by Krista Cairn
“I mean, I know what the murderer looks like. And the weapon. It was harder to tell on the small screen, but that was definitely not the weapon that killed Sid. Moving past what we already know, we need the motive. Something that would compel someone to murder. We know it’s premeditated now. Did you see anyone talking to Sid other than the one guy?”
“Sure,” he frowned. “but we can’t hear it.”
“I’ve gotten pretty good at lip reading, from the Traces. The death messages, I mean.”
“Oh, right. You can’t hear the flashbacks.”
“Just like you can’t see them. Well, I couldn’t until you came along,” she shrugged.
“Can you see them when we touch?”
“Yes. It sure makes things clearer to see what’s going on.”
“No doubt.” She pulled out her phone, wishing she could open email on it. If it didn’t constantly survive her life, her changes, she would have asked for a different one. Rene hadn’t responded yet. “Let’s forget the disk. Rene has more experience with that sort of thing, anyway.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Work down his list of known associates.”
“Do you have one?”
She tapped her cellphone screen to start a text. “I will soon.” Rene would have started a list.
‘Can you send me Sid’s known associate list? The video shows a set of five decoy attackers, but no motive.’
“What would you like to do while we wait?” Mitch asked. “Not much of a host if I let you get bored.”
She looked at her cellphone for the time. “It’s getting late. Do you work in the morning?”
He smiled, nodding. “I do.”
There was a moment, a lingering that Simone didn’t understand, where he simply waited. Thinking, maybe?
“I should go.” She stood up.
‘Neil just rented the room over the dojang. Did you two fight?’ Heather messaged.
Not unexpected, she thought. Somehow, she was neither relieved nor disappointed.
That meant no one was home, waiting for her, as well. She made little ‘huh’ sound at her phone and tucked it away.
“What was that?” Mitch asked.
“Oh, a friend was just letting me know that my houseguest moved out.”
“Ah,” he said, but he looked a little disappointed. “I was going to say you could stay here until he left, but this is good, right?”
“Sure. Yes,” she agreed.
“Unless he has a key.”
“It’s okay. I think he’s pretty freaked out. I’ll get the locks changed tomorrow,” she walked to the door and slid her shoes on.
“Did you want to stay until you can get them changed? I know I’d feel better if you did.”
She paused, considering it. “Tempting, but I don’t think he’s going to organize witch hunters.
I’ll sneak in with the lights off, through the back. If there’s anything odd, I’ll leave.” She didn’t let anyone babysit her. Not even Rene.
He reached out and took her hand. “Are you sure? I know you trust him, but he knows all he has to do is throw a light on now.”
There was something in his touch that pulled her but logic had to prevail. “He’s no threat,”
she said, getting irritated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She pulled the door open and went out into the hallway that took her to the building exit. It was a bit of a hike to get home and by the time she was there, she was properly grumpy. Slamming her door shut, she saw a light on in the kitchen.
“Hello?” she called out.
Maybe Neil had left the light on. She moved slowly forward, wishing her apartment had a separate power breaker. Someone was in the kitchen, cooking, if her ears heard right.
Really? Cooking? That ruled out relatives.
Peeking around the corner, she saw Neil. She blinked a couple times. Was he back, or was he just using the food here, since she was gone? One way to tell if he was planning to be a threat.
“Hey, Neil,” she kept a lilt in her tone, hoping he took that cue. She’d rather make peace, if he wasn’t scared of her now.
He startled and turned. “Dylan! You came back.” He walked toward her and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
She pushed him back and checked his expression. He seemed sincere, but she had already forgiven him. This wasn’t a matter of acceptance or forgiveness. It wasn’t even trust, to some degree. They were still getting to know each other again, and she didn’t know what his current thoughts and expectations were.
“Heather told me you’re renting above the dojang. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore,” Simone felt her chest twinge, unexpectedly.
“I’ve imposed long enough. You need your space, and I want to stay your friend,” he smiled. “I’m making pancakes. Are you hungry?”
She’d been ignoring her stomach and it decided to growl just then, making her blush in response.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Sit. I have some ready.” He pointed to a chair. “You have to take better care of yourself.”
“I’m fine. I normally do.”
“No. You’re a rake. Do you even eat outside that Carol’s?”
“You see my kitchen. What do you think?”
He set a plate with four large pancakes on the table in front of her with some syrup.
“I think you don’t know how to cook.”
“It’s not that, really. I don’t think about shopping until I’m already in the kitchen or heading out to work.”
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself,” Neil said, joking, as he sat down across the table from her. “So, I freaked out earlier. I shouldn’t have. You’re still you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I probably would have done the same thing.” She hoped that were true.
“So, what else can you do? Are you like a superhero now?”
Simone laughed. “I doubt what I do could be called a super power. It’s very specific and entirely conditional. It’s a quirk. Not even as good as a magic show. Magicians can do their illusions pretty much anywhere.” She started to relax. He was back to his usual self again.
“What else can you do? I saw the lightless thing, but you’re hinting there’s more.”
“We can talk more about this tomorrow, or another day. I like being normal around you.”
Neil did a mock pout, causing Simone to laugh even more. “Cut it out. Think of it like a secret identity - you don’t go showing it off, right?”
“Fine, but I’m still going to think of you as a superhero. And Simone is a soft, smoky name. Matches your talent nicely.”
Simone pushed her plate away to the edge of the table. “It’s not like I can lift cars, or sling webs, or anything cool. I just go invisible in the dark. It’s like the kid in the Mystery Men movie where he was invisible, but only if no one looked.”
“Except that people can look.”
“And turn on light switches.”
“What if that’s just the start? What if you can take light, like that lighter-thing in the Harry Potter books. A deluminator, I think it was called.”
Simone hadn’t thought about that. What if she could?
“I’d have no idea how to even go about trying. It wouldn’t be a passive skill, like the disappearing.”
“We have to figure out how you can. It’s a moral imperative, you know,” he winked.
“I’m going to sleep on the couch since your friend is gone. See you in the morning.” He paused then started giggling. “See you in the morning. In the light. Cause I can’t see you at night. Cause it’s dark.”
“Wow, you’re over-tired. Take that sleep-deprived sense of humour and go to sleep,”
she smirked as she stood and cleared the table.
When he went to the door and put his shoes on, Simone rushed to her bedroom and changed into clothes that suited mingling in the night courier world.
Neil seemed to have his boundaries back in place. Friend, he’d sai
d. Hopefully that meant he wouldn’t be pressing her to be more. He’d be disappointed if he tried and she didn’t like rejecting him. Right now he was more enamoured by the idea she wasn’t quite human anymore.
Right now, she had somewhere else to be.
Chapter 14 // Good Luck
Simone checked her phone. It was one thirty a.m., but Rene’s email had come in and there was an attachment. Her computer was in a closet on a small desk she’d found at a garage sale. At the bottom of the email, Renee put a note.
“Act like this will wind up in court. Take detailed notes. Remember that you’re unlicensed, so you have to colour inside the lines. Remember human nature, and don’t trust anyone with what you find out. Report directly to me.”
Good advice and it motivated her. If she went to sleep, she may lose the motivation to move forward on this until later.
Her cellphone beeped for a text message. She had to stare at the display a minute to believe who it was.
‘Hey sis, Heather gave me this number. I’m in town and need a place to crash.’
No. Just no. Justin wouldn’t just crash. He’d take over. He’d bring in his weird friends and strange odors, and she’d never get sleep again. He’d put things on the wall and in the closets, and when he finally moved out, she’d be left to clean a disaster.
But he was family. He took care of her when her other siblings wouldn’t. When her parents hadn’t. And it would be good to see him again. Who knows, maybe he had something interesting going on. She chuckled. When didn’t he?
While her computer booted up she texted her address. ‘Fine, but none of your friends can take even a single step inside, understand?’
‘Sure, sure. No worries, little sis. See you soon.’
She opened the file Rene sent, and saw twenty three names and addresses. Who had 23 people who would benefit from seeing them dead.
At this time of day, on a Wednesday, they’d probably be at home. She could copy down license plate numbers and send those back to René. It’s too bad she couldn’t go through Sid’s desk before his father got to it. She printed the list off.
Should she wait for Justin, or go? And where would he sleep? Grumbling, she texted him. ‘When do you expect to get here?’
Her doorbell rang. “That answers that,” she sighed. She let Justin in, fully expecting him to come in the couple bags of luggage, but he just had a backpack and a small suitcase.
“How long do you think you’ll be here?” she asked.
“It’s a quick consult. I don’t expect it to be longer than a week.”
“So, business is good?”
“You could say that. Bonuses for quick work help.”
“You’ll be on the couch. Sorry about that, but there’s only one bedroom. I have a night job, but if I catch you in my bed, you have to turn your key in.”
He laughed. “Relax, I’ve grown up. I’m actually almost married. She keeps saying no.”
“Fictional characters will do that. You have to keep working on them.”
“Very funny, sis. I have an early morning. Where’s that couch?”
She grabbed her phone and the printout, and left him to get comfortable. Outside, it was dark. No moon. It was perfect. She illuminated the list with her cell phone, looking for the closest address. Ember City had logically labelled streets. It’s not that she needed a map having left the courier business so recently, but some areas of the city were ‘fuzzier’
than others in her memory.
As part of her night would be fun. She needed to go into each home, each vehicle, and any associated outbuildings think for evidence. Hopefully, René started his list with the most likely suspect at the top. She wasn’t sure how he got these names, but he had his ways. Being a former police detective had it’s advantages.
The first house was a large, white, colonial style, with hedges and a white picket fence. A complete two-story movie cliché. It gave her lots of opportunity to sneak in through the walls. The garage was the obvious spot
Then all she had to do was get a look at their family photos. Slipping into the first house, it was chaos. Apparently, they were hoarders. Surely people with such an affinity for things would have pictures somewhere. Slipping through the dark of the house, she did see a light on upstairs. Good thing ghosts didn’t make noise.
Simone looked around for the living room. Pictures would be on the table, fireplace mantel, or the wall. Maybe in the hallway. She didn’t want to get too close to the light. A door upstairs creaked, followed by the stairs. Slow footsteps made their way down. When they flipped the light switch at the base of the stairs, Simone was tucked in a dark corner.
Had she been solid it would have taken everything in her not to gasp when she recognized the person. René needed to be commended for his detective work. This was the murderers home, alright. She watched him walk to the kitchen, saw the light from the fridge come on. He was only downstairs for a few moments, then disappeared back upstairs, shutting the lights off as he went. Only the upstairs light remained.
Simone looked at her list. Ralph Peters. Not Frank? She was sure Frank was the name Sid had said. For a moment she couldn’t decide what her next step should be. If she stayed, she could find where he hid the evidence. That was her job, after all, unlicensed or not. She wouldn’t touch it. That could compromise the case. She had to be a ghost.
Maybe Frank lived here, too. What his connection was seemed obvious, and therefore suspect. They both knew Sid, and all three probably shared the same secret. Now she had to find a secret.
Suddenly her phone chimed. She pulled it out quickly to silence it. Why hadn’t she said it to silent? Footsteps upstairs came beating toward her. She took her only logical option. She ran for the exit before any lights could come on and trap her.
What was the connection? Maybe Ralph and Frank were twins. If it was some kind of secret identity, there was no point in using a different first name when you kept the same last name. She’d pass the ‘twins’ idea on to René. What else could she do, without being inside the house? Skirting the house and staying in the shadows, she went to check the back yard.
There is a garden shed along the far perimeter, about 500 yards away. Surely he would be stupid enough to put the murder weapon away, it his own shed. That would be too easy. As she looked inside, it was insanely tidy. Everything lined up in a row, everything matched into groups and categories. If that wasn’t the sign of a sick mind, she joked, what was?
She slipped in through the door, and was surprised by a motion sensor light coming on. Her heart jumped up in her chest, and the shock of it made her dizzy. She had to get out, fast for the guy upstairs noticed his shed had a visitor. She pulled her phone out and quickly took pictures, hoping she didn’t miss anything. Less than a minute later she was in the shadow of the hedges again.
A woman screamed, muffled by distance. Was that from inside the house? Simone stood, as though paralyzed. If she went in to check, she’d be caught. And if it was a voice on TV, or someone saw a mouse, or any of a hundred other things, she’d get arrested for breaking in. She listened to see if she heard anything else, anything suspicious.
There were no more strange sounds. She had to admit it was almost odd the way she abruptly went silent. Simone closed her eyes, working up the courage to climb up and peek in the lit second floor window. If there was someone up there in trouble, Police wouldn’t need evidence to get a search warrant.
Simone used a trellis on the back side of the house to pull herself up to the roof. She hated the most of her ideas came from movies, unless they worked. Then she loved them.
She inched her way along until she reached the gables of the first window. Luckily, that was the moment the light on.
As she peered around the edge, she felt herself go solid. How much light were they using in there? She stood back. What if Neil’s thought was right? Could she take light away?
There was a whimper then another scream and Simone knew she had to do something.
>
Feeling along the edge of the window, she found where it was cracked open, just a bit. She pulled. The window inched open, slowly at first, but quietly. She moved the curtain and peeked inside. Directly ahead, she saw what she had feared. The woman in her late 40s sat strapped a chair. She was leaning to one side, upright only because of her restraints.
There was blood on the side of her face, dripping from her hairline down past her ear and onto her shirt.
The person who had done this didn’t seem to be in the room. Every minute or so the woman would seem to rouse but just whimper and sag the side again. Her futile effort was more than Simone could bear. With a courage she didn’t know she had, she pushed the window open the rest of the way and slipped inside.
Her complete absence of a plan sank in just then. Even untying the woman, how would she get her out? It’s not like they could go back out the window. Still, Simone went to her and untied her, catching her as she almost fell.
“Can you walk? I’m here to help you escape,” she whispered.
Footsteps in the hallway warned her. She looked for a place to hide. Except for the woman in a chair, the room was empty. She turned to go back of the window, but she was too late. A hand reached out and grabbed her by the hair. She twisted and pulled her head away, grateful her hair was short right now. Her momentum threw her towards the woman in the chair. She fell down by her feet and stood up, trying to see a different way out. When she turned, she saw the man that Sid called Frank.
He came towards them with his other hand raised up high above his head, holding a metal pipe. He aimed directly for Simone. As it came towards them, she felt the panic she had never known before. Her usual defence was fading. This room was far too bright. She closed her eyes braced for the impact, but Neil’s voice asked again - what if you could take light away, making it dark?
She opened her eyes and stood, arms out away from her side, and concentrated on simultaneously pushing all the light away and fading. It was a risk, but it was her only chance.
The man’s weapon went straight through her as the room went dark. In her anger, Simone reached out and took hold of his neck. Maybe he should know what it was like to suffer before he died. Letting a little bit of light back in the room, she knew her hand was literally in his throat.