by Lada Ray
“Very impressive,” I said. “I never realized that underneath Jack's exterior there was such passion.”
“Well put,” said Linda. “He really does have a lot of passion, which is only obvious to those who take the time to get to know him. Actually, that's what I wanted to discuss with you.”
“I'm listening.”
“Well, our paper is planning a series of articles on the new generation of movers and shakers in our community, the bright future of Stepford, so to speak. Jack Maloof is one of them. See, Jack has recently taken over the management of his company, Virtual Reality Research and Development, from his father, who's seriously ill. I don't know if you know this, but Jack is a bonified genius and has been the brains behind his company for some time now. But now he is also the front man. Jack graduated from Harvard summa cum laude and registered over a dozen patents already. Rumor has it that the company has recently landed a large contract with the U.S. military and it would be interesting to have his success story in the paper. The other candidate is Marc Catcham, our most prominent young attorney, who is also running for State Senate. Plus, Nick Nordini, our new chief. Also, Peter Burns and, possibly, one or two other people. Of course, your suggestions are always welcome. So, what do you think?” Linda looked at me inquiringly.
“Sounds like a good plan,” I agreed. “But what does it have to do with me?”
“I want you to write the stories.”
“Me?!” I was surprised, mostly, by the strange coincidence. She wanted me to write stories about the exact same people who were on my suspect list. Was someone, yet again, trying to tell me something?
“Yes, you,” nodded Linda. “I think it would be perfect. “A prominent journalist, who is currently making our town her residence, writing about the prominent members of our community.”
“Thanks, but I don't think I am that prominent.” I said.
“I disagree, I think you are too modest. You are quite prominent,” she said seriously, and then added, “well, especially by our standards.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said, chuckling. But I understood her and didn't really mind.
She realized that what she probably meant as a sincere compliment came out wrong and quickly corrected herself. “What I mean is that our readers would be thrilled to read your stories. Besides, there is one other, selfish consideration on my part.”
“Oh? What's that?”
“See, you are new in town. You know, how someone who'd lived in the same place for a long time stops noticing the interesting, the unusual and starts seeing things that are not even there.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I said. “I sometimes refer to it as a soaped up eye. In other words, a tired eye.”
“Exactly. When yours is fresh, you are more likely to see what needs to be seen and notice what needs to be noticed. This project is very important and I really want your fresh eye.” Linda looked at me searchingly. “So, what do you think?”
I was struck by her reference to the fresh eye, because that's exactly how I felt about Jason and Rebbecca. It seemed, people here all looked at that old crime with a tired eye and as a result, they couldn't see the obvious.
“So, do we have a deal?” insisted Linda.
It appeared, destiny was sending me an opportunity to talk to my “suspects” eye to eye under a very legitimate pretext. The decision wasn’t a very hard one.
“It sounds like a good idea,” I said. “I'll do it.”
“Great!” Linda looked happy.
“On one condition. I will only write the truth.”
“That goes without saying.”
“And I'll need complete freedom. If I do interview them, they have to be ready to answer my questions. Please inform them to avoid surprises.”
“Consider it done.”
“But so you know, sometimes I prefer to observe my subjects unobserved. So, if I end up not scheduling an interview with either of them, don't be surprised. It simply means I'm taking that route.”
“Sort of undercover,” smiled Linda understandingly. “Smart! You can often learn more that way.”
Chapter 17
I needed to do some thinking, so I set out towards the town's place of respite and reflection, Hidden Lake, which, as I was explained, was a mere twenty minute walk from my house. On the way, I passed by Adelaide's house and a thought of dropping by to say hello crossed my mind. But in the end, I decided not to disrupt my meditation.
After the road ended, I proceeded to the meandering dirt path, which snaked in the direction of the water amongst a mixture of oaks, birches and pines. The path took me close to the shore, past a scenic landing surrounded by rocks and shrubbery and then, to a more secluded portion of the lake, where a large community of ducks splashed in the water and luxuriated in the sun. The ducks resting on warm stones raised their heads as I approached, but quickly went back to sleep, while the others swam excitedly in my direction, hoping for a treat. Unfortunately, I had no food with me, so they turned away, disappointed.
All of a sudden, ducks on the shore got to their feet, quacking in alarm, and the ones in the water swam away as fast as they could. I peered back along the partially hidden path, trying to figure out the nature of the disturbance, when I noticed a familiar German Shepherd in hot pursuit of poor ducks. He came to the shore, panting excitedly, but realized that his prize outsmarted him and began barking, venting his frustration.
“James, no!” His owner's voice followed suit. I watched with a chuckle as Dan ran out of the tall grasses, trying to catch the illusive leash that got away from him, when the dog bolted. James was preparing to dive into the lake to continue his pursuit, as Dan, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face, managed to catch on and reacquire possession of the treacherous leash. The ducks spread their wings and flew off with indignant quacking. After admonishing James, Dan sighed with relief. Then, he turned around and finally noticed me.
“Jade?” he said, smiling sheepishly.
“Hi Dan,” I chuckled back at him. “Looks like James is disappointed.”
“I am afraid,” he said, addressing the dog, “for the second time in a row we are not making a very good impression on Jade. What do you think, James?”
James was silent.
“He is a very good dog,” he addressed me. “But has two weaknesses.”
“Let me guess what those are,” I said, laughing. “Cats and ducks, right?”
“What gave it away?” grinned Dan.
“Woof?” echoed James.
“Oh, I don't know,” I said. “A thing or two...”
James already forgot about the duck fiasco and approached me to receive his share of petting.
“This is such a nice park,” I said, stroking James's fur.
“Yes, it's always been my favorite. James and I take walks here practically every day. Sometimes we come late at night, so James can swim and run around to his heart's desire. There is plenty of space and it's quite private in this portion of the park even during the day.”
“Really? I should visit it more often, especially when I need privacy. This place is so peaceful.”
“Yes,” nodded Dan. “Now it is, once more.”
“What do you mean, once more?”
“Didn't you know? It's so private because few people venture in this direction any more... after what happened here thirteen years ago. Haven't you heard the story?”
“You mean Rebbecca? It happened here?”
“Well, not quite. That would be a couple of hundred feet from here, if you follow this path along the lake. There is a small, secluded area, called the Lovers' Clearing, which in those days was used by the young people as a romantic spot. I myself,” Dan gave an embarrassed cough, “used it... um... you know, during high school. Of course, now hardly anyone comes there any more... because, well... because it's considered bad luck. And if you continue on for another hundred feet or so, that would be where it happened. James and I usually don't go that far.”
“That way?” I pointed straight ahead.
“Yes,” said Dan. “But you are not planning on going there alone, are you?”
“Why not,” I said, shrugging easily. “After all, the odds of lightning striking twice in the same spot are very low. I'm sure it's completely safe.”
“Well, that may be.” He hesitated. “Still, it would be better if James and I accompanied you. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” I said. “The more the merrier.”
The overgrown path meandered on until we reached a clearing surrounded by blooming lilac bushes, which gave out the most exquisitely intoxicating scent imaginable, and a weeping willow hanging over the water. I noticed a small and rather dilapidated looking boat tied to a post, which probably hadn’t been in use since the old romantic days. Overall, the atmosphere was quite idyllic. No wonder, it used to be the preferred make out spot for local kids. But I also felt some residual melancholy permeating the air – unfortunately, not so conducive to kissing. Pity.
We walked a little further. The atmosphere there was quite different. Something oppressive, sinister hung in the air.
“We usually don't go this far...” started Dan, and his voice sounded strangely hollow.
I interrupted him. “Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
“The oppression in the air?”
“I...um...” He blinked, unsure how to respond.
But James's reaction was unmistakable. All of a sudden the huge and powerful dog started making pitiful, mournful sounds, his tail between his legs. He looked at Dan and me imploringly and his expressive dark eyes were saying, “Let's get out of here guys, I don't like it.” James sniffed the ground restlessly, all the while whining and trying to entice us to leave this unpleasant spot.
“James, what is it?” said Dan.
“He feels it,” I said quietly. “I think, this is the spot.”
I closed my eyes and stood still for a moment, hoping to see what happened here thirteen years ago. Nothing came. Probably James's restlessness was a distracting factor. Should I come back by myself some other day? Although the place was giving me the creeps and it was good to have company. I was already opening my eyes, when I saw a glimmer of something.
I firmly closed my eyes again and there it was, in a flash. Night. Lake. The young woman in a desperate struggle for her life. She is on her back on damp ground, the lake glistening in the moonlight, the dark, silent bushes around her. A heavy hand slaps her hard - once, then again and again, until she bleeds. Her attacker is in a rage, but there is someone else, helping him to subdue her. They look and sound like young men and they are very, very drunk. There is a third man standing in front of them. He doesn't participate in the beating and rape - he just stands there. But why, oh, why can't I see their faces?
I opened my eyes with a sharp intake of breath and would have fallen, if Dan didn't come to my rescue.
“Are you okay?” His voice sounded alarmed. His strong arm hugged my waist for support.
“F-fine,” I gulped, trying to recover from what I just saw. The visions were getting more and more powerful – and draining.
“You are not fine! Just look how pale you are,” he objected. “This place is draining you and James is restless for a reason. I think this might be the place where Rebbecca, you know...”
Well, it looked like Dan finally caught on.
“I think you might be right.” I attempted a weak smile. The man was a bit slow on the uptake, but at least, he was there.
“We better get out of here,” said Dan resolutely.
No argument from me. I threw one last glance around and noticed a stretch of dense woods with orange “No trespassing” signs plastered to the trees.
“Whose property is that?” I asked.
“That must be the beginning of the Maloof property. The elder Maloof owns a mansion on the opposite shore. Something like forty acres and the whole western part of the lake.”
“So, does Jack live with his father?” I asked casually, as we started walking back.
“No, he built himself a modern house on his father's estate by the water. If you look closely, you can see part of his roof showing through vegetation.” Dan pointed past the “No trespassing” signs, where the meandering path all but disappeared nearly swallowed by the tall grass. “See?”
I focused on the spot Dan was pointing at and saw a vague outline of a modern-looking, angular roof that peaked through the lush green.
“He has his own small beach and a few boats in a little bay hidden behind the lake’s bend,” explained Dan.
As we walked back to civilization, it progressively felt brighter and easier to breath. James's tail was back up, wagging with its usual enthusiasm and I felt as if a heavy load had gradually melted off my shoulders.
We finally emerged onto a street and Dan insisted on accompanying me all the way to my house. We stood in front of it and I said gratefully, “Thank you, Dan and James for coming with me to that place. You were right, there is something there. I felt much more secure with the two of you.”
“Any time,” said Dan, and James seconded that, his long pink tongue hanging all the way out.
“Well, I should go,” I said, shaking Dan's hand, followed by James's paw. “Thanks again.”
“Jade, wait,” started Dan. “Um... what would you say if I invited you out to dinner tonight?”
“I am flattered,” I responded, taken aback. “But it's probably not such a good idea. Even though my husband is half across the globe on a business trip, I'm still married, you see.”
“If I was your husband,” he said wistfully, “I would've never left you alone, business trip or not.”
Chapter 18
Virtual Reality Research and Development, VRRD, Inc., was located on the very outskirts of Stepford. It was a large, grey concrete building. The contemporary angular architectural details were in abundance. The architect's idea was evidently to showcase the futuristic element in Jack's enterprise, but the resulting effect was surreal and chaotic at best. I walked past the hedges, trimmed neatly, but so severely that they conveyed an impression of a topiary crew cut. The glass revolving door led into a spacious, empty lobby from where the secretary led me into Jack's office on the upper floor.
“Yes, Linda told me you might be stopping by,” he said, a resounding echo accompanying his words.
I glanced around. An enormous glass desk was plunked in the middle of a cavernous space with vaulted ceiling that disappeared somewhere far up. The style was minimalist to the extreme, the whole oversized space sorely lacking a woman's touch.
At first, I had trouble recognizing the man, who stood up to greet me. He was serious and proud. The CEO of VRRD was a completely different Jack Maloof than the one the knitting club thought of condescendingly as a nerdy misfit. It was his domain, he was king and god here, and it showed.
“So, what would you like to talk about?” He addressed me without preambles, clearing a nondescript notebook off his desk and turning off his computer. I gazed into the face of this man I've obviously misjudged.
“I was very impressed with your presentation at the Rotary Club the other day,” I said truthfully.
“Thank you,” he inclined his head lightly, acknowledging my compliment in a brief, dignified movement.
“I would love to learn more about your work,” I started enthusiastically - and I wasn't faking it. “Your projects are extremely cutting edge, as far as I can see. I'd love to write about you and I'm sure our readers would love to learn about the fascinating, futuristic stuff taking place right here, in our own backyard.”
“Sounds good,” he nodded, an indulgent smile curving his lips. “How do you want to begin?”
“I was thinking, first I'd like to see your lab, the place where the magic happens, so to speak. And it would be great if you showed me your latest accomplishments so I could experience what you do first hand. Then, we could sit down and talk.”
“I see.”
He frowned.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not a problem per se, but a complication.”
“Oh?”
“See, Linda mentioned an interview only, but it appears we are looking at a demonstration here.”
“Well, certainly! I thought, because of the nature of your business - very visual - it would be better to show, rather than tell.”
“The only problem is, our current work is for the military, highly classified, and I can't take you to the lab. That would be a breach of contract.”
“I see,” I said, disappointment in my voice so pronounced that even the usually aloof Jack heard it.
“Well,” he said, smiling enigmatically. “There is another possibility.”
“Yes?” I leaned forward hopefully.
“We can look at a private project I've been working on for some time now. I can't show you everything, but you'll get the idea.”
“Of course,” I said. “I'd be very interested.”
“It's the prototype.” He handed me a slick, hand held device with a number of buttons on it and a heavy helmet with panoramic view goggles, joined together by wires.
“Now,” he explained with a glimmer of pride in his eye. “You are looking at the VRP1, or Virtual Reality Pet 1, the first of its kind and the prototype of my personal Pet.”
He stroked the device tenderly. “This little baby will revolutionize the computer gaming industry. With it, you won't be just watching a game on a screen, you'll be in it – literally. No tricks, no gimmicks. Smack in the middle of action. You'll experience the tastes, the smells, the sensations, as if you were actually there. Possibilities are endless. You could be a man or a woman, an animal or an insect. You could be whoever or whatever you desire. This is well beyond game. It is a complete virtual reality experience.”
“Fascinating,” I said truthfully. “But how does it work?”
“In order to have an experience, all you have to do is put this helmet on and press one of the buttons. This control panel, as you can see, has a number of buttons color coded to represent different experiences.”