Flutter

by L. E. Green

  “Yes. I can smell it. I’m starving. Thank you. Is it okay if I take a shower first? I feel a little icky.”

  “Of course. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done. I left a red towel for you in the bathroom.” Roger stood up and walked away. Abigail watched the muscles in his back flex from behind his tank top. When did Roger grow muscles? She thought about how much Roger had matured since they first met. His jokes and insults slowly turned into compliments, kind words and small acts of chivalry. She didn’t really think about them until today. When she looked back, for the past month or so he had been treating her differently. She thought about it for a moment but shrugged it off as a misinterpretation of signs at a confusing time in her life.

  Abigail picked up her backpack, walked out of the room, entered the bathroom and shut the door.

  POLICE HEADQUARTERS

  Finch and Brown drove back to the station separately. Chief Downy wanted a face to face debriefing of the information that had been collected at Chapel and Case. There was a lot of pressure coming down from the mayor and commissioner about cleaning this up quickly and quietly. The cloud service was great for collecting data, but Downy was still old school and wanted to hear about the detectives’ gut feelings and wanted a face–to–face interpretation and update. And though he had immediate access to her notes, he believed that not all information should be shared via an Internet–based shared file system.

  Finch and Brown parked in the lot and walked in together. They did not speak to one another as they went up the stairs to the second floor. Brown sipped coffee from his thermos. The staff was very busy as there had been a shooting in Mattapan and another in Dorchester that same night. It was speculated that two rival bike gangs were hashing it out over race winnings. Two men had been arrested thus far.

  Finch knocked on the chief’s glass door. He waved for them to come in.

  “So what do we have?” Downy got straight to the point.

  Brown spoke, “We have a left forearm of a john potentially 5’11 to 6’1 in height. We made an observation of a tan line on one finger which we figured sported a ring at some point. The guard confirmed it was the arm of the Robert Benson, according to what he knew about the short finger and tan line of the ring.”

  Finch butted in, “We are still trying to get DNA samples to confirm, but we are pretty sure that we have his arm. Benson was the COO of Chapel and Case and has been missing for about two weeks.”

  Downy wanted more information, “Tell me about Benson.”

  “We haven’t got much information on him yet. We’ve been chasing down this window washer who found the arm,” Brown said.

  “And we met with him this morning. Confiscated some evidence that we will bring down to the lab.” Finch was nervous because she knew that getting information on Benson was essential, but they still didn’t have enough to evidence to close the case.

  Brown added, “Finch made an observation that this may be connected with the Alan Jiang murder case in Portland. It could be sheer coincidence, but it’s odd that both the company CEO and COO end up missing.”

  “But remember, sir. We still don’t have a body, so technically this is a missing persons case, not a homicide,” Finch wanted to be clear.

  Downy said, “I know; but by the looks of it, we will find a dead body soon enough. No one is walking around with that type of amputation, without seeking medical care and living to tell the story. Check the local hospitals within a 50 mile radius and see if anything comes up. Ask if anyone with an amputated arm came in. I know he was ID’d by the guard, but get me some DNA. I feel like this case is going to go off the deep end.”

  “Thanks.” Finch was no longer nervous.

  Downy said, “Excellent job on the spreadsheet. I may have you host a training session on this in a couple of weeks after everything calms down.”

  “Definitely! Anything you need.” Finch was feeling better after hearing Downy’s comment.

  They left the office.

  Finch said to Brown, “I’m gonna go to my desk, do a little research and call those hospitals.”

  “Ok, no problem. You know where to find me.”

  They turned their backs to each other and walked away.

  BATHROOM

  The lower half of the bathroom was constructed of white ceramic subway tile. The upper half was painted canary yellow; the sink and tub had stainless steel fixtures. The bathroom had a two by three foot window with textured translucent glass held tight between the frames. Abigail reached into the tub and turned on the water. She took the clothes she intended to wear and placed them on a little chair on the side of the room. She grabbed her tooth brush, brushed her teeth, took off her clothes and got into the steamy water.

  As she showered, the water steamed up the bathroom to the point where her vision was only inches in front of her. Abigail was wet and naked and soapy. She whipped her head around as if she had heard someone moving behind her. She looked left and right. She had heard something but couldn’t place its location. She remembered her dream where she was free falling into the fog. She heard a faint growl and a wolf’s howl. She rinsed off, stepped out of the tub and made her way to the other side of the bathroom, finding the door. Her heart was pounding. She thought someone or something was behind her. She opened the door and a swift breeze released the steam from the room. She quickly reclosed the door when she remembered her nakedness would be exposed. Abigail was afraid and panting as if she had just run a mile and could barely catch her breath.

  Her nightmares were now interfering with real life. They were emerging from the night and now clouding her mind, obscuring what was real from what was not. Abigail could only imagine what would happen if it got worse. She was losing her mind. She leaned against the door and banged her head three times hoping she could knock some sense into herself.

  Roger knocked on the door. “You find everything ok, Elvis?”

  Abigail tried to pull it together. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m okay. I’ll… I’ll be out. Just give me a minute. I’m almost dressed.”

  “Ok. Just checking up on you.”

  They both stood on either side of the door, wanting to say more, but didn’t. Roger hesitated, but then shook it off and walked back into the kitchen.

  Abigail grabbed the towel to dry herself. She dried her legs and worked her way up her body. She then applied lotion to her feet, legs and arms. Roger’s bathroom had two mirrors almost directly across from one another which created the eerie optical illusion of reflections like one would see in a House of Mirrors at a county fair. Who would do this? She looked at her hair and brushed it to the side. She rarely wore it back. She looked closely at her face, inspecting it for pimples. Then she noticed something she had never seen before. She could see a reflection of her back in the mirror behind her, a sight she hadn’t seen in God knows how long. Though there was a mist in the room and condensation on the glass, she could see that there was a string of tattoos running down her spine. “What the hell?”

  She took a towel and wiped down the window so she could get a better look. She investigated the markings by twisting her body around. Her everyday garb of hoodies and turtle necks covered up her back and she had never noticed the markings. She grabbed a hand held mirror from the shelf. “What the hell is this?”

  Amazed at her discovery, Abigail quickly got dressed and ran to the kitchen. Roger could tell something was wrong but didn’t say anything right away. She met him eye to eye with a glance. She took off her shirt. He wasn’t sure where this was going and began to sweat. She turned around. She moved her wet hair over her shoulder. Roger dropped a spoon on the stove and slowly walked over. He examined the tattoos. He put his left hand on her shoulder and lightly ran his index finger down her back.

  “What are these?”

  “I don’t know! I didn’t even know they were there until just now.”

  “You never saw them?”

  “No! When was the last time you looked at your back? And that little ass mir
ror at Frankie’s… I don’t remember anything about these.”

  The tattoos were small icons no bigger than a quarter, stacked one above the other. Roger continued to touch them lightly with his hand.

  “Hold on.” Roger ran into his room and grabbed his iPhone. He began taking pictures of the small tattoos on her back. One by one he snapped the pictures so that she could get a better view of each picture.

  Finding those markings made Abby even more uncomfortable with her memory loss and her body. “Who tampered with me? Who did this?” she thought to herself. Even Frankie hadn’t noticed them when he dressed her wounds the night he found her in the alley. Once again, she felt vulnerable in front of Roger. She had showed Roger another mystery about herself, and now a new project had begun. Roger downloaded the pictures onto his computer and printed them out. Abigail looked at the images one by one, but none registered any meaning to her. Unfortunately, the process of rediscovering who she was only made the nightmares worse.

  ANOTHER DREAM

  Abigail took a midday nap after her breakfast, a half movie and a few minutes of staring at the images on her back. When she fell asleep, she slipped into another nightmare. She was strapped to a medical table on a mountaintop. Her arms, legs and midsection were strapped down to the table. Her mouth was stuffed and tied. She looked left and right investigating her surroundings. Her body is bloody and bruised. A Harpy Eagle, known for its deadly talons, swooped down and landed on her stomach. Its long black talons pierced into her belly, ripping into her organs. She tried to scream but there was no sound. The eagle flew away and the wounds in her stomach turned black.

  Black patterns spread out across her body, growing away from the holes in her midsection. She was terrified. Suddenly the sky turned black, lightning cracked, and the ground fell from beneath her. She was falling. She felt a familiar electric jolt run through her body and she clenched her teeth. Her eyes turned blue with each jolt. She heard a voice say, “Awake.” She opened her eyes and she was in a medical room. She was sweating. The markings were gone. The straps were gone. She was naked. She rose out of the bed effortlessly, noticing the funny look of the walls of the room. She could see shapes of other bodies against the wall. She reached out to touch the body of one of the beings. The man opened his eyes and roared at her. She jumped and awoke.

  Abigail sat on her bed sweating and panting. Again her dreaming had disrupted a peaceful and necessary rest. The setting sun flickered over the treetops and what was left of its light snuck through the blinds. She stood up, stretched and looked through the dusty white plastic strips. A cat passed by. It noticed Abigail’s glance. It hissed at her. She hissed back and caught herself. “What am I doing?” She stretched again and rubbed the top of her back between her shoulder blades, touching the highest of her tattoos.

  CHAPTER 7

  FINCH’S HOUSE

  It was late afternoon and Finch had just arrived home. She was barely out of her jacket when she received a text from Brown. “MISS YOU! JOIN ME AT FRANKIES.” She didn’t want to sit home alone. After a long day of work, a drink at Frankie’s was a nice bonus. She decided to take a shower. After the shower, she changed into a t–shirt and running pants. She sprayed her body with some sweet smelling body splash just before her phone rang. It was her mother–in–law. Finch ignored the call as usual. She wanted to answer but couldn’t find the energy to have an hour long discussion about anything that had to do with Anthony. She had been ignoring the calls for the past three months.

  Suddenly Finch looked directly in front of her. She stood there for a while and stared at absolutely nothing. There was nothing there, but she sensed something was there. She turned around, looked behind herself, thought for a moment and shook it off. She went into the bathroom and washed her face. “I’m going crazy in this house.”

  Finch went to her back porch. She took out the small joint that she kept hidden and lit it up. She took two hits from it and took a couple of deep breaths. It was a short moment in heaven. She needed it. It was a temporary fix before a potential sex–filled night with Sydney Brown.

  She grabbed her keys and ran out of the house.

  FRANKIE’S PUB

  Brown sat at the bar, drinking a Guinness and milk. He had been quietly watching a boxing match he had seen before, so his attention wasn’t 100% into it. He and Frankie spent the night engaging in small talk. Frankie was tending the bar alone. Technically, he had closed the bar for the night, but if he was on the floor and an acquaintance of his stopped by, he didn’t mind opening up the bar and sharing a few drinks.

  “Where is my girlfriend?” Brown joked about Abigail.

  “Who? Abby? She doesn’t work every day you know.”

  “Tell her I miss her.” Brown smiled as he took a sip.

  “You better worry about your own unfinished affairs old man and get Abigail out of your head.” They giggled.

  “I hear you’re thinking about closing the club,” Brown pried.

  Frankie didn’t want to talk about it with a cop, but he figured it was okay. “Man. I been trying to close the place for the past couple months. I just can’t convince Larry… I don’t need the heat anymore man. I know you guys know about it and look out for me. I respect that, but it’s not worth the headache. You know what I’m saying?”

  Brown agreed, “Yes. I’ll tell you something. You are a respected man, but the police force gets older; and new, younger guys come in. You don’t know them; they don’t know you. They don’t understand how important these relationships are; they’re just looking for stripes and recognition.”

  “I know. I saw some new kid in here, sniffing around like he had big balls. I wanted to knuckle his ass up. Scaring my customers just to be a prick. What was his name? I can’t remember. What a prick!” Frankie poured himself a shot of Jameson whiskey. “So, what’s new? We haven’t seen you here in a while.”

  “Not much new. It’s the same old shit. Work and women! Keeps you busy!”

  Frankie agreed, “Ha! Ha! Busy and broke!”

  The door opened and Finch walked in the door. The two men look at her. “Hey guys.”

  Frankie found her attractive, “Now that’s a nice one right there.”

  “That’s my partner.”

  “You’re a lucky man.” Frankie winked and reached for a glass.

  Finch sat down at the bar. She immediately ordered a drink. “Let me get a double Crown Royal on the rocks.” The drink was the best compliment to how she had felt all day.

  “So…Meghan…”

  “So…Sydney…” They both giggled. “I can’t even take you seriously right now.”

  Brown leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, “You’re cute.” Brown didn’t get much time to flirt with her in public, but he seized the moment whenever he could. “I don’t tell you enough.” They had the bar to themselves; the night was lovely, the setting was romantic enough to make Meghan more open with her flirtations as well. Finch smiled and looked away, shyly. Frankie handed her the drink and walked away giving them privacy.

  “What’s up with your mother in law calling and you ignoring her calls? What’s going on?”

  “We don’t talk about that, remember?” Finch reminded him that their time together was about them and no one else, not even Anthony.

  Sydney shrugged his shoulders and conceded. He finished his drink. Frankie placed the bottle of Crown Royal and a glass with ice in front of Brown and winked. Frankie went back to shining glasses on the other side of the bar. He got a phone call from Larry and walked into the kitchen to take the call.

  “You get that memory card over to the lab?” Finch swiftly changed the subject.

  “Let’s not talk about work!” Brown wanted to focus the discussion in another direction.

  “Agreed.” They toasted glasses and smiled at one another.

  “So, let’s talk about us.” Brown was a little uncomfortable because he wasn’t sure how Meghan would react. She could turn her soft side off and on like a
stop light. She intimidated Brown a little but not enough to keep him at bay. He was sick of the hiding and the secret life they shared. He wanted more, but all the cards were in Meghan’s hands. And she knew it.

  “What about us, Sydney?” She gulped down the Crown Royal out of nervousness. She knew what he meant, but it wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have. She poured another shot.

  “I mean us maybe being a little more serious about this you and me thing. I have feelings for you, you know that.” He sipped. “I’m tired of… sneaking around in closets or for a late night rendezvous’. I want to dress up and see you in a sexy dress — take you out, buy you things, and have all of this be okay.”

  “I’m sure the department would like to know you’ve been fucking your partner, Sydney.” Meghan’s defense was to be an asshole. She knew he didn’t look at her that way. She couldn’t look him in the eye. She had strong feelings for him, too.

  “I don’t ‘fuck’ you, Finch.”

  “Then what is it that you do to me? What else would you call it?” She really didn’t want to hear his answer but didn’t know what else to say to start an argument that would give her an excuse to end the conversation.

  “Okay, yes. Sometimes we fuck. Fine! It is what it is, but if you can’t tell the difference between the times it’s just sex and when I’m making love to you, then maybe I’m fucking up over here and I should leave you alone. Because I thought…” Brown moved in closer. “I thought you were making love to me too.”

  They were both feeling loose from the drinking. Finch had let him get closer than she ever had in public. He ran his hand through her hair and kissed her on the jaw line two soft times. He moved around and gently kissed her on the lips. She was afraid, “Syd, you know my mind is not straight right now. This is too much for me.” She pulled away and took another shot. “That’s the last one for the night. I have to drive.”