by Lee Killough
While not turning, Lamper cocked his head for a moment before continuing to type.
Cole backed off. It might be just a whisper, but Lamper heard something. That could be useful. Now if Flaxx and Irah heard, too…
No…being seen offered more potential for rattling them. After all, as a ghost, his job description started with “haunt.” Let Irah come face to face with her victim. Maybe she would make fatal mistakes.
Continuing down the hallway, Cole eyed Security’s door, wishing for another look at the security tape, to see whether Irah showed up on it. Materializing gave him the ability to walk in and ask to see the tape, but he doubted Farrell would cooperate with Cole Dunavan. The effort of materialization probably ought to be saved for confronting Irah anyway.
Before leaving to collect heat, he checked to be sure she was in her office. She was…sitting at her computer. Not playing games this time. She had gone online to a security system manufacturer’s web site. Keeping up to date on the latest developments Old Spice needed to watch out for?
What materialization would shake her up the most, Cole wondered. Just walk in and present himself as if nothing had happened? Or maybe take a more spectral approach by coming out of the computer at her. Even better, of course, would be to appear as he most likely looked the last time she saw him…a bloody body with bullet holes in his head. Too bad he could not-
The thought stopped short. Why not? What kept him from doing the horror movie bit? He had to create a mental image for materialization. So he should be able to imagine himself in any shape he wanted.
He leaned close to her ear. “Don’t go away.”
Unlike Lamper, she did not react. His next visit ought to change that.
He looked around the office, feeling its place in the world so he could come straight back. Then he walked out through the wall and around the corner of the building to where he had a line-of-sight to the Embarcadero. After picking an intersection and taking the feel of it so he could zip back there when necessary, too, he began his zig-zag stroll between lanes and stopped vehicles. He ought to be able to appear as anything he visualized. Could he? Only one way to find out.
What shape did he want to use?
Judging by the successes in travel and materializations to far, he had to visualize it clearly. That should be no problem with real subjects he knew well. A bloody body and other apparitions, though, had to come out of his imagination. So he might as well go for something imaginary to see if it was do-able.
Nothing too weird, though. The light changed and he moved to the halted southbound traffic. It should be something people accepted as real or they might still manage to block him out. Suddenly he knew just the form he wanted….not out of his imagination, but believable…and a natural for him.
After several more light changes, Cole crossed his fingers and went line-of-sight to Justin Herman plaza and on into 4EC’s mall. Then in a quiet corner, with no one looking his direction, he stiffened into a mechanical posture. He concentrated, shaping energy into his target shape. When he felt weight, he checked himself out. Yes! He looked covered in metal.
Robocop strode into the mall courtyard.
Around him heads turned. Some brows went up. He spotted a couple of double takes…also rolled eyes. Again, he noticed that he reflected in store windows as a faint haze.
Even this way not everyone saw him, he noticed. One woman said to her girlfriend, “What’s everyone looking at?” A man’s eyes, too, slid past with no indication of registering his presence. Otherwise Robocop appeared successful. Now on to haunting Irah.
Looking around for a spot to inconspicuously pull the plug, he spotted a security guard coming up behind him. Young, husky, a hint of swagger in his stride.
“Hi, there. That’s a cool costume.” The guard smiled, but above it, his eyes were wary. “It looks just the movie.”
Cole smiled back. “Thank you. I built it myself.”
“And you’re wearing it this afternoon because…?” The friendly tone did not quite hide the edge on the question, nor the direction his eyes drifted…down toward the holster on Cole’s hip.
Maybe an armed shaped had been a poor choice. Cole kept smiling and stood as relaxed as the Robocop form could manage. “A friend bet I wouldn’t have the nerve to walk clear through the mall in it. I stand to win fifty bucks.”
“Is that a real Desert Eagle?”
“Nah…just a plastic replica.” Cole felt himself starting to run out of steam. Holding this shape was harder than materializing as himself. Worse, another guard, female, strolled toward them. Trying to look casual but no doubt coming in response to the first guard’s call for backup.
“It certainly looks real. May I see it?”
Meaning: hand it over. With that being impossible, the time had definitely come to pull the plug. The male guard’s eyes had narrowed and his partner eased into a position off to Cole’s side, her thumbs hooked over her duty belt near the pepper spray. He had to let go of Robocop here in front of them, too, since running for somewhere might create a situation endangering bystanders. Well, this ought to be interesting.
“Scotty, beam me up.” He let go.
The guards, and bystanders who had been watching them, started, then gaped in disbelief. “What the hell? Where did he go?”
The female guard frowned. “It must have been some kind of projected image.”
“No way.” The male guard shook his head. “He was as solid and three dimensional as you are…and we talked.” He glanced around. “Where would a projection come from?”
Cole left them peering up at the promenade and lobby levels above. However much it bugged them trying to explain what happened, with luck, that hinted at how much he could mess with Irah’s mind. Grinning in anticipation, he zipped back to the Embarcadero.
17
The anticipation turned to frustration back in Irah’s office. She had gone. Rather than waste the collection effort, he headed for Flaxx’s office. She might be there and he could confront both of them at once. Or if Flaxx were alone, he might use the opportunity to rat Irah out and tell big brother what little sister had been up to on her own.
As Cole approached Flaxx’s door, however, he thought of the security tape and realized that now he had a way to see it. Let the haunting wait a few more minutes. He changed direction for the Security office.
When Cole passed through the door, Farrell had his back to it, sitting relaxed with his hands behind his head while he watched the monitors. In particular, he appeared to be watching the reception area. On the monitor Gina bent over straightening magazines on a side table, an action that raised her skirt in back, displaying the entire length of her legs. Cole made himself block out the show and concentrate on visualizing himself as Earl Lamper and his voice as Lamper’s.
As soon he felt substance, he cleared his throat. “Mr. Farrell.”
Farrell jerked upright and whipped his chair around. “Mr. Lamper! I didn’t hear you come in.”
It worked! And doing Lamper felt easier than Robocop. Cole gave him one of Lamper’s thin smiles, though he felt like pounding Farrell’s back in celebration. “I’d like another look at that tape we showed the detectives.”
“Yes, sir.” Farrell pulled the cassette out of the drawer and pushed it into the TV/VCR. “How much of it?”
“Run it from noon until seven-thirty.” That probably gave him a race between the tape and holding on to the materialization, but he needed to be sure Irah had not left earlier than the time period they checked before. Maybe the less he moved, the longer he could last.
Farrell started the tape. Images flickered for a second or two, then disappeared into static, followed by a partial image and more static.
“What the hell?” Farrell’s scalp furrowed. “I don’t understand. This was fine when I showed it to Miss Carrasco.”
Irah! Cole swore silently. “When was that?”
“A couple of hours ago.”
Hearing about the tape’s e
xistence startled Irah. She no doubt expected it to have been thrown away. She needed it thrown away, so no one could see she never left the office that evening, that she had been there to catch Sara and lure him to the garage. “Have you been out of the office since then?”
Farrell’s tone went anxious. “Just to take a leak and get my lunch from the break room. And I locked the office.”
No defense against Irah. She would have seen where Farrell kept the tape, and running a magnet over it enough to mess it up did not take long.
“This isn’t your fault. You might as well stop the tape. There’s no point trying to watch any more.” Just as well. He could not hold the materialization much longer. “Still keep the tape, though.” Experts might be able to salvage something.
He eased toward the door. While Farrell ejected the tape and returned it to the drawer, Cole said, “Thank you,” and let go.
Farrell glanced around, and blinked. “Mr. Lamper?” Then he shrugged and turned back to his monitors.
Cole zipped back to his Embarcadero intersection and stalked angrily through the vehicles. Now he had no proof Irah stayed late and-
A raucous outburst from gulls pulled his attention upward…and bringing the clock on the Ferry Building tower into his line of sight. The time! This was about when Razor planned to see Sherrie! For all the time spent at SF General, Cole wondered, did he have enough sense of its location for a ziptrip? He opened his internal map and put a mental finger on the hospital…next to the James Lick Freeway, tucked between the Mission and Potrero Hill… then pictured the ER’s location inside the hospital.
The Embarcadero turned into the ER reception desk. Yes! Maybe he finally had zipping nailed. Giving the oblivious clerk a thumbs up, he hurried past the desk into the ER.
Finding Sherrie and Razor might take time. They had a choice of places to talk, including outside, if Razor wanted to smoke. Cole had barely started hunting them, however, when he spotted Razor coming out of the nurse’s lounge…alone. Face deadpan, Razor headed for the exit. Cole’s stomach knotted. The meeting appeared to be over, and must not have gone well. He angled to intercept Razor and ask what happened.
Before he said a word, Razor muttered, “Outside.”
Razor saw him without being prompted? That was real progress. In the parking lot, Razor did not look at him again until he lit a cigarette and took a long drag.
The meeting had not gone at all well, Cole reflected bleakly. “It was that bad?”
Razor exhaled. “Well it’s sure as hell creeping me out.”
Cole’s stared at him in dismay. “What happened with Sherrie?”
“Sherrie?” Razor blinked. “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about the other ghosts in there.”
Now it was Cole’s turn to blink. “You’ve seen other ghosts?”
“Oh, yeah.” Razor took another deep drag. “Not like I do you. They’re on the edge of my vision and when I turn to look, they disappear. I didn’t just see them, either. One kept saying a woman’s name over and over.”
“Why is that worse than seeing me?”
Razor grunted. “How would you like having things come at you in your peripheral vision.”
Okay, that would be unnerving to a cop. “I’m sorry. Were there many?” An ER could be awash in the spirits of the recently departed.
“Any is too many for me, but….” Razor shrugged. “…I guess I saw just four or five.”
An idea hit Cole. A way to learn if Sara was alive or not. “Can I talk you into deliberately looking for another one?”
Razor winced. “Where?”
“The Two EC parking garage, for Sara’s ghost. I hope you don’t see it but if you do… we’ll know she’s dead.”
“Yeah.” Razor sighed heavily. “I’ll give it a shot.” He ground the cigarette out underfoot. “The car’s that way.”
Once they were in it and headed north, Cole came back to his other concern. “How did things go with Sherrie?”
Razor hesitated. “Well…”
“She didn’t believe you about Sara?” Cole’s gut felt like lead.
“She wants to, but…come on.” Razor grimaced. “I’m your good buddy swearing that nothing happened when you played along with a young, leggy blonde hitting on you. She didn’t call me a liar but — how did she put it? She can understand how my affection for you both makes me want to protect your reputation and her memories of you.” He shook his head. “It isn’t like there’s evidence to back me up…just my word against what the Brewer woman claims she saw, Sherrie knowing how bad you want Flaxx, and how nervous you acted between meeting Benay and disappearing. Which I have to say, amigo, even makes me wonder what happened in her apartment. You never said exactly.” He paused. “Not that I don’t believe you escaped with your pants still zipped.”
Cole told him about Sara stripping down to her butterflies.
Razor sighed. “Now why couldn’t that have happened to me? Okay, okay,” he said when Cole glared at him. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to mention that to Sherrie, but you should have told her something…given her your version of the story in case she heard any others.”
Cole shook his head. “She’d have known I wasn’t telling her everything.” And imagined worse than the truth. Like she was right now. “Yeah, I should have just come clean and trusted that my cold sweat would convince her I was being truthful and regretting my stupidity. Her father never sweated, and never regretted, either.”
“Ain’t hindsight wonderful.” Razor halted for a stoplight. “Anyway, it’s going to take more than my word to make your case.”
The thought brought a wash of despair. Cole fought it. He would think of something to do. Meanwhile, the idea of making cases reminded him… “I started to take another look at the security tape to check whether it showed Irah leaving for the night.”
Razor blinked. “How did you manage that?”
“By materializing as Lamper, only- ”
“Materializing as Lamper?” Razor’s brows went up. “You can do that? Sweet. There’s your answer for Sherrie. Show up as Benay and have a girl to girl chat.”
Cole considered it for about a second. “No. Even if she can see me materialized, that’s like lying to her.” Sherrie deserved better than being conned, even when everything he told her was true. “Now listen about the security tape.”
Listening, Razor grimaced, then shrugged. “Well, it does make Irah look guiltier when we’re able to put together a case against her.”
If they could do so with evidence destroyed.
A parking space close to where his car had been was too much to hope for, but at least they found one on the same level. Before climbing out, Razor sat with his hand on the door handle. “If I spend the rest of my life seeing dead people, I’m blaming you, old buddy. How much of the garage do you want checked?”
“Just the area where I felt the terror.”
Razor sucked in a breath and pushed open the door. “Let’s do it.”
Cole led the way back through the garage.
Razor said, “By the way, when Hamada and I got to the Hall, we ran into Leach in the elevator.”
Shit. “And…?”
Razor gave a wry shrug. “He looked at me for a couple of seconds, then told Hamada, ‘I trust you’ll make sure Benay doesn’t “resist arrest.”’”
Almost a blessing. Who would have thought.
They turned down the row where he parked to meet Sara. The terror washed over him again. “This is the place.”
Razor glanced to both sides from the corners of his eyes. Halfway toward the other end he said, “I’m not seeing anything. Are you sure you remember where you parked?”
“Yes. Right down there.” He pointed. “Where that VW is now.” With his longer legs, Cole reached it first. “Do you see anything down here?”
“Not so far.” Razor came toward the VW. “Still no. No.” He started past, then abruptly halted. “Wait.” He grimaced. “Damn.”
&n
bsp; A mixture of excitement and dread rose in Cole. “You see something?”
“I thought so, but now it’s gone.” He walked beyond the next vehicle, turned around, and came back. Behind the VW he halted again…glanced quickly sideways…shook his head. “Shit. There’s something near you, but I can’t get a good look at it.”
Cole turned the direction Razor pointed. He saw nothing. Moving into the space did not change the strength of the fear he sensed. “You can look straight at me. Why not other ghosts?”
Razor shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. This one is jerking around and hard to keep in sight but beyond that…you tell me. It’s one of your people.”
Cole backed over beside the neighboring vehicle, eyeing the space behind VW. They had something…but was it the source of the terror? And was it Sara? What could they do to see it better? “Keep your eyes straight ahead and walk past the car until the thing comes into sight, then try to look at it without moving your eyes.”
Razor started behind the next vehicle…only to move hurriedly aside at the honk of a horn.
“Get out of the road!” A PT Cruiser rolled past, the blue-haired driver glaring out her window at Razor.
Cole flipped her off.
Razor moved over behind the vehicle on the other side of the VW, where he faced approaching cars. Gaze fixed ahead, he eased forward. Halfway past the VW’s parking space he halted for a couple of seconds, backed up, frowned, eased forward again and halted once more. After a good portion of a minute, he reached up under his glasses to rub his eyes, then joined Cole beside the neighboring vehicle just as another car passed.
“Well?” Cole said.
Razor smiled wryly. “I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. I can’t really be standing in a parking garage talking to one ghost and looking for another.”
“Did you see Sara?”
The smile vanished. “Maybe.”
Cold spread through Cole. “What did you see?”
Razor jammed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “A female-ish shape, with arms behind her like their tied but these other even ghostlier hands clawing at her mouth area. I say area because the only detail was the eyes. They were huge, and bulging like they were going to pop out. And there’s this muffled scream that’s pure terror. ‘No, no, please don’t.’” He shuddered.