Tears of a Clone (Easytown Novels Book 2)

by Brian Parker

  “I wish I could, but city code mandates that all AIs follow the law to the letter. Without extensive reprogramming, that’s what Andi will do.”

  “Oh…” Rebecca replied, likely feeling stupid that she was the only one who hadn’t known Andi wasn’t a physical person.

  “Is it safe for us here?” Teagan asked.

  “I wouldn’t have came here if I thought there were any danger to you.”

  “Okay then. You guys can stay.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. “I just need to catch a quick catnap on the couch, and then I need to get back out there to find some answers.”

  “You don’t have to sleep on the couch, Zach.”

  “Nah, I just need about an hour or two and I’ll be good to go.”

  We spent a few minutes going over the ground rules with the girls that they had to keep Sadie’s presence a secret and continue to go on about their day like they normally would, then I used the restroom. Their goddamned toilet computer was programmed with a female voice. It didn’t irritate me any less than my own.

  “Shit! Teagan,” I called through the door without flushing.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need some chemicals. Bleach, drain cleaner, perfume, anything liquid that can go in the toilet.”

  “Uh… Sure, hold on.”

  She brought me a bottle of fingernail polish remover that I added liberally to the contents of the bowl. It sent the toilet computer into overdrive, citing a string of problems that someone who had acetate in their urine could have. Then I flushed the contents down the drain.

  “Information from every flush is sent to the Louisiana Health Department for population monitoring,” I explained. “It’s for trend analysis and helps keep track of where certain diseases are concentrated, but it could also be used as a way to track somebody. If they took my profile from the toilet at my apartment and then searched for similar data across the city, they’d be able to narrow down the places to look for me.”

  “Wow. That’s really scary, Zach.”

  “It’s an interagency trick that we use to our advantage that most of the population doesn’t know about.”

  Teagan excused herself to give me some privacy. A quick scrub of my teeth with some toothpaste and my finger and I was as ready for bed as I was going to get.

  I walked out into the living room to see Sadie already stretched across the sofa, asleep. I checked to ensure the locks were engaged before sitting in the recliner. The girls were already in their bedrooms with the doors closed. I hoped that I made the right decision to come here.

  I sighed and leaned the recliner back all the way, getting as flat as I could to try and get a little bit of sleep.

  The small tchk of a door latch made me drop my hand to my gun until I heard the soft padding of feet on carpet from the hallway. I pretended to be asleep, watching Teagan’s lithe form standing at the corner of the room through lidded eyes.

  She seemed undecided about what to do. Finally, Teagan tiptoed across the living room to where I lay and she climbed up onto the chair with me. She curled up beside me, pressing her body into mine as I continued to feign sleep.

  “I love you, Zach Forrest,” she murmured into my chest.

  I waited until her breathing became even and peaceful to adjust my arm enough to allow circulation back into it. Pins and needles exploded across my skin as the blood rushed in.

  What a fine mess I’ve gotten myself into, I chastised myself silently and pulled the girl closer to me, relishing the feel of her warm body against mine.

  SIXTEEN: FRIDAY

  I overslept, enjoying the comfort of Teagan’s body next to mine. I ate breakfast quickly, sharing what felt like an awkward meal with the three women. One of them was enamored with me, one was annoyed that she was in this situation and wanted to fight, and the third kept trying to find ways to touch the second one accidentally. When it was time to go, I was thankful to be able to leave.

  “Take care of each other—and remember: don’t go outside the apartment today,” I added for Sadie’s benefit.

  “I don’t want to stay inside and miss everything that’s happening,” the older woman answered and then quickly held up her hands to ward off my protest. “I’ll do it for today, but I’m probably going to go crazy if it’s any longer than that.”

  “I can’t risk you getting picked up. If the mayor’s people pick you up off the street, we’re both done for. They’ll make you talk, and that puts both Rebecca and Teagan at risk as well.”

  She set her jaw and nodded. Staying inside and out of sight was no longer simply a matter of personal preference for her. Now our future was in Sadie’s hands.

  I glanced over at the girls in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast. “Thank you for letting us stay,” I said. “It means a lot to me that I can rely on such good friends.”

  Teagan smiled, but didn’t say anything, which left a gap that Rebecca was more than glad to fill. “You’re welcome, Zach. You guys weren’t any trouble at all. Besides, we love having guests over and entertaining.”

  I planned to go back down to the Dockyards to talk to Tommy Voodoo about why he was cloning businesspeople and I needed to follow up with Chris Young to ask him a few things.

  The vid screen in the living room flashed a few times with the words, “Killer Cop on the Loose.” The bottom of my stomach fell away and my fears were confirmed when my picture came up. “What the hell? Hey, how do you turn on the volume?”

  “Volume on,” Rebecca called from the kitchen.

  A female reporter’s voice filled the room. “Last night, at approximately 1:38 a.m., New Orleans Police Department Detective Zachary Forrest shot and killed another police officer in Easytown. Channel 12 News obtained the following video footage through the Consent to Surveil Act.”

  The scene switched to street light footage of me jogging through Easytown. “That’s from last night,” I muttered. I slowed as I neared the female officer and pulled a gun out of my pocket. “That was my phone, not a gun.”

  “As you can see,” the reporter said, “Forrest walked up and calmly shot Officer Karen Goldman, a mother of two, in the back of the head. He can be seen saying something to her, but she doesn’t appear to be able to hear him.”

  “That’s because the footage is doctored!” I shouted uselessly at the screen.

  Councilman Jefferson’s image appeared as he highlighted some of my past misconduct during a press conference. Mayor Cantrell was off to his right, visibly angry that one of his police officers would murder another.

  My picture returned and the reporter said, “The NOPD has issued a warrant for Forrest’s arrest. Anyone with any information is requested to call…”

  I turned back to the women. The looks on their faces must have mirrored mine. Shock. Anger. Disbelief.

  “You guys know I didn’t do that. I was here for Christ’s sake.”

  Rebecca was the first to speak. “I can’t believe they would do that. It’s illegal. We can all testify that you were here in the apartment after midnight.”

  “Zach, what are you going to do?” Teagan asked.

  “I’ve got to try and clear my name.”

  “You can’t go down to the police department,” Sadie cautioned. “They’ll arrest you and put you away without any type of trial. You’ll be out on that island before the day is over.”

  “I can handle myself inside Sabatier,” I responded. “But I’m not going to turn myself in. I know a witch hunt when I see one. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this and it looks like my timeline just sped up.”

  I put my Oxfords on and slid my arms through the sleeves of my coat.

  “Zach?”

  “Yeah, Teagan?”

  She came around the kitchen island to the little square of tile by the front door where I stood. “Be safe. Please.”

  “I always am.”

  “No, I’m serious. You’ve always had support from other officers in the police department. You don’t have that right no
w. Your chief may be on your side, but he’s got a career and a family that he has to worry about.”

  “Chief Brubaker would never do anything to hurt me.”

  “Maybe he wouldn’t, I don’t know him. What about all the others; the ones who don’t know the truth and think you’re a cop killer? Will they protect you?”

  “I’ll watch my back,” I replied, opening the door and ignoring her question. What did the damn kid know about anything out there in the real world? I’d proven myself time and again to the other cops; they knew that I didn’t do what the video showed me doing.

  Geez, I can’t even explain it to myself without sounding guilty.

  Teagan grabbed my arm and pulled me back inside, wrapping me in a hug. For the first time, I didn’t hesitate when I hugged her back.

  I tried to get in touch with Andi, but there wasn’t a response from her. They must have already went into my apartment and shut everything down. I hoped that she’d deleted the files from last night where she told me how to get to Teagan’s house. I just needed her to remove the reference to where we were going, anything else about Sadie’s escape or me driving manually wouldn’t matter.

  The drive to the docks went slowly as I sat in morning traffic. The Jeep had deep tinted windows, but I still tried to sink low whenever I passed by other cops. I hated doing it because it wasn’t like me. I was used to being the guy in charge of the situation, not an accused murderer slinking from place to place.

  After what seemed like hours, I finally reached the headquarters building for the Marie Leveau Shipping Company. I parked the Jeep out front and rushed inside.

  “Detective Forrest! Tommy isn’t expecting you,” Anastasia exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

  “Well I’m here,” I retorted. “If he’s really as innocent as he claims, he needs to talk to me. Now!”

  “I—”

  “Don’t give me any shit. I know the way.”

  I stormed down the hall toward the secret passageway. The unmistakable click of a safety being released on a weapon made me stop and raise my hands.

  “You are not authorized to see Mr. Ladeaux this morning.”

  I turned slowly back toward the receptionists. Betty stood behind her desk and held a giant pistol in her hand. The damn thing was pointed at my forehead.

  “Whoa! Let’s take a step back from the situation, Betty,” I said coolly, and then felt like an idiot. The droid didn’t need to be calmed down; she was simply following her programming. I took a few slow, tentative steps back toward the desk and when I passed whatever line she’d been instructed to guard, she sat back down and began typing once again. I had no idea where the gun went.

  “So, what am I supposed to do?” I asked, ambling slowly the rest of the way to the desk.

  “You may have a seat in our waiting area, sir,” Betty responded. “I will attempt to find space on Mr. Ladeaux’s calendar this morning.”

  “Let me call Tommy,” Anastasia suggested. “I’ll let him know that you’re here.”

  With nothing better to do, I sat in the waiting area. The vid screen showed me killing Karen Goldman repeatedly. It was horseshit. I’d pulled my phone out of my pocket when I passed her last night, not a gun, and they killed her because she was in the video. That poor family.

  How many more people had died because of this torture tourism ring? Voodoo said it was worth billions, but there were some hefty players involved here, was the money worth it to them? What did the mayor—a rich man by all accounts—have to do with this? Was it purely that he liked to torture people or was there something else, something even more sinister than that going on?

  A pair of long, cream-colored legs invaded my line of sight as I stared blankly at the floor in thought. “Mr. Ladeaux has graciously made room in his schedule to see you, Detective,” Anastasia said. “Please follow me.”

  I stood and followed her, glancing back at Betty when I crossed the point where she’d drawn on me before. The droid typed merrily away at a document, not paying any attention to me whatsoever.

  “This goes deeper than just torture,” Anastasia mumbled.

  “What was that?” I asked, catching up to her.

  “I said you’re lucky that Mr. Ladeaux could see you. He’s a very busy man.”

  Did I hear her right the first time?

  “No, the other part.”

  She looked at me and shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Forrest.”

  I knew what I heard, but she wasn’t going to say it again. She had the one opportunity to pass along a short message and I’d received it. What did she mean that it went deeper than torture? Who was she afraid of? Was it Voodoo or someone else?

  We went to Ladeaux’s decoy office.

  “Good morning, Detective Forrest,” Tommy Voodoo greeted me when we arrived. “I hear you’ve been a busy man.”

  “Not half as busy as someone wants people to think.”

  “Anastasia, please bring the detective some coffee. I believe you take it with cream and sugar, correct?”

  “I’m not going to be here long enough for a drink,” I replied. “I need info and I need it quick.”

  Voodoo leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “You see, we have two problems with your request.”

  “What’s that, Ladeaux?”

  “One, you’re no longer on the force. The mayor had you kicked off when you shot that other cop.”

  “It wasn’t me. Anyone with even half a brain knows that.”

  “They only know what the vid feeds tell them. It’s too hard for the masses to form their own opinion. With ‘indisputable’ video evidence like the news showed this morning, you’re already guilty.”

  “Hmpf,” I grunted. It was bullshit, but essentially true. It seemed like hardly anyone researched topics for themselves or thought too hard beyond what the media spoon-fed to them and public opinion was easy to manipulate.

  “The other problem is that you lied to me. You told me you found nine dead clones. Who is this Sadie person?”

  “She’s a clone.”

  “I know that. The original version of her runs my company. What I want to know is why you kept her a secret from me. We were supposed to be in this together.”

  “Wrong. We aren’t in anything together, Ladeaux. I’m trying to recover your prop—No, that’s not right. I’m trying to find missing persons and you’re the one giving me the information in exchange for keeping my friend’s rent affordable.”

  He picked at a piece of lint on his tailored suit. “You see it one way; I see it another.”

  “So Sadie is a businesswoman? She said she remembered being in board meetings and speaking in front of large groups.”

  “She’s modeled after Kelsey Bloomfield, the Chief Operations Officer of Biologiqué International. No children. Has a few animals—maybe a dog? I can’t really remember.”

  Voodoo leaned forward once more. “There, I just told you exactly what you wanted to know when you went to the media to ask for their help. If you’d simply come to me with the truth that the clone was alive, we could have avoided this disaster.”

  “Well, shit, Ladeaux. You don’t have the best reputation. And to be honest, I’m still not entirely sure what your role is in all of this. Your company made these clones, they got away from you somehow, inexplicably, and instead of going public with the info, you wanted to keep it quiet that there’s a multi-billion dollar torture industry in New Orleans. Add to that the fact that you coerced me into finding the clones by purchasing the building where my lifelong friend’s business is located… Do you think I can trust you?”

  “Please, Detective. Let’s be civil,” he protested against my questioning of his credibility. He squirmed in his seat for a moment before turning to the computer screen and tapping a few icons. The familiar absence of noise descended upon the office as a white noise generator enveloped the room.

  “Have you ever stopped to wonder why the bodies of clones are destroyed immediately?”
he asked. “Why the mayor is explicitly clear when it comes to clone politics, and not much else?”

  “I think it’s complete and utter bullshit. You don’t destroy evidence, ever. And doing so before a case is closed makes me think they’re hiding something—like being involved in the torture tourism that Sadie accused him of. But I’m not sure I’m following you on the politics piece,” I admitted.

  He nodded. “You’re exactly right. It’s all about the destruction of evidence. Covering up the lie.”

  He adjusted in the chair once more and pointed at the sound-dampening equipment in the corner. “Do you really think I’d be concerned about gamblers and two-bit street thugs? There’s more security in this building than you could imagine, I’m quite secure against common criminals. This goes much higher than you’re thinking—and they’re certainly willing to kill a few cops and sweep aside investors like me to make sure they keep a good thing going.”

  “Do you mean the mayor is involved like Sadie claims?” If I could get a second person to come forward, we might have a chance of opening an actual investigation against him.

  Voodoo tapped the side of his nose. “More than involved, Forrest. Mayor Cantrell is the architect of this scheme. When it all started out, he commissioned a clone of himself. It was supposed to be used as an organ donor in case he ever became ill. I knew about it and I even agreed with it. Then, about a month ago, I learned that he’d made an arrangement behind my back with Kelsey Bloomfield. She began cloning government officials, businessmen and women, and influential people in the state. They weren’t willing participants.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She sent me a few documents, trying to play both sides I imagine. Her paperwork told me about the thirty-eight clones—but there’s probably more. Then all communications from Bloomfield ceased. I didn’t know what they were truly after by cloning those people until I watched the video of Sadie. Now I know.”

  Everything clicked in my mind. “Kleer didn’t buy the clones from you,” I interrupted him. “He took them. This isn’t about recovering the clones for humanitarian reasons. This is damage control. You’re worried that this is going to get out and then everything will come crashing down. Billions in potential revenue, gone.”