The Optogram

by Noelle Jeffreys

  Oh, shit.

  Dothan pulled back onto the highway while several officers stood together at the motel entrance watching him pass.

  He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles as panic clamped his chest. After turning into a new housing development, Dothan parked the car along the edge of the asphalt.

  The police in Seattle had a micro-blogger account for instant updates on their activities, and he took a chance Monroe would have one. He browsed to the site and searched until he located the Monroe police department. His heart raced. They had just posted an update.

  Monroe PD

  ID: ~MonWAPolice

  Officers on scene of a fatal shooting @ U.S 2. Details will come out as known.

  A fatal shooting? If Gilmore was dead, Dothan had delivered him to his killer.

  It had to be someone else. The lawyer was just hiding, too scared to text. Murders and shootings happened all the time at dirtbag motels. There was no reason to panic.

  “Oh my god,” he whispered. “I gave him my phone number. If he’s dead, the god damn police will have it. What if they call? What the fuck will I tell January?”

  He drove out of the housing development and onto the highway. At a stoplight, he threw the car into park and groaned as he pounded his forehead against the steering wheel. A car pulled up next to him, and a couple stared at him. Dothan turned toward them, wild-eyed. He bared his teeth and screamed.

  The car sped off, and he covered his head with his arms. Vehicles behind him honked as others tried to pull around, but he was insensible to the noise.

  A thud on his window startled him. Standing outside the driver’s window was an angry man with a bandana tied around his forehead. “What are you doing, man?” he shouted through the glass.

  Dothan pressed the accelerator to the floor and burst into the center of the road, just missing a battered truck.

  He raced back to his apartment, caring little he was already late in returning the rental car. After pulling into a parking space, he took a few moments to calm his breathing before climbing the flight of stairs.

  He opened the door and stepped inside. “January?”

  “Should I tell the maintenance guy to go then?” asked a soft voice from the bedroom.

  With a laugh, she entered and embraced him. “Hey, I missed you.”

  He wrapped her in his arms, pressing his body against hers. “You can’t imagine how much I missed you.”

  January pulled back and ran her finger across the painful welt on his forehead. “Wow. What’s happened?”

  Enough of the lies. Tell her before it’s too late.

  No, not yet. He was not even sure the man was dead. Besides, according to Barclay’s notes, she had lied to him about the lawyer’s involvement with Sibella. Even Gilmore insinuated there was more to this than Dothan understood.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I’m just a dork. I hit my head on a window ledge. Long story.”

  “Oh,” she said, kissing his cheek. “You might have a concussion. Why didn’t you have it checked before you left the college?”

  “You’re all I need right now.”

  What am I doing? The police might call at any time. I’ve got to tell her.

  “There’s something you should know,” he said, pushing aside a long curl from her cheek, “and I’m pretty sure you’ll leave me when I tell you.”

  January flinched. “Not another Bekkii?”

  He placed his hands on her arms. “No. This has nothing to do with a woman.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He stared at her in silence.

  January broke free from his grasp. “Tell me.”

  “I…it’s just…after you left, I got this message.” Dothan grabbed his phone and showed her the anonymous text.

  She glanced at it. “Whose address is this?”

  “At the time I didn’t know, but when I replied, it bounced. I figured it was some bizarre spam, so I left to find Agnes, like I said. What I didn’t tell you was this weird gray van was casing her place. I hid inside the car and waited until they left. It made me wonder if that text had something to do with Agnes vanishing, so I headed over there. The house was a total dump, but I hung around for a few minutes. After a while, I started the car and…” Dothan hesitated.

  “And what?”

  “Out comes Lucas Gilmore.”

  January’s face grew pale. “You found Gilmore and didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t know if it was him at first, so I confronted him. He told me if I took him to Monroe, he’d tell me who killed Sibella, just as long as I agreed not to tell you anything until he and I talked.”

  “How did he even know you had any connection to me?”

  “I…I told him.”

  “Why?” screamed January.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think that would be a problem.”

  “Did he tell you about Sibella? Where is he now?”

  Dothan searched the newsfeeds. “He made me drop him off on a dirt road and said he’d text me in an hour from this creepy motel. When I got nothing back from him, I drove over there.”

  A local reporter had posted a video entitled Shooting Death in Monroe. Dothan turned the phone toward January.

  “Breaking news,” said a female voice. “A man is dead at a Monroe motel. Police say the shooting happened around six-eighteen p.m. at the Welcome 2 You Motel off Highway 2. Authorities said the man was inside a room at the motel when someone forced their way in and opened fire. When police arrived, they found the man had succumbed to his injuries. Several witnesses heard the shooting, but no one saw the crime happen, though one described a dark van pulling out from the motel just after the gunshots. Investigators are still working to learn more about the shooting, and we’ll update you as we receive information.”

  “Oh my god, no,” she whispered.

  His hands shook. “Dark…not gray,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “The reporter. She said someone saw a dark van leaving the motel. What if it was the same as the one at Agnes’s house?”

  “Do you think they followed you and Lucas?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s not the worst of it. If the police, or the person who killed him, have his phone, they’ll see my number.”

  “You gave Lucas your number?” January’s face distorted with fury. “Why didn’t you call me the second you saw him? What is wrong with you?”

  “I was going to tell you.” He threw his hands in the air. “If I could go back, I wouldn’t have let him get away with keeping it from you.”

  “I keep trusting you, and you go on lying to me.”

  “I didn’t lie. When I first saw him, I was afraid you’d be disappointed if it turned out not to be him. By the time all the shit went down, it was too late.”

  “What shit? You mean his rather inconvenient murder?”

  “If he’s the one who’s dead. All we know is that someone died at that motel.”

  She took her phone and scrolled through social media sites. Within moments, she held the screen toward him.

  The news was trending that sources had identified the murder victim in Monroe as Lucas Gilmore, a successful corporate lawyer.

  “So, now you can be sure,” she said.

  A bead of sweat ran along his temple, and he wiped it away with his damp palm. “What was I supposed to do? He said he wouldn’t tell me anything if I talked to you. Let’s talk about lying here, huh? He seemed to know an awful lot about you, but you keep saying you only saw him a couple of times.”

  As she stood watching him, a shadow moved behind her. It was watching him.

  Hold it together. It’s not real. It’s just my fucked-up mind.

  “And…” he said, keeping his eyes on the strange dark aura as it danced around January, “and there’s
something else weird. When he left the car, he insinuated I was the one being fucked over by you. What did he mean by that?”

  You’re babbling.

  The dark figure twisted around as it opened a pair of red-rimmed eyes.

  Fuck, no. Not now. Haven’t you done enough? Go away. Leave me alone.

  January laughed. “I don’t have the slightest idea what that creep meant.”

  He was shaking, and his heart was pounding in painful thumps. January circled him, and the shadow followed, lifting a rail-thin, blackened finger toward him.

  His breathing quickened. The room was spinning and his fingers grew numb.

  January’s voice was soft and low, torturing him as she circled him. “I have to wonder why you’re questioning me. I’m not the one sneaking around in rental cars and hiding it from you.”

  If only he had a pill. There was still a half-bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. “I thought I was doing the right thing.” Dothan searched for the liquor. “He said he knew who killed Sibella. You kept saying that’s what you wanted. Where’s the god-damned whiskey?”

  The shadow moved away from January, inching closer to him, whispering to him as it slid along his shoulder.

  Dothan closed his eyes.

  It’s not real. I’m not seeing this. Get out of here.

  January grabbed his shoulder. He flinched and opened his eyes. The specter had vanished. Dothan turned to face her, groaning as he rubbed his face and leaned against the sink.

  She drew closer to him, bringing her mouth so close to his ear, he was aware of each rhythmic puff of her breath.

  “You already knew,” she said, “what I wanted was to look him in the eye and explain why he disappeared. If you’re saying he knew the answer to who left Sibella naked and battered on a riverbank, then I was right. He was involved in her murder, and now my last hope is gone.”

  “What do you want me to say? He told me he would give me all the answers about her death as long as I kept it from you.” Dothan wiped his damp palms on the legs of his jeans.

  “You didn’t have to listen to him. You were the one with all the power.”

  “Bullshit. I had no power at all, and I was trying to do what I thought was right. You just never get that, do you? If I don’t do what you want, you threaten to leave or you tease me until you get your way. Gilmore wasn’t the only one messing me around. You’ve done a fucking good job of it yourself.”

  “Me?” she laughed and backed away from him. “You lie and lie and then it’s my fault? What are you going to tell the police when they call you? That you were doing the right thing? If whoever killed Gilmore wants to slaughter us next, do you think they care if you’re a damn boy scout?”

  She lifted her hand as if to strike him, but Dothan grabbed her wrist.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve got secrets, and whatever they are, they’ve made you a fucked-up mess. But maybe that’s why I can’t stay away from you. You and I deserve each other.”

  He released her arm and embraced her.

  “You’re right,” he whispered, “and I can’t live without you.”

  They stood in silence. There was a soft movement against his back as her hands reached beneath his shirt.

  Dothan kissed her hair and face. “Can’t you see how much I love you?” he asked.

  She nodded. “And I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you.”

  They fell to their knees together, and she buried her head in his shoulder.

  “With Lucas dead,” she said, “it’s time you knew the truth.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dothan pulled January to the floor, encircling her in a warm embrace.

  “The truth about what?” he whispered.

  January took a sharp breath. “Eight years ago, Althea Harrington recruited me for Acquisitions. I wasn’t qualified to be the senior manager of sales. I knew that. It was obvious they hired me for my appearance, not my talents, but, at twenty-one, that was fine with me. I was so naïve, I never even questioned the company moving me to Seattle and setting me up in a rent-free apartment downtown.”

  She grew quiet for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts.

  “Go on,” said Dothan.

  “I was surprised to learn my job was to con software creators into giving up their rights for less than their products were worth. It stopped being a concern, though, when I saw my first bonus check.”

  Dothan flinched. It was just as Agnes had said.

  “After a few years, I called Sibella about an opening on the team. Her banking career was becoming stagnant in Missouri, and I had this enormous place all to myself. It made sense for her to join me. It was the perfect job for someone so beautiful and talented. Her bonuses were higher than anyone, and our lives became an unending spree of shopping, travel and spending more money than we had ever seen in Oliver.”

  January rose to her feet and paced the floor as Dothan lay watching her. “What you heard was true. Sib and the others used their bodies to clinch deals. And before you ask, no, I’ve never done that, but it didn’t bother me that they did. It was just another tool of the job. One night Sibella came home with bruises and a black eye. She said it was no big deal. A few clients liked it a little rough. When I tried to examine a weird purple blotch on her arm, though, she pulled away.”

  As if reliving the moment, January held her wrist. “I grabbed her and pushed back her sleeve. Needle marks covered her arm. She screamed and fought, but then admitted she’d developed an expensive habit of cocaine and heroin provided by Joseph Harrington at the playpen.”

  Dothan sat straight. “The what?”

  “Playpen. It’s the code name for the company penthouse used to entertain clients. The acquisition department hosts client parties there, but I’ve never been a part of them.”

  “You knew this was happening to your friend, and you did nothing about it?”

  “Please. Let me finish. That night while she was after her next fix, some cowboy cornered her, but when she tried to get away, he raped and beat her. The worst of it was, no one stopped him.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “In fact, they gathered around and watched the whole thing.”

  “Why the fuck did you stay with Conscentiam after that?”

  January shook her head. “The next morning I walked into Joseph’s office and demanded transfers for us both to the New York office. He just laughed at me. I told him Sibella and I would just quit on the spot. He said if we tried, he would broadcast Sibella’s drug use, along with photographs and videos he had of her activities in the playpen, and implicate me. I got angry and threatened to expose I everything knew about Acquisitions, even if it meant going back to Missouri to bus tables in the diner. He slammed his fist on the table and said I’d better think twice before making that kind of decision. As long as I kept my mouth shut, he would take care of Sibella and forget all about this misunderstanding between us. Otherwise, the company had ways to deal with this sort of unfortunate situation.”

  “Is that when she disappeared?”

  “No. I had no choice but to follow Joseph’s demands, and he abided by the agreement. Sibella stopped working at the playpen and he sent her to a luxury rehab. When she got back, I’d never seen her happier. A week after Gilmore vanished, though, I came home to find her drunk and staring at the wall. Someone had written a message across it in lipstick that said, ‘Stop now or say goodbye.’”

  Dothan clenched his jaw. “The same one left at your place. No wonder you freaked.”

  January nodded. “Sib said it was there when she returned. Neither of us knew what the message meant. She started crying, saying it was because she was having an affair with Joseph. She babbled a bunch of nonsense, saying they were in love, and he intended to tell his horrible wife of their plans. I told her he would never leave Althea and we would talk about it in the morning. I helped her to be
d and washed the wall. We never mentioned that evening again. When she went missing a few days later, though, I panicked and went to Joseph, telling him I knew about their relationship. He repeated the words on the wall, and said to always remember them.”

  Dothan leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

  “A week later,” she continued, “the police called me in to identify Sibella’s body and give a statement. I said nothing to them concerning Joseph, the playpen, or Conscentiam. I’ve been in a surreal vacuum ever since.”

  “You didn’t tell them anything about Joseph or Lucas or their relationships with Sibella?”

  January shook her head. “Nothing at all.”

  “But…” Dothan glared at her.

  Why is she still lying? Maybe I should confront her about that interview with Barclay. No, that would be a bad move. This isn’t the time to admit I’ve been talking to him.

  “Are you saying that’s why you wanted me to find Gilmore?” he asked.

  “He was all I had left. I was sure he held the key to Sibella’s death.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me the truth up front?”

  “I couldn’t. The moment I saw Sibella in that morgue drawer, I knew I had to keep this to myself. Now, I’m afraid I…might be in danger.”

  “What?”

  “When I went to the meeting today, Harrington told me I was being reassigned to the playpen. If I didn’t agree, he insinuated I might have the same fate as her. I thought he was doing this to punish me, but now I believe they had already found and eliminated Lucas. I’m the last one alive who was part of Sibella’s life. I have to wonder if I’m the next in line.”

  “No,” he said, taking her hand. “We’ll take whatever information you have and go after Harrington. The police need to know if he or Conscentiam had any involvement with Gilmore’s death.”

  “You don’t understand. I have no hard evidence. If I could have spoken to Lucas before they got him, but—”

  “I can tell you one thing for damn sure. You won’t prostitute yourself for Harrington.”