As the video played, Jack watched as what looked an awful lot like himself walked into an office and shook the doctor’s hand—that redheaded weasel of a man, Henry Jekyll. There could be no mistaking him now that the man’s wretched face was forever singed into Jack’s memory. But that second man—that clone—wasn’t Jack! It couldn’t be! Jack found himself speechless as the Jekyll in the video went on some long, medical spiel about using blood and experimenting with it against different antibodies. The Jack lookalike in the video looked eager to obey the doctor and signed a paper.
“That’s not me! I never signed a paper!” Jack objected.
McVickers paused the video. In response, Stanley slid a piece of paper out of the file and across to Jack. Tapping the contract, he asked, “Is this your signature?”
Jack’s head fell into his hand the longer he stared at the messy penmanship identical to his own. He held the paper up and examined it for print pixels, but the pen that forged the name left indents on the paper. “How did he…?”
Officer Stanley gently took the paper back. “Is it your handwriting?” he repeated.
“Yes, but—”
“We’ll proceed then.” He nodded to his partner.
McVickers played the video, letting it skip to a new scene. The footage was in the same room, only a woman was there instead of Jack. She seemed calm but a bit nervous, following the same steps the Jack duplicate from the first video had.
Jack scrutinized the screen, trying to place the woman. “Who is this?”
“This is Hester Prynne.” Stanley pulled out another contract and waved it in front of Jack, showing a different signature before setting it back in the file. “She was there as well. You don’t recognize her?”
Jack shook his head. “No.”
They both watched him for a moment.
“Really?” Stanley challenged.
“Really.”
The officer pressed his mouth into a hard line and glanced over at his partner, giving a nod.
Officer McVickers let the DVD shift to the last scene. It showed the inside of the warehouse at a bad angle, with only one table filled with different chemicals on the left side of the screen and the door visible. Jekyll came in, holding the door open for the woman who wore a white hospital gown. She walked to the right, out of view, but the doctor spoke to her, thanking her for cooperating with the physical and repeating procedure explanations like he had in the first video. After a minute, the scientist walked over to the far side of the camera’s view then returned with a syringe, only to partially disappear from the shot when he got to the woman. When he came back into frame, he had a full vial of blood in his hand, which he set down on the table next to the camera. Then Jekyll turned to the door and welcomed Jack into the room. Jack silently sat in the chair near the table on the left, wearing a medical gown identical to the woman’s. The doctor took a sample of Jack’s blood, grabbed the woman’s files, and walked out. There was a moment of silence before Jack’s TV alter-ego bolted into action.
In a flash, he flung the table over, sending all the multicolored chemicals crashing to the ground. Then he lit a match and tossed it in the mess, watching it catch flame before darting out. After he left, the woman frantically jumped up and tried stamping out the fire, but there was a sudden popping noise and the fire jumped up. Shocked, she rocked back, knocking over more chemicals, which only fed the fire.
The doctor ran in, barely visible behind the wall of flames. He reached next to the camera and quickly pulled a pile of files against his chest. Then he reached with his free hand to the electronic device. The camera rocked and the video ended.
Officer McVickers shut off the TV and leaned against the stand, giving a condescending grin. “Mr. Blevins, can you tell me why the man in those videos looked exactly like you?”
Jack’s throat tightened, disheartened. He had no answer.
“Was it a duplicate?” He chuckled once.
Jack’s logical brain kicked back in. “What about Hester Prynne? What does she have to say about all of this?”
Stanley folded his hands over the file. “Mrs. Prynne is missing. Has been, apparently, since the fire.”
Jack’s hands began to shake. Sweat beaded against his temples.
“You know, it’s funny that we have evidence that you burned down a lab when there have been quite a few fires as of recent.” Officer McVickers began to pace in front of the mirror, feigning deep contemplation. “Franklin Stein was the first victim, burnt to death in the lab where he worked. Liza Stein was the second, missing from her fire-consumed home. And just Monday morning, before you showed up, both Mr. and Mrs. Stein perished in their own house fire. Dante Stein is missing, to top it off. What do you have to say to all this?” He stopped and glared at Jack.
So many pleas filled Jack’s head. His brain tried to ration out explanations for everything, but he fell short at the absurdity of all the fake evidence stacked against him. For the first time in a long time, Jack didn’t have a real answer. He opened his mouth to force something—anything—out.
Officer McVickers cleared his throat and reached to his belt. “Do you know what this means, Mr. Blevins?”
Jack gulped.
He held up a pair of handcuffs, dangling them on his finger as he gave Jack a pitiless grin.
Jack’s heart sank.
—
Dante wandered into the police station and paused a minute at the doors, examining the spacious area filled with people. Busy for a Friday morning. It was the first time he dared venture around other humans since…
He cringed.
When he’d woken up in the woods behind his house, he’d avoided the fire department as they had tried to stamp out the flames that consumed his home, lest he accidentally hurt them, just like he had his poor parents. Now, after a few days, he was anxious staring at the innocent people in the station. He only hoped he didn’t burst into flames again.
But I think I’ve got that sort of under control, he thought with a glimmer of hope. I practiced all Wednesday and Thursday in the creek. He shivered at the cold memory, but his worry kept eating at him. He felt his hands grow warm and glanced down at them, gulping when he saw them steam ever so slightly. Letting out a slow breath, Dante closed his eyes and forced down all his emotions, bottling them up into the deep pit of his stomach, just like he practiced.
When he opened his eyes, he felt cooler. The cargo pants he’d snagged from the neighbor’s clothesline began to fall, so he rolled them once and tugged at the loose collar of the camo-green band t-shirt that was much too large for him. Then he picked up his feet and made his way over to the front desk in the tiny, stolen flipflops, his dangling toes brushing the floor with each step.
A woman glanced up at him from the desk. “Can I help you?”
What do I even say? Dante didn’t even know what had happened, but he knew to start at the abduction.
Before he could answer, the doors to his right burst open.
Two cops had a young, handcuffed, black man in their grasp, who thrashed about, screaming in torment. There was something familiar about him.
“Please, it wasn’t me!” the man cried. His eyes darted from one cop to the next, pleading them for rescue. “It was Jekyll! It was Jekyll! He did it!”
Dante paused at Henry Jekyll’s name.
“He framed me! Please, you have to believe me!” The man’s eyes fell heavily on Dante and locked on. Suddenly, his face filled with horror, like he was seeing a ghost. “You’re alive! No, I saw you burn! Stop!” He kicked his legs up and reared back, making the cops stumble back a step. “He was there! That man in the green shirt—I saw him! Jekyll experimented on him, too!”
Dante’s stomach knotted as the officers stopped and looked at him.
“That true?” one asked.
Dante could feel the fear bubbling up again and kept his mouth shut, focusing on forcing down his emotions.
The cuffed man’s eyes filled with hope. “Please! Jekyll di
d something to me, too! He’s trying to frame me for the fire! I know what you did was an accident, but we have to go after him together!”
Dante trembled as he watched the man and felt his palms beginning to pulsate. He knows about the fire.
One of the officers gave Jack a shake and stared intently at Dante. “Do you know anything about what he’s saying, son?”
As the silence dragged on, the handcuffed man’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Please, don’t let him get away with this!”
Inner turmoil strangled the words in Dante’s throat. Part of him was eager for answers, willing to admit to everything just to find out what exactly happened. But fear crept in the corners of his mind as he considered what Jekyll had apparently reduced the man in front of him to; a crazy-sounding scapegoat, if what he said was true. I don’t want that.
“No.” Dante could feel all the emotions inside him settle as the word slipped out. “No, this guy’s crazy. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
The man’s whole physique fell. A tear trickled down his hurt features. The officers took advantage of the calm and pulled him away again, which made the prisoner thrash even wilder than before. “No—no! I didn’t start the fire! He did—he did!” His frantic voice faded as they disappeared down the hall leading to the back.
Dante let out another slow exhale.
“Dante Stein?”
He tensed but turned to the voice.
A female officer made her way over to him. “My name is Officer Howes. I’m glad to see you’re safe. You’ve been missing for some time now,” she noted. “Why don’t we go back to my desk and you can tell me what happened.”
He glanced at the doors the screaming man disappeared into and back to her, quickly pressing down his anxiety at the very thought of divulging into a world he wasn’t even familiar with. No, run away from this. Get as far from this as you can. He gave her a shrug. “Nothing happened.”
She tilted her head down and gave him a cautious look. “Nothing happened?”
He shook his head and leaned back on the counter, trying to assuage her doubt.
When she saw he wouldn’t budge, she straightened herself and set her hands on her hips. “I’m still going to need you to come with me.” With that, she stood by the doors on the right and waited.
He gulped down his worry and let her lead him to her desk, gritting his teeth in pain every time he came down on his sore leg. He plopped down in the cold metal seat as she settled herself in to hers, her eyes looming over him steadily.
“So, nothing happened?” she pressed, doubtful.
“That’s right.”
“Then why were you missing for almost a week if nothing happened?”
He tried to formulate a good lie, but the first thing that came out was: “I was camping.”
“Camping?” She seemed careful with her words. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”
His throat tightened. “I’ve been going through a lot.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“I didn’t want anyone to bother me, so I didn’t tell anyone. I just wanted to get away.”
She scrutinized him. “Mr. Stein, we found your car abandoned on the side of a back road with your phone still inside. The last phone number you called was to Suzette Valentine. Care to tell me what the call was about?”
His mind raced for an excuse. “I-I wanted to tell her that I was going camping, just to get away for a while. Thought about going over to her house, but when she didn’t answer her phone, I just decided to do it. It was too late at night and I didn’t want to wake her.”
“And you left your car on the side of the road?”
“Yeah.”
“And your phone?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, shoving his twiddling fingers in his pockets. “Didn’t want to be bothered, like I said.”
She stared, unconvinced.
“Look, I see now that it wasn’t cool for me to just leave it all there,” he tried. “And I’m sorry to have caused such a stir. It was nothing, really. I’m fine. I was just coming over to get my stuff back.”
She continued to stare until her eyes grew soft. “It’s probably best you were gone, then.” She paused. “Mr. Stein, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you missed quite a lot while you were gone. Just Monday morning, your parents’ house burned down. They were still inside.”
As the agony rose to strangle him, he quickly drew in a breath and rocked back, forcing it all down. “Yeah, I heard about that.” It came out forced and strained.
“Dante, we suspect that it’s connected with several crimes. And while we have an idea of what may be happening, it might be best to move you to a safer location until we have a concrete answer. Do you have any family away from here?”
He nodded. “An uncle up north.”
She nodded back. “Then we’ll see about setting up some arrangements.”
Dante stared in anticipation, waiting for her to cuff him and tell him the jig was up. But she patiently stared back, lucid concern plastered across her face. Finally, she tilted her head to the side. “How about you wait here for a minute?”
He nodded.
She got up and walked away.
As she disappeared from view, Dante finally felt a sense of calm and a draining of energy, but only in his body. His conscience ate away at him all the more.
Why had he not told them that he did it—that he killed his parents? Serving time would only be the right thing to do. He had to have been the one to start the fire that guy was yammering on about, too. But something about that guy in handcuffs made him bite his tongue. If the cops thought the crazy guy was the same person who’d set fire to Liza’s house, why would they suspect Dante if he was one of the people putting out the fire? Dante could easily get away with blaming the guy for his own house fire. But the dishonesty gnawed at Dante; he had walked into the station fully intent on telling them all that he had burned his own flesh and blood to ashes.
But he didn’t.
It made him feel sick.
He was a liar and a fraud. He felt his misery build up inside of him and couldn’t do anything about it. He had no energy left to feel any emotion. The thought of putting more family in danger should have repelled him, but he almost felt relieved that he was going away. With Uncle Virgil, he could find time alone to control everything—to lock it away inside. Not to mention that it would keep everyone he knew safe from him, especially the ones he cared about. The thought made his heart wrench.
The only person left that I care about is Suzette. But now he had to lie to her, too.
—
Suzette sulked downstairs. She knew she had to eat or she’d be sick, but she just wanted to either go upstairs, get in bed, and never get up until Dante was safe, or run around town, searching high and low for him until she collapsed of exhaustion. It’s been six days. The thought left a pit in her stomach and she paused at the kitchen doorway, thoughts of Frank, Liza, and now Dante’s poor parents running rampant in her mind. Knowing Dante’s parents were gone only made her more frantic to know the state of her boyfriend. What could’ve happened to him? She shook her head and focused on her nauseated stomach.
“There you are.” Suzette looked up at her mom, who busied herself with a plate of lunch. “I was hoping you’d come down. I made some extra in case you were hungry.” Her mom took the plate full of food and set it on the table.
Suzette forced her feet to move to no more than a shuffle. Slowly, she trudged over to the table, sat across from her dad, and started to prod the meal with her fork. The longer she sat there, forcing the tasteless food into her mouth, the more her father’s out of character demeanor bothered her. His stoic eyes were twitchy and concerned as he stared intently at his phone, scrolling and scrolling with his thumb. His food sat untouched in front of him.
Her mom slid into the seat next to her and gave her arm a loving rub. “Honey, want to sit down and watch a movie after this? We can rent whatever you want.”
> Suzette felt desperate at the idea of getting lost in someone else’s world to escape her own, but it only lasted for a fleeting moment. Besides, she couldn’t trust herself to pick something bright and happy to rent. She needed to get out of the dark and into the sun. She needed to stretch and leave the cloud of gloom she felt lingering over her house. “No, I think I want to go for a walk after this.”
Her mother smiled, obviously excited for this new step. “Alright. That sounds good, too.”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t, Suz.” Her father’s phone dropped slightly as he glanced up at her.
Shocked, they both stared at him.
“Why not?” her mother asked.
He set the phone on the table and folded his fingers before daring to look up at Suzette. “Honey, Frank and his wife are gone, his parents are gone, and now Dante…” He paused, taking a deep, calming breath as Suzette tensed. “Did you hear about the murder that happened this Monday?”
Suzette hadn’t heard anything from the outside world in several days. Nothing about a murder stirred in her memory. She shook her head.
Her dad picked the phone back up and examined the screen, shaking his head for a moment. “Some of my old buddies at the station sent this picture to me from the journalist at the scene. Told him not to post any specifics in the article just yet. Said it was a tough one.” He slid the phone across to Suzette.
She gingerly picked it up and felt what little blood was in her face rush away. It was a man, lying dead in his car. His head hung against the headrest, his eyes wide and void of light. His jaw almost seemed to be unhinged and fell slack. His shirt was ripped open. It seemed as if someone had carved, or maybe burned, the letter “A” onto his chest.
Suzette felt sick looking at it. Her fingers weakened and fell open, letting the phone gently fall back against the table.
“Apparently, this guy was committing adultery,” her dad explained, a disgust lingering in the back of his words. “He didn’t even try to hide it. His mistress called the police, saying it was his jealous wife that killed him.” He kept quiet a moment, drawing Suzette’s attention back to him. “Something is going on. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen in a small place like this. The town is going to hell and it looks like it’s trying to take as many people with it as it can, including the Steins.”
Blind World (The Onyx Fox Saga Book 1) Page 20