The Fog of Dreams

by Justin Bell

CHAPTER NINE

  This was a new feeling. Richard Grace was a man of discipline and routine. Every morning he woke at the same time, went to the same gym, listened to the same playlist, took a shower at the same time, and started his work day. It was clockwork. He wasn't entirely sure why, on that nice late summer day, he decided to go for a jog, but he had. He'd woken to the yellow rays of early morning sunshine filtering through the windows of his hotel room, the sky was crisp and cloudless, the temperature was seasonable. For no reason he could think of, he wanted to be outside.

  Slipping out of his sleeping clothes, he stepped into a pair of workout shorts and slipped on a plain navy blue tank top over his bare chest. His muscles were sculpted, but not overly so. He was lean, and fit, but far from a weightlifter. Slipping sneakers on his feet, he grabbed his phone and slid earbuds into his ears. Closing his eyes, he could almost feel the wind in his face and the cool air swirling around him as he ran. His heart slid up a few beats, and his fists clenched as he thought of the upcoming morning run. Outside activity. No stale air in the gym, no common showers, and no cleaning off sweaty equipment.

  Suddenly he knew this was going to be a very good day.

  The hotel was in downtown Hammond, a block away from the three story office, and minutes later he found himself amongst a light throng of college students, the local track team out for their own early morning exercise. Jogging down past his office, he reached Main Street and turned left, the music throbbing in his ears, and his muscles working. Early morning air was crisp and thin and burned his lungs just a little as he pushed himself a little extra hard. Sweat beaded along his shoulders and chest, shining across his forehead as he reached one mile, then two, then four, then five. It was an amazing feeling, a world different than the treadmill in the gym, and he realized he didn't do it nearly enough. There was something about being one with nature, with running only with the surrounding air and human bodies that simply fueled him. Gave him energy as he ran. He hit six miles and realized that he wasn't especially short of breath and was feeling almost as good as he had when he started. Veering left, he transferred over to a side street as he found himself heading towards one of the neighboring towns. He deftly navigated some of the side streets and soon was coming back into downtown Hammond, bursting out onto Main Street and turning left, coming back towards the street with his office and the hotel.

  A small, dark hatchback passed him on the street as he turned down towards his office, staying on the sidewalk, and dodging more students as their numbers grew closer to class starting this morning. The hatchback passed him and just a short distance up ahead, it pulled over into an empty parking spot along the sidewalk, its brake lights flashing brightly.

  As Grace approached it, breathing heavily, the driver's side door swung open and a figure emerged. Grace closed his eyes and eased up his pace, not so sure today was going to be all that great after all. What a change a few minutes made.

  Louisa Gutierrez was on the sidewalk as Grace approached, wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans, her Boston Red Sox baseball cap turned backwards and pulled tight over her dark hair, which splayed out underneath and in the back.

  "We need to talk," she said softly as Grace approached. He was walking now, sweat shining his skin, his breath coming in short, swift intakes.

  "Here? Really?"

  He continued past her towards the office and she kept pace, pulling along just behind him.

  "I didn't sign up for this, Grace. I didn't sign up for gunfight at the OK corral."

  He continued walking, not looking at her. "Shut up and just follow me."

  Pulling a thin square of plastic from the front hip pocket of his workout shorts, he scanned the card at a small reader on the front door of the three story building that they approached. There was an audible click and the door slid sideways, giving them both enough space to squeeze through into the marble lobby.

  They strode quickly, but silently across the smooth floor, up the small staircase, and into the elevator, no hint of conversation between the two of them. Louisa gave him some space in the elevator as he pushed the third floor button and moments later they went out the way they had come in.

  Not long after, Grace was easing closed the door to his office on the third floor, a thick wooden slab, locking tight against a metal frame, as Louisa walked over to the small conference table and pulled out a chair.

  "I'm not sure what kind of relationship you think this is," Grace spat as he turned towards her, "but you don't just approach me on the street. You don't just flag me down and have a casual conversation. That is not how this works." His mouth was thin, and his eyes were narrowed, both reduced to dark slits against his sweat-shined face.

  Louisa stood up, her own eyes squinting shut. "I beg your pardon, Agent Grace, I'm not sure who you think you're talking to here, but I'm not one of your fucking toadies you can just bark around!" She took a step towards him, her fist clenching. Her words hung in the quiet air and Grace surprised her by smiling.

  "Well, you have a little fire to you, don't you, Chief Gutierrez? I like that."

  He walked past her across the floor, and approached his desk. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. But this whole thing only works if every part works together."

  "What if I don't give a shit if this whole thing works or not? What if I've decided the safety of these people is more important than my stupid career?" Louisa crossed the floor behind where Grace had just walked. Both fists were clenched now and she glared pinprick daggers at the back of his head.

  Easing open the bottom drawer of his desk, Grace retrieved a plastic water bottle and pulled it out. Twisting the cap, he remained silent as he tipped it up and took two long swallows. His fingers crunched the bottle slightly as he set it back down on his desk, half empty, then pulled a closed fist across his wet lips.

  "Look. I understand, Louisa, okay?" he said, taking a step away from his desk. "I know how conflicted you are. I've been there. The good news is, we won't be at this much longer. We've gone nearly as far as we can go here, and your job is almost done."

  "No, I'm pretty sure my job is done."

  Grace's glance faltered, just a bit. "Louisa. This whole thing is a marathon, not a sprint. At some point you're close enough to the end where it becomes easier to just finish rather than try to go back. That's where we are right now."

  "Maybe that's where you are. That's not where I am. This is my job we're talking about. I can't take any more risks."

  Now Grace smiled again. "My dear, it's too late for that. You've already taken those risks. You've already flushed whatever future you ever had down the toilet. You turn back now, you will never work in law enforcement again, I can guarantee you that."

  "You son of a bitch," she replied.

  Grace turned back towards his desk and walked to the window behind it. "Like it or not, you didn't just risk your own life either. I know people, Chief. Not just government people, but people in local health care." He stood there silently. Gutierrez's eyes drew open. The message was clear.

  "If you fuck this up, it's not just your life you'll be ruining. There will be other?repercussions."

  Louisa stood there, her mind racing. She thought immediately of Julietta, coming home excited from her shift at the hospital. White labcoat swirling around her legs, smile plastered to her face, blonde hair pulled tightly into a narrow, straight ponytail. She was living her dream. Louisa had felt bitter about that. Jealous and angry. But not so jealous that she was willing to wreck Jules' life as well as her own.

  The office remained silent. Grace turned his neck and glanced back at her. "Can I take that silence as affirmation? I take it we understand each other?"

  Chief Gutierrez didn't reply. She scowled at Grace, a deep and scornful glare. If she could have shot deadly venom from her eyes like a toad, she would have.

  "Good," replied Grace. "I'm glad we're on the same page. Please let yourself out."


  Louisa stood stock still, continuing to glare at the man's back, her fists clenched. Gradually, her fingers relaxed and pulled apart. Her fists opened up into hands, splayed across the thighs of her pants, hanging there like useless weapons. She remained speechless, but simply turned around, pushed open the office door, and left.

  Behind her, Richard Grace smiled, a broad grin separating his sweat glistened face, as he looked out the window at the town below and filed away another minor victory.