by A. J. Mayall
The girl shook and rose, peeling the shirt off her back, glad her captors had left her with a sports bra. At least it was too bright in here to be seen by the men. She clung to Emma, who drooped before lifting her. Caroline did her best to steady herself, raising her covered hands above her head. Reaching. Reaching. Reaching. Contact. She heard Emma grunting under her.
“Emma, I feel the ceiling! What do you want me to do?”
“Punch it. Punch it as hard as you can. Maybe the glass isn’t as thick as what they reinforced the bottom with.”
Caroline pulled her hands to her chest then thrust them up. A loud thud, then a whimper from the girl echoed. The second attempt made Joel, Emma, and Caroline’s hearts jump; they heard a small crack. Emma lowered the girl, exhausted.
“I think I can break it! Lift me back up.”
Emma crouched and cradled Caroline’s face in her palms. “Not yet. If broken glass or sharp plastic comes down, we need to be prepared for that. We’ll do it soon, after Todd gets his nap.”
There was a tear of fabric, then again, then again. Caroline and Joel received blindfolds like Todd’s.
Todd stirred. “Not fallen asleep yet, by the way. C’mon everyone, let’s try to get some shut-eye. We can plan our grand escape when we wake up.”
They lay in the room, atop discarded clothes, blindfolded. It took some time, due to the heat of the room, but one by one, they fell asleep.
And bit by bit, the room dimmed.
CHAPTER 4
Suzette DiMarco checked newsfeeds at her desk. She swiped a news channel icon from the desktop upwards. This activated the television and tuned it to the proper station. A young, blonde, smiling woman greeted the audience, welcoming them to the early afternoon news.
“Today in Rouge Mal, entrepreneur Reginald Gemini, co-CEO of Ahkriman-Gemini Incorporated, revealed the plans to help the city’s struggles with its budget. Here is footage from that conference.”
AGI was one of the largest companies in the country, and their headquarters in Rouge Mal was an asset to many in the city. Electronics, optics, plastics, food, energy; there was little AGI didn’t have a hand in on some level. To see one of the men behind the company, you’d never know it.
Reginald Gemini stood behind a simple steel and glass podium, security flanking him, an interpreter for the hearing impaired to the side. For a man of such power, the first thing many noted was how unbelievably average he was. He was almost immediately forgettable, aside from his fortune. His dark brown hair was combed back, revealing a widow’s peak. His eyes were slightly sunken, as were his cheekbones, though he had a hint of jowl from age. He was slight in build, below-average in stature. It was as if God had found the median of all mankind, and turned it down just a hair, then put him in charge of a powerful industrial conglomerate.
“Hello, everyone gathered.” He stammered a bit, clearing his throat. He wiped a fine bead of sweat from his brow with his sleeve as he straightened up, looking over his slightly hooked nose at his notes, not that he needed them. “My name is Reginald Gemini. Since there always seems to be a bit of confusion, yes, it is spelled like the astrological sign, but it is pronounced again…GEM-MEAN-EE.”
He chuckled as he waved to some of the gathered reporters. “Sorry, pet peeve. I stand before you at our corporate headquarters in Rouge Mal, a city with one of the lowest homeless populations, but, sadly, a rising crime rate. Our teachers are underpaid, our police force is understaffed. We at AGI want to put a stop to this. We want to give back to the city that has been our home for the past eight years. To this end, we are giving the city a blank check. We do not care what they use it for, so long as it goes to the city and its citizens. You are our brothers, our sisters, fathers and sons, mothers and daughters. We are all in this together, and if our profits can help this city, then that, in turn, helps us.”
He paused as a woman approached and passed him a memo. He nodded to her then returned his attention to the conference.
“I remember, growing up in Vancouver, my mother instilled in me a need to make sure my house was always in order, because you never know who might come by unexpectedly.” He paused again, taking a drink of water. “Our city, while by no means in poor condition, is sliding back and I for one am going to keep my house clean. We want nothing from the city in return. All I ask is that funding requests be forthright and transparent. The moment I learn our generosity is lining the pockets of a politician, you’ll hear it from me.”
There was applause from the audience that he quickly quieted down with a nervous smile.
“Do not presume I will only take requests from City Hall. If you are a fireman and you need new equipment, send in the request and I’ll see to it you get what you need to keep us safe. Any school that needs new textbooks, more teachers, had better be prepared to make the deal that you will triple your staff’s salary. AGI has one simple philosophy: ‘Be and associate with only the best.’ Rouge Mal is the best, and we’re about to make you better. Are there any questions?”
The perky face of the blonde showed again as the still image of Gemini rested over her left shoulder.
“Amazing news for the struggling city budget, and now to Cecil with the weather.”
Suzette was unsure what to make of the bleeding-heart philanthropist’s claim. If it was genuine, it was a great act of generosity; if not, it was business as usual. She swiped the power button toward the TV, turning it off. As she idled there, she logged into HiveMind, sampling the day’s funny images in their constant stream. Cute baby animals followed by celebrity images with humorous false subtitles. She gave HiveMind the better part of 5 minutes before Gemini would be trending.
She spun in her chair and got out her phone, dialing up her grandmother. It rang twice before she heard Francesca’s voice. It was gentle, yet strong and confident.
“Hello, Suzette, is that you?”
“Hey, Grandma, yeah. Just taking a little break here. How are things at the hotel?”
She smiled. Francesca was one of the few people who brought out the better side of her normally abrasive personality.
“Oh, business as usual. Your father still insists I let him take it over, but I’m more than capable of keeping the staff in their place. They are a good lot, after all. I don’t tolerate fools.”
Suzette leaned back, listening to her grandmother’s sunny voice. “I don’t either. I’ll talk to Dad about leaving you be.”
“You tolerate Phoenix. Don’t see why you stay there. Especially after he’s late on paying back his loans.”
Suzette perked up, shushing her elder. “Phoenix is doing his best, and he has a new case. We don’t have the best working relationship, but it feels right. He pays well too, even at his own expense. Frankly, I don’t mind being his pair of balls, since half the time he doesn’t want to grow a pair.”
“Suzette, I’m an old woman! Such language…” Francesca snipped.
“Says the woman who said, ‘If you can’t be a tough broad, there’s no point in getting out of bed to warn the day it had better get on with itself.’”
“Exactly! You sounded like you were going soft. Kick his ass into gear. We both know what he is and he’s not the first one I’ve dealt with.”
Suzette smiled, knowing a story was coming soon. She loved to hear the tales of her grandmother back in the day. She had fallen in love with one of Phoenix’s predecessors, the man who had left her the Chester Building, the largest and best hotel in all of Rouge Mal.
“Grandma, I’ll be over later if work doesn’t pile up. Mom and Dad have been…well, you know…and the hotel is closer than my apartment. We also need to talk about Pyramidion.”
“Oh, good, he knows. If we have a free room, you’re welcome to stay. Anything you want for dinner? I’ll have Chef whip you up something.”
Suzette felt warmth in her cheeks. “I’ll call you when I think of something, okay?”
“All right, dear.”
“I love you, Grandma.”
&
nbsp; “Twice as much, back to you. Give McGee a kick in the pants from me, next you see him.”
“Will do, just cut him some slack.”
Suzette ended the call and turned back to her work. She perused the various articles she had found on the very interesting times of Mrs. Benton: news reports, forum discussions, correspondence that had been made public. It was amazing what you could find if you knew what sites to search.
Watchdog groups kept an eye on the police force, making requests at the right offices, using free information disclosure laws to get data out to the public. The shame is that no one was interested in it. Suzette found that (among many other things) contemptible about people. Paying lip service to public outrage was sexy in today’s connected society. It was trendy to fight the good fight, as long as it didn’t get between the recent viral memes.
She sat back and collected the information, getting another hard copy for the files and turned her attention back to her book, turning the pages and indulging herself in a knowing smile.
It had taken Phoenix ten minutes to reach the Bentons’ house. It was the sort of red brick, slightly-larger-than-what-a-family-needed sort of house you saw in family comedies; two-car garage, red door, and perfect white paint in the middle of suburbia. It was an admirable, welcoming house.
Jeremy’s car was in the driveway, he noted, so he swooped toward the door. Ringing the doorbell set off a lovely seven chime tune, and with a quick click of a lock turning, Jeremy swung open the door, hurrying him inside.
“Mr. Benton, are you certain you want to go through with this?”
Phoenix held the pudgy man’s gaze as he laid the bag on a nearby table. The choice Mr. Benton was about to make risked his marriage, his future. If he accepted, he was choosing truth over ignorant bliss.
Benton looked at the detective and the bag before he gave a couple quick nods, his jowls quivering. He felt shame, but he had to know.
“Very well,” McGee said simply, unzipping the bag and unpacking its contents. “I need to put these where they won’t be seen. I’ll also show you the manifest of everything I have, and allow you to inspect and count. This way you know no monitoring devices will be left over or used after this investigation.”
“Th…thank you, Mr. McGee.” He paused, rubbing his temples with his fingertips as he inspected everything. He felt as if he were looking at illegal arms or drugs. It felt wrong to him, but the way Marge had been acting, sharing looks with some of the men in the office, pushing him aside in her affections, he had to know. “Everything looks to be in order, where do you want to put them?”
“There should be one in every major room. None in the bathrooms, though; I will give you your privacy. Many people who know they’re being recorded give it away by acting different. For this to work, I need you to be natural.”
Benton again nodded, guiding Phoenix around the house. He planted small cameras between books, in the ceiling, out of sight under family photos.
After Phoenix did that, he took the HubKits and placed them in the universal input slots on two fliptops and the home computer. The small device fit snugly into the port, almost undetectable; you could even plug something into the port through it. When indicator light flashed a light blue, Phoenix called Suzette, who answered after a few rings.
“Grandma sends her love.”
“Oh, she can feel that? I have the HubKits set up, and the cams are installed. Can you verify?”
Suzette flicked on the two side monitors she had set up for the investigation, as well as double-checking the FogDrive nearby. Standalone networks were a pain, but if they were monitoring computer activity, they wanted deniability. Having private files on their networks never looked good. Also, if things turned sour, they wanted to be able to hand over the Fog and be done with it.
“I’ve got the computers online. I’ve got the Flip on top of the Fog. I see ten cameras, but you’ll have to adjust a couple of them. I have two Flip connections: a home computer and a tablet. Pulling out all the stops, eh? You warned him about not keeping an open network going, right? When we start monitoring, it’s hard to tell the program not to go deeper.”
“He’s been informed. It’s in the contract, but I’ll remind him before I leave. You mentioned cameras needing tweaking…”
Phoenix adjusted the devices while on the phone with Suzette. Jeremy, meanwhile, sat in his bedroom, looking over the wedding photos they kept on the nightstand. Seven years they had been together. A tear welled up as he lay back on the bed, clutching the picture of happier times to his heart. He knew, due to the nature of work, that there had to be distance between Marge and him, but he never thought it would come to this.
His past suspicions had flared again and far more when her old friends from the force became more of a presence at the office. There was a deal in the works with the Rouge Mal PD, but her former colleagues looked at him strangely. When he would approach the office for their usual lunch dates, the blinds were drawn. When she came home, she had a strange smell around her. When no one else was around, her attention to him, and her neglect of him, had changed.
He was certain of infidelity but he needed the proof. He scowled, kissing the image of the woman he had fallen in love with, and the one he yearned to be reunited with, before setting it back on the nightstand.
Phoenix had entered the room shortly after, paying Benton no attention as he muttered to his partner.
“Suzette, fine, I’ll pick you up something on the way back. No, you aren’t leaving early. No…yes. No! Suzette, I have to…Suzette!” He glanced to Jeremy, embarrassed. “I’ll see you soon. Bye. Yes. No. BYE!”
Phoenix ended the call and pocketed the phone, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his jacket.
“Sorry about that. You should be set up.”
Jeremy looked once more at the detective, wearing his goofy smile, before looking to the wedding photo over which he drew his fingers.
“Sam Maxwell. I think she’s cheating on me with Officer Sam Maxwell.” He hung his head as the tears flowed. McGee stepped in to put a hand on his shoulder.
“Whether she is or isn’t, you need to know.” He squeezed Benton’s shoulder gently. “I’ll make a note of Sam Maxwell when I get back to the office. Suzette is gonna love having to do more research…” He groaned as he stood up. “You’re set up on a private Fog, as stated in the contract.”
“Mr. McGee, can I ask you a question about your secretary?” Jeremy looked up, a sorrowful smile on his face. “How did the two of you meet? I mean, she’s abrasive; why give her a job?”
“I met her through her grandmother. Let me tell you, the attitude stays in the family. I owe her a lot. A hell of a lot.” He paused, adding, “Both of them, actually. A few years back, I was in a serious bind; Suzette got mixed up in it and without her…I’d most likely be dead. She’s strong-willed, but that’s not a bad thing. I need someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty. In the end, she’s one of my best friends, one of my only friends. Some days I loathe her, but I know she has my back. She tolerates all my bad habits, so the least I can do is afford her hers.”
Benton set the wedding photo face-down on the nightstand.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. McGee. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll leave you to let yourself out.”
The detective exited quickly. A quick look on the HandyEyes he passed on his way to the door made him secure in the knowledge they wouldn’t be detected.
As he exited the house, he took a moment to admire the neighborhood. He hoped one day to have a nice little home in suburbia, but he was too much of a city guy right now. As he concentrated, he manipulated the forces of gravity around him, lifting and propelling him into the air.
Once airborne, he fished out his Scarface and slid the strip down his cheek, dialing back Suzette.
“I’m on my way home and need you to look up Sam Maxwell.”
“I’ve seen that name in the reports, he’s one of the Stygus.”
He soare
d overhead, listening to Suzette tap on her keyboard.
“Oh, this is nice. Are you looking to make enemies today?” She laughed, continuing, “This guy is the head of a special division in the RMPD, all Stygus. I’m seeing a lot of the names from before on here too. You think he’s the one?”
“Fairly certain of it; Mr. Benton gave me the name.”
Suzette gave a whistle. “Be fun to see what happens if this goes down as we thought.”
McGee squinted, making a beeline for his loft, still a few miles out.
“Still feel like I forgot to do something, Suzette. I’m sure it’s just average pre-monitoring paranoia…”
“See you in a few minutes. Then, may I take an early day? Since you aren’t bringing back food, and all.”
“Fine, but I thought you’d want to see the juicy details if Mrs. Benton brings her man home.”
“Call me if something goes down. I just wish I knew what was going on in the mind of our esteemed Officer Maxwell.”
CHAPTER 5
Sam Maxwell sat at his desk, feet propped up, looking at Jack.
“Hey, Omega, go get me another seltzer.”
The rookie met his gaze, averting it a moment later, darting off to the soda machine. Sam smiled. His Pack was doing well after this recent addition.
The Pack was Rouge Mal Police’s premier investigative team. They had heightened senses due to lycanthropy, and their tenacity when pursuing suspects was second to none. The Chief had given them some special clearance in how they operated, in accordance with the laws and regulations for employing Stygus.
For one, the standard two-person team was thrown out the window. The Pack hunted together, or not at all. If a situation only called for two or three, so be it, but they weren’t professionally separated. They even had their own office.
As off-putting as they tended to be, they were some of the most decorated officers in the city, possibly the state. They even had their own bowling team. It wasn’t their strong suit, though, being second from last for the RMPD leagues.