by Paula Stokes
It’s impossible to move independent of the ViSE. I know this, but I’m dying to turn back and study the crowd, to see who Rose and Natalie are talking about. But I stay trapped in her body and let the recording play out until the end, my eyes doing their absolute best to scan the blurry figures for anyone who might be familiar. The dancing continues for a few more songs, but I don’t see anyone I recognize, and as far as I can tell, neither does my sister. She works the crowd, dancing with several attractive guys but never letting them get too close.
I stop the recording and open my eyes. The real world rushes back all at once—the stark black and white of my room in direct contrast to the pulsing lights and garishly bright dresses at Zoo.
Removing the headset, I massage my temples for a few moments. I breathe in and out slowly until my nausea subsides. Then I find a blank notebook and a permanent marker in one of my drawers and open it to the first page. I write #1 and next to it the words NYE fashion show. I label the memory card with a 1. Next line: #2: Zoo dancing. I label that card with a 2.
I grab my phone and scroll through the list of contacts to find Natalie. She’s only in my phone because Gideon made all of his recorders exchange numbers, but judging from the way she and Rose joked on the ViSE, my sister knew her better than I do. I leave a voice mail message asking her to call me back. Reluctantly, I slip the headset back over my ears.
I’m about to start the next ViSE when my phone rings. I pick it up expecting Natalie, but it turns out to be Jesse.
“How are you doing?” His words are slow and precise. Hostage negotiator voice.
“I’m all right.”
“Are you still at the gym?”
“No, sorry. I was just getting ready to call you.”
“You stayed at the gym for three hours?”
“I’ve been home for a little while,” I hedge. “You want to help me with something else?”
A pause. A long breath. “With what?”
I fidget with one of the prongs on my headset. “I need to get into Zoo.”
“I thought you were going to Inferno.”
Damn it. I forgot all about that when I found Rose’s ViSEs. “I can get into Inferno on my own, but I know my sister also did some work at Zoo lately. Natalie told me there was a creepy guy there who seemed like he was watching Rose.” I push away a prickle of guilt. Technically not a lie. Natalie did tell me, on the ViSE. And I’m sure she’ll tell me again once she calls back.
Jesse whistles long and low. “Until something even flashier opens up, Zoo is kind of off-limits to commoners like you and me, even on a Sunday night. You’d have to be a rock star or a professional athlete to—”
Perfect. I cut him off. “Never mind. You just gave me a great idea.”
“I did?”
“I ran into Andy Lynch in the gym. I bet I can get him to take me.”
Jesse makes a choking sound. “After that fumble on the four-yard line, he might not be cool enough to get in either.”
“Be nice. So he got nervous and screwed up. He was on the news. He’s on the cover of Sports Weekly. That’s cool enough for Zoo.”
“I didn’t know you read Sports Weekly,” Jesse says dryly.
“I don’t. Some guy came up to Andy when we were working out and—”
“So now you’re gym buddies with Andy Lynch? I thought you liked working out alone.”
“Seriously? Now is not the time to get jealous,” I say. “Besides, he’s in love with Rose, all right? Apparently they were dating. He was working out downstairs hoping to catch a glimpse of her on his way in or out.”
“I’m not jealous,” Jesse says. “But think about it. Rose gets killed, possibly because of a ViSE, and now Andy Lynch is suddenly your best pal? Maybe he had something to do with it.”
“Andy?” I scoff. “Doubtful. He seems more like a puppy than a murderer.”
“If you say so.” Jesse still sounds a bit miffed. “But Gideon is going to want me to go with you.”
The phone beeps. I look down at the display. Natalie. “I have another call I have to take,” I say. “I’ll call you back.” I switch over.
“Hey, Winter,” Natalie says. Her voice has that “heaping with sympathy” sound to it and right away I can tell someone has told her about Rose.
“Hi. I guess you heard about my sister. I’ve been playing some of her ViSEs and I saw one with you two at Zoo.”
“Yeah?”
“You and Rose were dancing. You said some guy had been staring at her.”
“I did?” Natalie doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Sorry, I’ve run into her more than once at Zoo, and I get pretty trashed when I go clubbing.”
“It was a night Lamar Silver was there. The guy you were talking about was wearing a long gray leather coat.”
“Oh, right, the guy in the hat and coat. Who keeps their coat on at a dance club? Yeah, I saw him checking out your sister several times that night.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“No,” she says. “But Rose didn’t seem worried about him.”
“Did you see him there more than once?” I ask.
Natalie exhales deeply. “Maybe? I’m not sure. Sorry.”
“Do you know if my sister was dating Andy Lynch?” I ask suddenly.
Natalie coughs. “The quarterback?”
“Yes.”
“If she was, she never mentioned him.” Natalie pauses. “I always got the feeling Rose wasn’t looking for a relationship.”
“Could the guy at Zoo have been Andy Lynch?”
“Hmm. I don’t think so, but I can’t say for sure.”
“That’s all right,” I say. “Did she ever seem worried to you? Afraid?”
“I only knew her from the clubs, but Rose never seemed afraid of anything or anyone,” Natalie says. “At least as far as I could tell.”
CHAPTER 14
As soon as I hang up with Natalie, I call Andy.
He picks up immediately. I can hear the clanging of weight stacks in the background. “I went back to the gym,” he says.
And I thought I was obsessed with exercise. “Don’t you have stuff to do besides work out?”
“Officially I don’t go back to school for another week. Assuming I go back at all.” He clears his throat. “Exercise helps keep my mind off stuff, you know?”
“I do,” I say. “I’m calling to ask you for a favor. I still haven’t heard from my sister and I’m starting to worry. She actually didn’t come home last night. I didn’t want to tell you that earlier, because I figured you’d assume, well, that she was with another guy. But I don’t think that’s what it is.” Without mentioning ViSEs or Rose’s job as a recorder, I try to explain why I want to go to Zoo. “I know Rose has gone there multiple times recently and I talked to one of her friends who said a guy there seemed to be following her around.”
“But if you really think something might’ve happened to her, shouldn’t you get the police involved?” Andy asks.
“I did,” I say. “We talked to a detective, but Rose has stayed out all night before and he didn’t seem all that concerned. I’m going a little crazy just sitting around, though. I’d feel better if I were out looking for her.” I’m amazed by how easily the half-truths flow from my tongue. After talking to Andy in the gym, my gut doesn’t really think he had anything to do with what happened to Rose, but I still can’t bring myself to tell him the whole story.
“Okay. I can get you into Zoo,” Andy says, his relaxed voice going taut with worry. “It still packs up every night, though. It’ll be easier to get in if we go earlier.”
“Maybe ten?” I suggest.
“Sounds good. I can pick you up.”
“All right.”
I hang up and check the time. I’ve got about two hours to go through more of Rose’s ViSEs. The next one is a recording of Rose bungee jumping from a bridge downtown during last year’s Fourth of July celebration. It’s a ViSE that Gideon probably would’ve assigned to me
if crowds didn’t make me so uncomfortable. No one stands out on the recording except for Rose, Gideon, and a man from the ropes company.
Next.
I’m sitting in the audience of an auditorium. Around me, a few people are raising their hands in the air, but most are slinking down in their seats, feigning interest in their phones. My hand is waving wildly. The guy on stage points at me and suddenly I’m being escorted from my seat by a couple of stagehands.
“Are you afraid of knives?” the man asks. He’s a full head taller than me with hair as black as raven feathers and eyes to match. He’s wearing all black except for a satin cape adorned with silvery stars and moons.
It’s the circus, I realize. I can’t remember how long ago the circus was in town.
I shake my head as I stare at the trio of shiny blades in the man’s hand. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
A murmur runs through the crowd. The man sets the knives on a nearby stool and wraps his lean fingers around mine. He kisses the back of my hand.
“Good. You have nothing to worry about. I almost never miss.”
Another murmur from the crowd, this one tinged with laughter.
The knife thrower’s assistant leads me to a wooden wheel at the far end of the stage. She looks critically at my outfit and declares in a thick accent that I will be fine. I step onto wooden pegs for my feet and she secures my wrists and ankles with leather straps.
She produces a black silk handkerchief from some invisible pocket in her sequined costume. “Do you wish for a blindfold?” she asks.
I shake my head. My heart pounds as the assistant walks toward the far side of the stage. Music plays from the speakers as the knife thrower shows his three knives to a man in the front row to prove they are real. Then the knife thrower casually juggles them as he steps up to a line directly across from me.
Our eyes meet. He sets two of the knives on the stool and lifts the third one high in the air. Fear races through my veins as the overhead lights glint off the blade. The thrower kisses the tip of the blade and then rears back his arm. A sharp thunk sounds from the area of my left ear. He lifts the second knife with an exaggerated flourish. My whole body tenses. He throws again. This one thunks to the right of my head. The third knife lands between my legs.
I pause the recording for a second, holding one hand to my chest in a feeble attempt to slow my racing heart. I can’t believe my sister recorded this ViSE without a blindfold. It wouldn’t have been nearly as exciting without the sense of sight, but still. I got so enthralled by it I forgot I was supposed to be looking for clues.
I start the recording again, trying my best to study the faces of the performers and audience members, looking for anyone who seems familiar or out of place.
The thrower’s assistant fetches the knives from the wooden circle. She returns to his side and pulls out her blindfold again.
“Now do you want a blindfold?” the man asks.
I shake my head as the assistant blindfolds him. The audience gasps. My body goes tense with fear.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. This time the knives land on either side of my chest and above my head. The assistant retrieves them again and returns them to the still-blindfolded knife thrower.
“And now, for the pièce de résistance,” the knife thrower starts.
A stagehand comes up and double-checks the leather straps holding me to the wheel. Then he straps the assistant to a second set of buckles so her body is perpendicular to mine.
“I will take a blindfold,” she says. “I am not as brave as our audience volunteer.”
There is a rustling noise as the crowd whispers again. The assistant’s body is pressed against mine, pinning me tightly against the wooden wheel. And then the stagehand gives a lever on the side of the wheel a sharp yank. I close my eyes for a second as I start to move. But then I open them. The room is spinning. The crowd is gasping. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. The knives hit in rapid succession. The audience cheers. I expel a sharp breath. My muscles go weak with relief. The stagehand helps both of us off the wheel. I smooth the wrinkles from my form-fitting dress and lift a hand to my head to make sure my wig is still tightly pinned in place. The crowd rises to its feet as the assistant and I sashay into the spotlight. The knife thrower meets us center stage.
Movement at the side of the auditorium catches my eye. It’s just a silhouette, thanks to the harsh stage lights, but I see a guy in a long coat and a hat turn and head up the far aisle. My temples begin to pound, the pain radiating to my forehead.
Nausea begins to well in my gut. My phone rings. I ignore it. I need to see who is in the coat.
I try to focus on the shadowy figure but it’s impossible because Rose isn’t interested in him. She’s linking arms with the knife thrower and his assistant, taking multiple bows while the audience cheers.
My phone rings again. I pause the ViSE and open my eyes slowly. The pounding at my temples is crescendoing now. My stomach is roiling violently.
“Hello?” I say, my voice wavering slightly.
It’s Jesse. “Hey. Just wanted to let you know I’m coming back up. Are you going to Zoo?”
“Can you hold on for a minute?” I ask. Dropping the phone before he has a chance to respond, I rush to the bathroom, fall to my knees, and vomit into the toilet. My nausea quickly subsides, but my headache still lingers. I rinse my mouth out with warm water, and then make my way back to my bedroom.
Collapsing on my bed, I grab my phone again. “All right, I’m back.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yes. And yes, I’m going to Zoo. Andy is picking me up around ten.”
“I want to come with you,” Jesse says.
“I can handle Andy Lynch,” I say sharply. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Please, Winter?”
I expected Jesse to threaten to call Gideon if I didn’t let him have his way. This one-word plea takes me by surprise. Affection stirs in my chest, an unfamiliar feeling. I soften. “Fine, you can come, but I don’t know if Andy’s going to be able to get you in or not.”
“It’s not really my scene, anyway. If he can’t, I’ll just prowl around outside waiting for you, but at least I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
“All right. Dress as nice as possible just in case. Zoo is pretty strict with the dress code.”
“Got it,” Jesse says. “I don’t have much in the way of clubbing clothes. I might have to go buy something. Should I bring my headset?”
“No. You don’t need to. I can wear one of Rose’s wigs.”
“Okay. See you later. Call me in the meantime if you need anything.”
“I will.” I hang up the phone and finish the circus recording, but the guy in the coat and hat is gone. I remove my headset and label the memory card with a 3. I tuck the notebook and Rose’s music box into the locked cabinet where I keep my recorder headset and copies of my own ViSEs. Tomorrow I’ll play the rest of her recordings. I wish I could do them all now, but the overlay is hitting me too hard. If I push it, the pain and nausea will dilute my focus and I could miss something important.
Besides, it’s time to find an outfit to wear to Zoo. Like Jesse, I don’t own any clothes fancy enough to get me into the city’s most popular club, so I venture back into my sister’s room and head for her closet.
I skim past the first three garments—including the dress with the fringe I thought she was wearing last night. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to envision her outside the bathroom again, spinning in front of the full-length mirror. I lift the scarlet fabric to my face for a closer look. I know it was this dress. Why would she have come home and changed?
Sighing, I flip past the last couple dresses until my hand stops at a short, silky number at the very back of the closet that’s more free flowing than form fitting. Like most of Rose’s dresses, it’s red. I hold it up against me in the mirror. I look like a totally different person, but not one that scares me. I remove my long-sleeved T-shirt and pull the dress over my head.
I duck back into Rose’s closet to look for other options and notice a pair of black leggings balled up on the floor. My breathing returns to normal as I slide them on. Better. I start looking for a pair of shoes to match.
In addition to the pair of strappy heels she has tucked inside the front door, she’s got five other pairs of shoes tossed haphazardly on the floor of her closet, three of which are so tall and sparkly that they look like part of a circus performer’s uniform. I find some black suede boots with a medium heel and decent ankle support. Shaking out my hair, I let it fall forward so the edges skim my shoulders and then apply my standard eyeliner. I’m ready.
Except I forgot about my headset.
I pull my hair into a low ponytail and then grab my headset from my room and slide it on. Heading back into Rose’s room, I don the wavy black wig and adjust it so it hides the metal prongs. Soft tendrils curl around my face. I peek at myself in the mirror—not too bad—and then check the clock. It’s only nine thirty. There’s plenty of time to walk over to Inferno and find out if anyone there saw Rose last night.
* * *
Inferno is only a parking lot away, but my skin is red and raw from the frigid wind by the time I slip into the building. The lobby is decorated all in red and black—art deco, minimalist, as simple as Gideon’s building is opulent. Stairs at the back of the lobby lead down into the club. There’s no line yet since it’s still early. There’s not even a bouncer.