Flutter

by L. E. Green

and placed it on her laptop. She took a sip of whiskey. It was strong. It reminded her of Anthony and Sydney at the same time. Strong and relaxing. She stretched her body and rubbed her eyes. It was getting late, but she was wrapped up in figuring out what was going on. She knew there was a connection between the recent occurrences.

  Meghan spent the next few hours working diligently into the wee hours of the morning, researching, copying, pasting and printing information on Indigo Inc. By the time she was satisfied with her progress, the sun was peeking over the treetops. She knew she needed rest but was also elated about her thorough acquisition of information through research. Thank you, Google. She packed her files away, shut down the computer and climbed into bed. She put on three alarms to be sure she would get up on time for work. She opened her phone and took another look at the blurry picture of the alley murder suspect and thought, Why does this face look familiar? It bothered her the same way trying to remember a word that was on the tip of her tongue. She put the phone away and rested her head on the pillow with only a few hours remaining before she had to get up. A few hours of sleep were fine. She would be okay with that. Her mind raced for a few minutes, but she was sleep within five. She slept well.

  MORNING

  Erin Moore ran six mornings a week. Today was no different. She spent the morning finishing up her daily run at the local health spa about two blocks from her apartment in downtown Boston. She usually ran for an hour a day and occasionally engaged in light weight lifting but wasn’t interested in bulking up in any way. She already had a natural strength. Her muscles were naturally formed without much effort. She liked her slender, feminine physique and thought herself to be envied by the women from the various aspects of her life: colleagues, coworkers, family. She refused to be overweight by any standard.

  Moore worked hard to maintain her lean body and grunted as she watched people in the office pile the sugar and cream into their coffee. She rolled her eyes every time she saw workers return from lunch with a McDonald’s bag and a shake. She considered bad eating habits to be a lack of self control and poor judgment, which in her mind was a statement of weakness. She was even more repulsed by people who were naturally smaller than others yet ate like pigs. She knew that being thin was not an excuse to overindulge. She saw them as an implosion waiting to happen: indigestion, bad cholesterol, heart disease... Disgusting!

  As she ran on the treadmill, her mind slipped back to her more pudgy years of life, the things she ate, and her refusal to be in that shape ever again. How could others not care? She didn’t mean to judge others, but in her own way she used her judgments of them to stay motivated and work out in the gym.

  Erin was from Ontario, California. She had two sisters. Geraldine and Sandy. Her older sister, Geraldine, had moved to New York, and she sought an excuse to get to the east coast as well. Sandy was also back east attending George Washington University in DC, so Erin was highly motivated to get a new position on the east coast as well. That opportunity came when an executive suddenly quit. He had walked right out of the office, taking only one box with him. He lit a cigarette before reaching the elevator, smoked his way down to the ground level, and walked out. He never returned.

  At the time, she was working as COO of a company in Utah. She received a call from Jusford Chillings, the head of the board of directors. He told her that she was recommended by a former board member who had worked a few projects with her in the past. The next day she flew in for an interview and was hired on the spot. She was very sharp and witty. She answered questions thoroughly and without hesitation. She had poise and would be a great image for the company. She worked as Robert Benson’s assistant COO. It was a slight pay cut, but she was closer to her sisters and happy to move on with her life.

  After the murder of Jiang and the disappearance of Benson, without hesitation the board voted unanimously to move her up to CEO.

  Erin ended her workout and walked out of the spa. She noticed a text message from Darren Hall, her lover and coworker, “CALL ME AFTER YOUR RUN.” She dialed his number. It rang and he answered.

  “Yes love?” Darren said sarcastically.

  “Oh so you love me now,” she joked though she was still a little winded from the workout. Hall could hear it in her voice.

  “Of course I do. How could I not love you?” He said.

  She asked, “Did you workout today?”

  “Yes. I exercised a little earlier so I could do some work before getting in. I wanted to run some things by you. Some of the numbers in the deal are not where they need to be. I can show you what I mean in person. What time are you coming in?”

  “I can get there by 7:30 if you need me to,” she said as she looked at her watch.

  “Perfect. I will be in by 7:15. We have a few meetings today, so I wanted to get some time with you before that started.”

  “Thanks,” Erin said as she wiped sweat off her forehead.

  “How about dinner tonight? My place. I’m cooking,” Darren said.

  “I wouldn’t miss it. Salmon?”

  “Your favorite. I can do that!”

  “And a massage?” She asked as she approached her apartment building.

  “You’re pushing it, boss lady.”

  She laughed, “It was worth a shot. Well, I’m home; I will see you in about an hour then.” She hung up the phone, cracked a quick half smile and went in to her apartment. She had a protein shake, showered, dressed and headed out to work.

  CHAPEL AND CASE INVESTMENT COMPANY

  Erin Moore’s office was on the top level of Chapel and Case, directly across from the elevator. It was the only office on that level with two high–tech conference rooms on either side. In front of the office was a waiting area with couches, chairs, a small refrigerator, a bathroom and wet bar. Cameron Myles was Erin’s executive assistant. She used to work for Jiang and now happily assisted Moore. Inside the office, the back wall was constructed completely of glass. The side walls were constructed of a dark gray, smooth concrete with cherry wood shelves. The wall to the left held track and field awards from college, her degrees and a few family photographs. The wall to the right had a wet bar and a door that lead to a private bathroom equipped with a shower, mini steam room and a bidet.

  In the office, Moore and Darren Hall sat at a small table by the window looking over figures that he had promised to show her. He had a laptop open and a stack of papers with Excel spreadsheets and charts. She wasn’t very surprised by the findings but she knew that Darren didn’t pull any punches when it came to his calculations. He was very thorough. It was one of the reasons she was attracted to him. If things were not in the company’s favor, he would be the first to prove it numerically. This was not the news that Erin wanted to hear; but the numbers didn’t lie, and Erin trusted Darren’s work without question. They reviewed the findings for about 30 minutes before Darren left for a meeting. Erin had a string of meetings and conference calls that morning. Just as Hall exited the room, he saw Cameron escorting a group of executives from other companies into conference room 19A. He smiled at Cameron, walked in and took a seat, waiting for Erin to enter.

  A couple hours later at the front of the building, a black limo followed by two black Escalade trucks pulled up to the firm. The men in the Escalades exited the trucks, walking rigidly and uniformly. There were a total of six men, three in each vehicle. They were wearing all black European cut suits and black sun glasses. They were clean cut and moved mechanically over to the limo. One turned around and a tattoo on the back of his neck became visible. It was small and circular. The tattoo was similar to Abigail’s. One of the men opened the limo door. An older man, Jason Dewey, exited the limo. He looked around before he too placed sun glasses on his face. Dewey led the way to the lobby. Two of the men in the suits walked with Dewey into the building. The others stayed behind, keeping watch.

  ERIN MOORE’S OFFICE

  The two mysterious men and the older gentleman barged into Erin Moore’s office. She was on a video confere
nce call. Cameron Myles tried to block the door but they easily brushed her aside. Their strength was too powerful for her. She said to Moore, “I’m sorry they...”

  “Let them in,” Moore said. She was very upset but refused to show her emotions.

  Mr. Dewey shut the door in Ms. Myles' face and said, “Excuse me Ms. Moore. It’s always a pleasure to see my old friend.”

  “Likewise,” she replied sarcastically. “What brings you here this morning, Dewey?”

  “We have a few things to talk about, Moore. You haven’t been returning my calls, so I thought it was best to pay you a visit and don’t give me shit about being busy. I know your schedule.”

  “Then you would know that you picked a terrible time to interrupt.” She said to the executives on the video conference, “Excuse me.” She muted the conversation and said, “Mr. Dewey. I’m in an important meeting right now and…”

  He interrupted, “They can wait.” He sat down in a chair and removed his sun glasses. He took out his glasses and placed them on his face. “We have serious business to discuss. Now, you can unmute the call and let them know what we’ve been up to, or you can reschedule. Sit your ass down and listen.”

  “How did you get past security in the lobby?”

  Dewey smiled, “My men can be very persuasive.” The two men stepped forward in a threatening manner. Moore could see their guns bulging in the side holsters behind their jackets.

  She knew what they were capable of. She was frustrated that she hadn’t been watching the live lobby footage. She looked at the monitor. She saw the guards at the front desk sitting at the desk with two of Dewey’s men standing behind them holding weapons to their backs. Moore was shaken up. She unmuted the call and said, “Sorry folks. Let’s pick this up in about an hour.”

  Mr. Dewey said, “Make it two.”

  “Two hours. Let’s make that two hours. Grab a lunch. We’ll reconvene at noon.” She hung up on the call.

  Mr. Dewey slammed his briefcase on the desk. Erin Moore completely shut down her computer and drew the shades on her windows. Dewey opened the case, and Erin slammed her palm on it and shut it back. She was still afraid but wasn’t keen on being embarrassed in front of her colleagues.

  With a stern voice Erin said, “In order for me to run this company and be taken seriously by clients, you need to show me some respect. You do not own this company. You do not run this company. It is my ass on the line. Not yours. If I decide not to drop another penny into your fledgling account then that is my decision. Do not come in here shoving your way through my firm, roughing up my secretary, threatening my...”

  Mr. Dewey snatched his case from under her hand, “I am not asking you for more money. You are so uninformed. You have no idea what mess I have been trying to clean up. I came here to talk about one of our joint investments which we seemed to have 'misplaced' and the fact that my company is being heavily researched by a two bit cop who has a… hunch. Believe me, if they can connect you back to the company in Salt Lake City, your ass will be sitting in cell block eight receiving the Martha Stewart special. I came here to warn you.”

  “What do you mean by lost?”

  “She escaped?” he uttered sarcastically.

  “She?” Erin had only seen Dewey with male guards but never heard of females.

  “Oh yes. A she. She is a trained killer on the loose. She’s a special one unlike the others. We tracked her here. In your backyard. Would you believe it?” Dewey took out a cigar but decided to just chew on it.

  Moore was nervous, “Why would she come here?”

  “We don’t know and don’t care. Some idiot posted her picture as a missing person. We will need to pay him a visit if we cannot locate her exact whereabouts. We need her back ASAP. I need to run tests and she needs to finish her training.”

  Erin picked up her cell phone, “Get me a name and picture. I’ll put my contact on it. They’ll find her.”

  Mr. Dewey smiled, “Good. I’m also going to send my boys out to retrieve that investment and take care of that nosey cop. An old buddy of mine, Jackson Pearson... Do you know the name?” Moore nodded her head. “Seems he has a bone to pick with this same cop or detective or whatever she is.”

  Jackson Pearson had offered Detective Finch a half a million dollars to foil the evidence against his son Sean Pearson and she had refused. His son was convicted and was sent to prison for a year on bribery charges. Dewey and Pearson had made a few shady business deals. Dewey knew that Pearson had contacts within the police force so he made the call. It just so happened that Dewey was looking for information on the same detective who had helped Pearson lose millions. Pearson wanted to help, but he was still on probation and knew he was being monitored.

  Dewey continued, “My boys are going in to handle this. Call your contacts. Keep the rest of the police squad off the case; let them do what they came to do, and we will be on our way out of town as soon as possible. Make some calls and make it happen so I can get out of your hair and back to my business endeavors.”

  “I will make the call now.” Erin began to dial a phone number.

  “If things go well, I will get you a pair of Ezekiels as a show of my appreciation.” He smiled and walked out.

  He called them the Ezekiels. It was the nick name Dewey gave the men and women of the Project Flutter program. He didn’t know what else to call them so he made up the name in reference to their hybrid combination of human and animal abilities. They had names like just Abigail did. His two favorites were Ben and Saul, the two who followed him just about everywhere he went. They were the most loyal, emotionless and least opinionated. They did as they were told, killed without question. They protected Dewey and often called him Father Dewey. He was their creator. And they were his angels of death, taking the lives of anyone who infringed upon his vision or the visions of those who hired him to eliminate obstacles.

  CHAPTER 15

  FRANKIE’S PUB

  Frankie spent the morning prepping food, cleaning and ordering supplies. A few shipments came in so he spent the morning also packing things away and rearranging the kitchen area. Not many people came into the bar before noon. Larry was on his way. Today would have been a good day for Abigail and Roger to return, but he wasn’t sure what was going on. She hadn’t returned his texts and Roger hadn’t checked in either. He was worried. Unknown to him, the two were on their way back to the pub. Frankie mopped and hummed a random tune in his head. He made it up as he went along. He opened the pub at 11:05am. The first patrons entered by 11:15. One of them was Detective Brown. He immediately ordered a coffee and sat down with his briefcase.

  Roger and Abigail had spent the night at Roger’s house and drove back to the pub. About noon, they arrived at Frankie’s Pub. They parked the truck in the back and walked around the building, heading to the front. It was a warm day. The foul stench of rotting garbage lingered through the air. This had never bothered Abigail. She never complained about the smell of bad meat and festering foods. Roger fanned a few flies from his face. They didn’t speak but Roger watched Abigail, as she seemed disconnected from the world, placing one foot in front of the other, heading toward the front door. She was almost dragging her feet. She wondered what she should say to Frankie. He was being a lot more understanding than she had imagined he would be, but she didn’t want to have to answer questions. Her only defense to this would be to put up a wall, her regular tactic to avoid conversation.

  Detective Brown and a few other patrons were in the pub. Brown sat at a table by the window, drinking a coffee. He looked through a few papers and sent Finch a text, “STILL COMING TO FRANKIE’S?”

  A few moments later Meghan Finch responded, “I’LL BE THERE IN A FEW. DRIVING NOW!”

  Brown wrote back, “X THE TXT!” a reference to an ad campaign to end texting and driving.

  She wrote back, “SHUSH!”

  Frankie saw Abigail and Roger coming in and opened the door. Immediately, Roger handed Frankie the key to the truck. They wa
lked in. Roger sat down at the bar. Abigail went into the kitchen without saying a word.

  Frankie went over to Roger and said, “I didn’t think she was coming back. Is everything cool?”

  Roger replied, “More complicated actually. We’ve got some work to do but we didn’t want to keep your truck this long without checking in.”

  Frankie wanted to be discreet, knowing that Brown was in the room, “It’s fine. I don’t use that thing enough to miss it. I’m glad you guys are okay. I know you are being secretive for a reason, but I need to make sure all is well. You can keep to yourselves for a while, but at some point we should talk about what happened the other night and we should talk soon.”

  Roger nodded. Frankie poured him a Coke just as Abigail walked out of the kitchen and joined Roger at the bar. Frankie looked at Abigail and immediately felt her anguish. She was distracted with thoughts of everything. Instead of haunting her dreams, these thoughts were now affecting her daytime consciousness. Anxiety was settling in. She felt her temperature rising. Her hand rubbed the back of her neck where her first tattoo rested. Her eyes were dark with worry and sadness. She had a rough night, tossing and turning in the bed next to Roger. Her mind raced with images of the beasts from the bible passage. She couldn’t get them out of her head.

  Frankie passed her a double shot of Crown Royal, her favorite. She took it and tossed it back with ease. The burn in her throat was eerily comforting, especially the warm sensation that followed the harsh burn. Frankie walked away to serve a customer who waited at a table by the window.

  Roger noticed Brown sitting by the window and spoke softly, “What are we gonna do, Elvis? We’re back where we started, back at Frankie’s.”

  Roger broke Abigail’s concentration and she replied, “We are so far from where we started, Rog. How can you not see? We know so much more today than we knew yesterday or the day before. I have the suit. And I have these.” Abigail pulled out Paltee’s journals and placed them on the counter. “Paltee said they would be looking for me. Let them find me. It’s the only way I will get more answers. In the meantime I need to go through these and do some research. I could use some help, Roger.” She hated to admit it.