Special Agent Sanchez asked.
“Yes, she was holding it while standing behind the other woman,” the manager replied.
“Did you or your staff workers give her another motel room upstairs, or reimburse her with a free motel somewhere else? The address will help,” Special Agent Henderson said.
“To put them at ease, I went upstairs to tell them that they could stay for free in another Crown Inn Motel at some other location. Officers then started to arrive. An occupant gathering her belongings told me the two women willingly left with a man,” the manager stated.
“Dammit!” Special Agent Sanchez said.
“Let’s go now,” Special Agent Henderson added.
CHAPTER 13—UNCLEAR
Monica parked her car in the busy area of 66th St and Broadway in Manhattan, New York, and walked onto the sidewalk. A car honked three times behind her, which made several people turn to look.
“Going home?” Philip said loud enough for her to hear.
Monica turned around to see who was talking to her. Philip got out of his car, which was now parked behind hers. “I need to go to the store to pick up a few things before they close. Heading back to New Jersey now?” Monica asked.
“Yes, I had to get something myself before heading home to Maplewood.” Philip clutched his blazer jacket and walked towards her. “You were pretty shaken up after that freak accident.”
“Accident?” Monica questioned.
Philip tried to elaborate. “After our luncheon meeting…”
“Yes, yes, I know what you’re talking about. Who wouldn’t be?”
“You just looked more shaken up than the others around the scene,” he observed.
“I knew him, you know. He was a former worker of mine. He started when I first established Red Cloak Group, but let’s not discuss any more of this matter in public,” Monica replied sternly.
“Then I won’t keep you long,” Philip conceded.
“See you later this week,” Monica said and went on with her business.
They walked in opposite directions. Monica reached the end of the block, turned another corner, and headed to the store. She felt the air become cooler, and put both her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Hearing a sound like keys on a ring, she began to slow her pace. As the sound of dangling keys continued, she made a sudden stop and almost stumbled upon a crack in the sidewalk. She looked down at the slight hole, then turned her head to view the sidewalk in front of her and on both sides. The clean, smooth pavement, which continued all the way down to the end of the block, gleamed from the night lamps on the street. The sound of keys continued, and Monica became uneasy. There was less traffic on her left side, and people were closing their shops on the right side of the block. With the sound unabating, she turned her head enough to look back. Several people were walking behind her, and a couple came out of a bookstore. Monica resumed looking straight ahead, then shifted her head slightly to view any keys in each couple’s hands. No keys in sight. Another small group of people left a store and was now walking in front of her. She glanced at each individual’s hands. No keys in any of their hands, either; just a cell phone in one person’s palm. The sound didn’t stop. There were many lights on in each apartment building, and shadows of people moved around near their apartment windows. She observed flickering of televisions in many windows as well. One elderly person stood from his window staring at Monica, who decided to continue walking while dialing Philip. He picked up after a couple of rings.
“Yes, you reached the store safely?” Philip said on the other end of the line.
“Tell me something: You’re playing a trick on me, aren’t you?” Monica said with frustration in her voice.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Get some sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow,” Philip replied.
“The keys. The sound,” an agitated Monica said.
“What about those things?” Philip asked.
“I’m not dumb. Don’t you think I know that in the end, every person is for themselves? What do you want from me so you can stop undermining me and get on with your plan?”
“Wait, wait, wait! Are you telling me this is happening again?”
“I just heard them. I’m not paranoid, Philip. I’m not crazy…”
“No one said you are,” Philip replied on his end.
“You are here; you are doing this to me?” Monica asked in rage. She gazed around looking for Philip’s car, but it did not appear before her eyes.
“Why would you think it’s me? I may be an idiot in some cases, but in this sick way? No one deserves what you’re experiencing.”
“I... I’m sorry.” Monica shook her head, even more confused and irritated.
“Eliminate your own keys, how about that suggestion?” Philip said.
Without noticing, Monica passed the store she had been heading to. All of a sudden, the sound of keys stopped.
“You stopped the sound. It is you!” a furious Monica said, only to become confused seconds later. “Is it you?”
“Take a pill. I beg of you, and sleep when you get home. I’m going to take an aspirin because you’re giving me a headache with your accusations. You need to sleep. Get some rest,” Philip said and hung up.
Monica placed her hand on top of her head. Forcefully, she put her cell phone down in her purse, then held her hands over her ears. The sound came back. A baker came out from a bakery near Monica, and inserted a key to lock the store while his other keys kept clashing together on the key ring.
“Stop that sound!” Monica wailed loudly.
“I have to close my store.”
Monica slowly put her hands down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react this way,” she said quickly in an attempt to preempt an uncomfortable reaction to her behavior.
“This is the city that never sleeps. You hear anything, and sometimes it plays a trick on you. Take care,” the baker said with a smile.
Monica shot a disgusted look. “Do you mean, have a good evening or a good night? When you say ‘take care’, it sounds as if there’s something wrong with me and I need to stay healthy. I am not healthy? You’re contrasting your words. You don’t want to say something because I am a stranger, right?”
“Whatever, lady. Have a good night, then.” The baker quickly walked forward, glancing three times at Monica before turning a corner.
Monica stood still by the closed bakery store, and now she put both hands on her cheeks. I have gone too far. I have never argued like this with a stranger. Philip is right, I need rest. The cold air added more discomfort to what she was already feeling, but the sound stopped. She clenched her coat, walked quickly to her car, locked the door, and turned the heat on. She sat still for a few minutes executing a relaxation technique by rubbing her temples before she drove off.
CHAPTER 14—UNSAID
A nurse walked into the patient’s room with FBI Special Agents Sanchez and Henderson. The heavily medicated, wounded man glanced at her and then looked at the two men. The Special Agents moved past a wheelchair near the door, crossed the floor, and then stood by his bedside. Eric lay on a bed with machines behind him, and a chipboard-finished three-drawer chest stood on each of his bed. The curtain sheets clumped together on his far left. He did not ask any questions, nor did he look confused at the strangers. The nurse remained at the door, and the wounded man knew who he was now dealing with before the FBI agents showed their badges.
Once the agents were by his bedside, the nurse closed the door, and Eric Epson – a man in his early thirties – stared at the two men.
FBI Agent Henderson held up his badge and read Eric his Miranda’s Rights.
“Mr. Eric Epson, I would like a couple of words with you,” Special Agent Sanchez said subsequently.
Eric glanced at both men again with weakened eyes. He touched his V-shaped eyebrows and then his forehead before putting his hand back down on his bed sheet. Special Agent Henderson viewed Eric’s thick bandage on his side.
“Pretty deep wound,” the agent observed.
Eric didn’t utter a word.
“Someone really wanted you dead,” Henderson added.
“I’m just glad to be alive,” Eric said.
“Mr. Epson, what is your occupation?” Special Agent Sanchez asked.
“I deal with computers,” Eric quickly answered.
“I don’t need to know your job description, I want to know your job title,” Sanchez said.
Eric took a moment to speak. “Computer Security Specialist.”
“What’s the name of the company you work for?” Sanchez went on.
Eric hesitated. “I’m a freelancer.”
Special Agent Sanchez turned to his colleague. “Let’s see here. We have a computer specialist who was stabbed and sent to this hospital. As it turned out, he is also suspected of murdering a man who was part of a cybercriminal organization.”
Special Agent Henderson turned to Eric. “What are you, a hacker?”
Eric looked at the FBI agents’ stern facial expressions and slowly spoke. “Yes. I’m a hacker.”
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere,” Special Agent Sanchez said. “Let me get this straight: yesterday, you were in the Crown Inn motel, where – I might add – two sisters involved in an ongoing murder investigation were staying, and we suspect you also killed a man in front of one of the women’s door.”
“Eric, can you explain a collection of keys on the dead body in front of that door a few days earlier?” Special Agent Henderson asked.
“I don’t follow,” Eric said.
“A hacker died days before your mentor was murdered; a hacker who goes by the name Lucky,” Special Agent Sanchez informed him.
“Lucky?” Eric said as he turned to face the hospital door straight ahead of him.
The FBI agents tried to read Eric’s facial expression while he didn’t speak for a second.
“Who would kill Lucky? He has nothing to do with anything,” Eric said as he shifted his attention back to the officers.
“You knew him well,” Sanchez declared.
“I.. I did not really know him well, no,” Eric claimed.
“Were you in some group online? Some hacking group?” Special Agent Henderson questioned.
“I, um, I usually do things alone,” Eric replied.
“On occasions when you didn’t, were you or were you not in a hacking group crashing websites and stealing people’s identities?” Henderson went on.
Eric kept quiet.
“According to the people I’ve spoken to, you specialize in polymorphic codes, right?” Special Agent Sanchez said.
Eric continued his silence.
“You know, telling the truth will go a long way toward decreasing your sentence. Lying can add more to it,” Sanchez added.
“I was a member of a group; and yes, I knew him, but not too well,” Eric replied.
“Because?”
“He was a web designer for the team, and that was not my expertise,” Eric responded.
“Lucky was murdered, Eric, and you’re our prime suspect. Maybe Lucky got in your way, and you needed to get rid of him. Then someone tried to kill you. You knew they somehow suspected you’d end up in police custody and give away any privileged information you have,” Special Agent Sanchez theorized.
“No,” Eric responded.
“Explain the keys on Lucky’s chest,” Sanchez continued.
“Listen, I had nothing to do with Lucky’s death! How can I have an answer if I wasn’t there?” Eric said. “I don’t know anything about a collection of keys. I only need two pairs of keys to open my car and apartment door. Lucky must have been a pawn for someone,” Eric said.
“You seem to know that he must have been a pawn,” Special Agent Henderson said.
“Why can’t I simply be logical?” Eric replied.
“Because you’re a murder suspect, that’s why.”
“How do you know he was a pawn?” Special Agent Sanchez added.
“I believe he was a pawn. How do I make it clearer for you two?” Eric was quiet for a second, then spoke again. “Gregory, the guy who fell down from the hotel building, was Lucky’s mentor. Gregory was also my mentor. Why someone would want to kill us all, I don’t know.”
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