Red and Black

by Nancy O'Toole Meservier

  “Um…yeah,” I said. “Bailey U.”

  “Thank God,” he said, eyes closing momentarily. “Sorry, moment of panic. How old are you, by the way?”

  “Oh, I’m twenty,” I said, happy for easy questions. “And you?”

  “Twenty-four. And feeling a little like an old man right now.”

  “Must be a new experience.”

  “You might be surprised.” He leaned back in his chair. “I have two younger sisters who I live with.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “One’s around your age. Mariah. She’s a student at Bailey College.”

  I nodded. Bailey College, while it didn’t have the stellar reputation that Bailey U did, was known for being a good school.

  “What’s her major?” I asked, used to this line of conversation.

  “Nursing.”

  “Oh wow! My dad was a nurse at Bailey Central.”

  “Then this is great.” A grin spread on his face. “Now I just need to figure out how to manipulate you into putting a good word in for Mariah. It just so happens that she’s looking for an internship.”

  “Oh!” I blushed a little. “I’m sorry. He doesn’t work there anymore. He’s actually deceased.”

  Alex’s face fell.

  “Oh crap,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I said, raising a hand. “I mean…well, it happened years ago.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “You…mentioned that you had another sister?”

  “Yeah, Claire.” Alex’s frown deepened. “She’s seventeen.”

  “So, what do you do, then? Are you in school?”

  “Ah…no.” Alex shifted in his seat. “I actually work over at Colossus.”

  Another awkward silence fell between the two of us. I quickly racked my brain for related conversation topics. Ages, schools, jobs, sisters…

  “You said you live with your sisters. Does that mean you still live at home?” I asked.

  Wait, did that sound too judge-y? Like I was implying that he should have moved out already? I knew the student loan struggle was real. Maybe I should have—

  “Not quite,” Alex said. “It’s just the three of us, actually. Our mom died about a year ago, and our dad hasn’t exactly been around for a while.”

  “That…well. That sounds…really hard.” I found myself leaning forward. “That would make you almost the parent in that situation.”

  “Well, ‘almost’ is a good way of putting it.” He shook his head. “Things have been really hard for Claire. She was only sixteen when Mom died. And, well, none of us were ready, but it seemed to blindside her the most.”

  “I…can relate,” I said. “That’s how old I was when I lost my father. It was the hardest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “But you seem okay now?” Alex pursed his lips.

  “I guess so?” I frowned. “I mean, I still miss him. And I’m kind of a wreck around the anniversary of his death, and on his birthday, but…I think it gets easier with time? When it happened…I was just a mess. I pushed away everyone near to me. Ruined a few good friendships…and a relationship too.”

  “Your friends backed out on you after your father died?” Alex asked with a frown.

  “I…didn’t give them much of a choice.” I looked down at the cupcake in front of me.

  “Then what brought you back?”

  I let out a weak laugh.

  “You’re going to think it’s lame.”

  “Try me.”

  I looked up quickly at him. His eyes were focused on me, his brows furrowed. The last of his cinnamon rolls lay forgotten on his plate. And given how good the cinnamon rolls were here, that said a lot.

  “Comic books,” I replied.

  “Really?” Alex blinked.

  “Well…at first it was more of an attention-span thing,” I said. “I had problems concentrating on stuff. I couldn’t watch a movie or read a book, but thirty pages of text and pictures…well, that was about the extent of it. Also…there’s this predictability in comics. The biggest, most dramatic things can happen. People die, teams break up, but in the end, all the pieces fall in place and things go back to normal.” I paused, grabbing a piece of the cupcake. “Of course…now that kind of drives me nuts.”

  Alex nodded, his eyes distant. There was silence between us, but this one was different. Not awkward, but contemplative.

  And then I realized how potentially wrong this all was. I was pretty sure that on first dates (Was this a date? Okay, pre-date), people were supposed to have these light, playful conversations filled with thinly veiled innuendo that showed off how deep and instantaneous their attraction was. “Ha ha ha! Let’s bond over our dead parents!” wasn’t really appropriate. At least, I thought so. I didn’t go on many pre-dates.

  “Do you mind if I ask how he died?” Alex asked.

  “Drunk driver,” I replied.

  “Damn.” Alex shook his head. “My mom being sick was awful, but at least I had a chance to say good-bye.”

  I nodded.

  “Earth-shattering event, coming from straight out of nowhere,” I said with a forced laugh. “Guaranteed to change every aspect of your waking life.”

  To my relief, Alex chuckled back.

  “So I take it you’ve lived in Bailey City for a while then,” he said. “I mean…if your father was a nurse at the hospital—”

  “Oh yeah,” I said picking up on his line of thought. “I grew up here.”

  “Same with me,” Alex said, his face brightening. “Yet we’ve never run into each other.”

  “A conversation probably had dozens of times a day by the people of Bailey City,” I said, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

  “So, do you still live at home, or in a dorm?” Alex asked.

  “Home. We only live across the river, so it seemed silly to pay for housing when my bedroom was just as good.”

  “What side of the river?”

  “Ah…to the East,” I said.

  “Oh.” His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, letting me know which side of the river he lived on. Fortunately, even I wasn’t clueless enough to say, “Yeah but we’re not super-rich or anything, just well off!” Wealth is a comparative thing. And I doubted Colossus Fitness paid that well.

  “I live with my mom,” I said, trying to pick up the conversation as well as I could. “She’s a writer.”

  “A writer? What’s her name? Maybe I’d recognize her.”

  “Karou Hatsumomo. She writes under her maiden name.”

  Alex’s eyes widened.

  “I think I’ve read one of her books. The one about the doctor trying to find the missing kid…”

  “Really?” I could hear my voice brighten.

  “Yeah. Someone left it in Colossus. I ended up really liking it.”

  “I’ll have to let her know,” I said. “She’s on tour right now. Has a strong fan base on the West Coast.”

  As I spoke, I reached down for another piece of the cupcake. My fingers hit nothing but porcelain and crumbs.

  “Whoops, all out,” Alex said. “You want another?”

  “No way. Those things are huge!” I said with a laugh.

  “You’re really cute when you smile.”

  I blushed at the sudden compliment, my eyes drifting down to my empty plate.

  “And now I’ve gone and ruined things,” Alex said with a sigh.

  “No…it was really nice of you to say! I’m just…not used to it.”

  “That’s insane. A girl like you should be showered with compliments.”

  “No I…remember what I said about being shy around guys?”

  “True. Although I must say, you’re doing awfully well right now.”

  I blinked. Was I?

  “Well, you may be done, but I am grabbing another one of those cinnamon rolls,” Alex said.

  He stood up and walked back to the counter, flagging down the barista. As he did, I felt the
phone in my pocket vibrate. I looked down to see a text from Sunshine.

  “You guys making out yet?”

  “Jeez, Sunshine,” I murmured, shoving the phone in my purse.

  “Everything okay?”

  I glanced up as Alex approached the table with another cinnamon roll, but this one was in a white bag instead of on a plate.

  “Oh no, it’s nothing urgent.”

  “Well, anyway. It looks like my half hour is up.”

  “Oh? Really? Are you going?” I felt my face fall.

  “Yeah. Family stuff.” Alex shrugged.

  That…wasn’t very detailed. Was I getting the brush-off? But things were going so well, right? Unless I had really missed something…

  “It was nice talking to you though, Dawn.”

  “I agree,” I said, rising to my feet.

  Alex didn’t move. Instead he gave me a look that seemed…expectant.

  “To be honest, I was kind of hoping for your number before I went,” he said.

  “Oh!”

  “Uh-huh.”

  And we were back to grunts! At least these seemed like…happier grunts?

  I felt a weird flutter of excitement in my chest as we exchanged numbers. Alex even opened the door for me as we left.

  “Okay, Dawn, I’m going to be level with you,” he said. “I didn’t just ask for your number to be polite. I will be contacting you and asking you out.”

  I blinked, feeling my face go pink.

  “That’s…”

  “You don’t need to make up your mind now,” Alex said. “I just hate the waiting game. The rules. You know ‘if you call her the next day you’re desperate but by day three you’re fine.’ I find it better just to act. There’s thinking over something, and then there’s overthinking it.”

  “Better to regret it later than sit around and wonder what could have happened?”

  “Exactly. And right now, I know that I’ve really enjoyed our conversation today. So once I get my work schedule straight, I’ll be asking you out to dinner. Something a little more sizable than pastries.”

  “Sizable?” I gave the white bag a doubtful look.

  “Oh, that’s nothing.” Alex said with a laugh. “So please, whatever your answer might be, don’t leave me waiting.”

  And with that he turned and walked away. And the flutter of excitement that had been nestled in my chest burst out into a smile. He…Alex was going to call me. Ask me out to dinner. I found myself giggling. It had been nice, really nice in fact, to talk to him. Even if that conversation got a little serious. It was hard not to like Alex. Granted, at the moment, I wasn’t sure if that like was “let’s be buddies!” or something more, but it was still…nice.

  I just had a conversation with a guy without falling on my face. And I was going to be an Actual. It made me feel like I could do anything. Finish that presentation, call my mom back, even track down Marty and Noel. My mind was filtering through potential first-date outfits during the tram ride home (would I be expected to look fancy? Did I even own anything fancy?). I was so distracted that I didn’t even see the unfamiliar car parked in front of my house. I reached for my keys in my purse as I jogged up the front steps.

  “Ms. Takahashi?”

  I froze as I reached for the door handle. The no-nonsense voice that came from behind me was familiar, but I couldn’t really place it.

  I turned around to see an unfamiliar blond woman standing behind me.

  “My name is Detective Bronson, and I believe you’ve been ignoring my phone calls.”

  9

  Dawn

  She looked like a character from one of my mom’s books. In her late thirties to early forties, Detective Bronson had dark blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and a large pair of sunglasses rested on her face. She had a narrow build, and was dressed in a camel leather jacket, a white oxford shirt, and khaki pants. Her detective shield, clipped to her belt, completed the look. Her hands were casually placed in her pants pockets, and I could see her gun peeking out from beneath her jacket.

  I was immediately intimidated by her.

  “Um…yeah,” I said. “Sorry. College student. Busy with classes.”

  “Fine by me,” Detective Bronson said. “You don’t seem busy now.”

  “Um…actually I have a presentation to…”

  I felt my voice trail off. The detective was already making her way toward me and my front door. As she drew close, I found myself subconsciously shrinking back.

  “I’ll only take a few minutes,” Detective Bronson said with a shrug. “We’re all busy, after all.”

  “Ah…okay.”

  “Why don’t I come in, then? This might not be a conversation you want to have on the street.”

  Didn’t I know it. I opened the door and led the detective up the stairs into our house. As I reached the second level, I heard the telltale pitter-patter of paws as Lockheed came bounding around the corner. At the sight of a stranger, he came up short, eyes wide and questioning.

  “Cute cat,” the detective said, pulling off her shades.

  “I need to feed him,” I said. It was rule #2 after all.

  Detective Bronson waved me off and I went into the kitchen. I reached under the sink for the kitty kibble and gave Lockheed a portion in his bowl. He was all purrs as he wolfed down his food. I ran a hand over his fur for a few seconds, trying, and failing, to quell the uncomfortable feeling building in my gut.

  Why did this need to happen now, of all times? When things were going so well.

  “This is a nice place.”

  I jumped slightly as I looked up. The detective glanced around the large kitchen, her gaze drifting from the granite counter tops to the breakfast nook to the rarely used dining room table positioned near a pair of large windows. She nodded to herself.

  “Thanks,” I said, moving to my feet. “What can I—”

  “You’ve probably seen the news, of course. Heard about Arthur Hamilton?”

  I felt my heart skip a beat. Had someone recognized me in the building? Had my cover been blown that quickly? I forced myself to swallow before answering.

  “Yeah, the lawyer. It’s been all over the news. The security guard too.”

  “As you can imagine, it didn’t take long before we began to think about possible connections to your case.”

  “My case?”

  “Well, here in Bailey City, we don’t have too many of our prominent citizens just snatched up out of the blue like that. To have two happen within a matter of months…”

  I turned away from the detective, positioning myself in front of the breakfast nook. For a few seconds the only noise in the kitchen was Lockheed munching on his food.

  “My…case,” I finally said, “doesn’t have much in common with this one.”

  “That’s true. They’re very different. But it doesn’t change the fact that we never caught the guys that nabbed you. It’s still a connection worth exploring.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “So I decided that I would come over and speak to you for a bit, just to see if you could provide any information that might help us find Mr. Hamilton—”

  “I’ve already told the police everything I remember,” I said, my voice coming out sharp. “Multiple times.”

  “We know. But there was so much that you couldn’t remember when you first emerged. We were hoping, since it’s been three months, that you might have recalled something new. If that’s the case—”

  “I don’t remember anything new. The…Dr. Abbey said that I might never remember anything new.”

  “That’s true.” I could almost hear the shrug in her voice. “But just think of the potential good you could do if you just—”

  “I don’t remember anything!”

  My voice was so loud that even Lockheed froze, lifting his head from his food. I watched as he chewed and swallowed, his round eyes focused on me.

  “Okay, okay,” Detective Bronson said, sounding as if she were trying
to talk me off a ledge. “Don’t worry about it for now. Detective Dubois filled me in on everything. It’s just…”

  I could hear the detective make her way toward me as she spoke, moving slowly until she was by my side.

  I was suddenly filled with the wild urge to transform, right there. Put on the red and black. Grab her by the collar and push her away from me. Protect myself. Prove I couldn’t be pushed around.

  Instead, I just stood there as she slipped a business card on the counter top.

  “It was one thing when it appeared you were safe,” the detective continued. “That no one was in danger anymore. But now someone else is. I have no idea if Mr. Hamilton’s abduction is in any way related to your own. You’re right that the connections are slim. I just want to explore every possible avenue, so we can locate Mr. Hamilton as fast as possible. And if you think you can help me with that…”

  She tapped the tiny paper square.

  “Just give me a call.”

  She turned and walked away. By the time I found my voice, she had made it to the living room.

  “Detective?”

  There was a pause before she replied, “Yes, Ms. Takahashi?”

  “Did…I saw the picture of the two men in the elevator on the news. Did anyone call in with information?”

  There was another, longer pause.

  “Not yet.”

  I felt my eyebrows knit together. How could that be? I had called more than forty-eight hours ago. Was she lying?

  “Ms. Takahashi?”

  “I’ll…I hope you find him,” I said.

  “I do too.”

  And before I knew it, I heard the sound of her feet pounding down the stairs, followed by the door slamming shut.

  From his food dish, Lockheed let out a tentative meow.

  “Dammit!”

  I pounded my fists against the granite surface of the breakfast nook. Lockheed sprinted away in a flash of fur, the last few pieces of kibble forgotten in his dish. My guilt over scaring my cat was quickly dampened by the tightening in my chest, the quickening of my breath, the rising fear…

  I don’t remember exactly when I transformed, but by the time I got up to the third floor, I was already in my red-and-black costume. I opened the door next to my bedroom, the one that led straight to the roof, and pushed it open. I broke into a run, heading toward the edge. A few feet before I made it to the ledge I pushed myself upward, soaring through the air, landing across the street a few seconds later. I soon became caught up in the rhythm of it all, the exhilaration of almost flight, of the wind in my face and in my hair.