The Optogram

by Noelle Jeffreys

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid there’s no other option.”

  Dothan grinned and grabbed her shoulders. “Yes, there is. We have something more valuable than any service you could provide, and we can use it to pay for your freedom from that monster and Conscentiam.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What if I told you my software could change forensic science as we know it? January, I’ve captured the last image seen by a person at the moment of their death.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “I’m telling you I’ve done it. I have some stuff on my phone, but I want you to see the entire process.” Dothan ran to the refrigerator and pried open the back, pulling away the tape from the dusty receptacle. He held up the thumb drive. “This algorithm could be as important as DNA evidence in murder investigations. Joseph Harrington and every other tech monopoly will wet themselves to get their hands on this.”

  He dropped into the chair and opened his laptop. As the software loaded, he sighed. “There is something else I need to tell you. This code is the real reason I was trying to find Sibella’s killer.”

  “So, you weren’t doing a research paper for college?”

  He shook his head.

  “You used me for information.”

  “No. I needed to show the serious use of my code, so it didn’t end up as a cheesy subscription site selling Gramma or Uncle Jack’s last look at the grandkids. It gave me the perfect platform. Sibella’s case had gone cold, and if I could help find the killer from her retinal scan, I could name my price.”

  January stared at him in angry silence.

  Dothan took her hands. “I didn’t mislead you. I swear I didn’t. I wanted to find whoever killed Sibella, every bit as much as you.” He initiated the algorithm. “Let me show you her scan. Maybe you can identify the image in her eye.”

  She nodded and stood behind him.

  “When I run the routine,” he said, “the laptop won’t give us the highest resolution, but the result should be a decent image. After it processes, you’ll see an orange globe. Look to the back of it and tell me what you see.”

  The computer whirred, and the bright orb emerged from the darkness. It blurred for a moment, but sharpened and enlarged, and the ghost-like image of a strange, ornate table appeared across the filmy retina.

  “My god,” she said. “What is that? Some sort of table?”

  “I think so. Have you ever seen it?”

  She shook her head. “No, never.” January turned to face him. “You said Althea might have been grooming Sib to service billionaire clients. If this is the last thing she viewed at her death, she might have been with one of them.”

  Dothan nodded. “It’s possible.”

  January stared at the optogram. “How can this be real?”

  He shrugged. “I could tell you how it works, but not why. Agnes said people have always believed the retina was a camera that kept the last image seen by the dead. A hundred years ago they called it an optogram and even tried to use it on Jack the Ripper’s victims, hoping to see his face.”

  “Agnes? You told Agnes everything?”

  He nodded. “I told you we had a partnership. If she helped me with documentation, we would share in the profits from the code. But, she went psycho as soon as she found out Sibella worked at Conscentiam, and then she went after you. That was it for me.”

  “No wonder she broke into your place. That makes her an actual threat.”

  “No, not to us, but I’m certain she’s pissed off someone at Conscentiam and they’re after her.”

  January continued to stare at the image. “Tell me something, can you achieve this with any post-mortem retinal image?”

  “I’ve not done a proper test run, like using thousands of images, but, it’s been successful with my test samples. Given the right equipment, I’m sure I could create the same results with every post-mortem scan, as long as a person died with their eyes open.”

  “Amazing.”

  Dothan touched the soft skin of her cheek. “This code means nothing to me unless you’re a part of it. No one has ever mattered to me the way you do.”

  His head swirled as he gazed at her. Overwhelmed with emotion, he dropped to one knee beside her, taking both of her hands into his. “This is going to sound totally nuts, but I want you to marry me. Let’s just run from this stupid city and the crazies at Conscentiam. We can go wherever you want. We’ll build a new life and be together, for always.”

  “I…,” said January, pulling her hands away from him. “I don’t know. We’ve known each other less than two weeks.”

  “I loved you the moment you first walked into that coffee shop. Say yes. We’ll get out of here for good, and for the rest of our lives I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

  “I need time.”

  Dothan grinned. “How about five minutes?” He grabbed his phone. “Look, I have Sibella’s scan image and three others saved in a locked file on my phone. I say we take these to Harrington tomorrow and tell him the company can have the software for a fraction of its value if he’ll leave you alone.”

  She shook her head. “Conscentiam will offer you next to nothing for it.”

  “If it means we never have to hear the word Conscentiam again, they can have the fucking algorithm for free. Code is my thing. I’m a baby billionaire waiting to happen, and I want you to share my success.” Dothan kissed her. “So, Miss Kinsie, you’ve had your five minutes. Will you be my wife?”

  She hesitated for a moment and said, “God, yes. I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted more in my life than to marry you.”

  Lost in a moment of surreal, inexpressible joy, Dothan held January in his arms without a word.

  She moved back from his embrace. “I was under the impression you’d be glad I accepted your proposal.”

  Dothan laughed and kissed her. “I’m so stoked, I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid to move, just in case there’s a bolt of lightning and you disappear.”

  “I’m going nowhere unless it’s with you.”

  “Promise me you mean that.”

  “With all my heart.”

  He took her hands and spun around the room, until they fell, giggling and dizzy, onto the couch.

  “What do you say to celebrating at that sick Japanese place near Broadway?” asked Dothan. “It’s open late on weekends, and I can’t think of a better way to max out the credit card.”

  “That sounds great, and I’m starving, but tonight is my treat. It’s not every day a girl gets engaged. You go make the reservations, and I’ll see what I have to wear.”

  “Could you call the restaurant?” he asked. “It’s been a really weird day, and I’d like to jump in the shower before we go out.”

  “Sure, and I’ll even get us a ride-share.”

  He gave her a sheepish grin. “Well, we could use the rental car. It’s still in the parking lot.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “I’d almost forgotten about that. I don’t even want to think what the late charges are, but let me have the contract. I’ll take care of it.”

  Dothan handed her the paperwork with a gentle kiss. “Have I told you how amazing you are?”

  Refreshed after his shower, he pulled on his favorite jeans and styled his hair. He touched the painful welt on his forehead and checked his reflection in the mirror. The swelling had receded, but a large red line remained.

  This reaction to Gilmore’s death surprised him. While the shock of it was understandable, he had not experienced such overwhelming rage since the day he received the court order telling him to stay away from Dr. Terry.

  His withdrawal from prescription drugs combined with stress of the last few weeks had been traumatic. It was inevitable he would face violent meltdowns. He believed January’s commitment could heal him, th
ough, ending the dark memories, delusions, and overwhelming anger. As she had pushed aside the shadowy specter with just a touch of her hand, she held the power to exorcise all his demons.

  He slipped on his black-rimmed glasses and smoothed the sides of his hair. Even with the stinging lump between his eyes, January was lucky to have corralled him when she did.

  After they solved Sibella’s murder by finding that strange table, the monetary windfall and global acclaim stood to bring to fruition his dreams. It would not take him long to create an empire surpassing the tech supremacy of giants like Conscentiam.

  He and January could be the planet’s most recognizable power couple, living a glittering lifestyle and attending a constant stream of award dinners, premieres and conferences. While the crowds and incessant flashes of cameras might prove exasperating, he understood this was the price of fame. Skyrocketing wealth and fame, though, could never disrupt his love for her. Even after the media titled him the world’s sexiest multi-billionaire, despite the growing swarm of women throwing themselves at his feet, he had to at least try to stay faithful. He owed her that much.

  January disrupted his fantasy as she entered the bedroom wearing a pair of black trousers and one of his form-fitting white shirts. She had unbuttoned it to an almost obscene level, but on her it screamed a provocative innocence.

  “Damn,” said Dothan, “you look amazing.”

  January opened her mirrored compact and fluffed her shimmering frame of thick, dark curls. “Thanks,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing your shirt. Everything I brought with me seems just this side of trailer trash.” She held out a double strand of pearls and Dothan laughed as he placed the necklace around her long, slender neck.

  “Do I mind?” he whispered in her ear. “You’re so lit, we might not even get to the restaurant.”

  She turned and smiled. “Save me for dessert. Oh, your phone pinged while you were in the shower.”

  Shit. I forgot to turn that fucking thing off.

  Dothan cleared his throat. “It did? Who was it?”

  January shook her head. “After the Bekkii fiasco, I’m never looking at your phone again. The car should be here any minute and the restaurant said they needed no reservations.”

  “Cool. Let’s fly.”

  He grabbed his phone from the sofa and caught a quick glance of the notifications. Barclay had left a text saying he had compiled a list of antique dealers to go over with Dothan when he saw him on Tuesday.

  Thank god January didn’t see that.

  He poised his finger over the power button just as an anonymous notification appeared. The animation of a burning dumpster from the unknown user left him no doubt who sent it. This was VprKlU’s signature, reminding him the deadline for the promised favor was close.

  The little shit isn’t blowing my good vibe tonight. He needs to chill. I still have time.

  Dothan replied with a GIF of an emoticon urinating on a fire.

  January touched his arm. “Ready to go?” she asked.

  “Oh wait,” he said, turning and walking into the bedroom, “I’ve got something for you.”

  Dothan dug through the closet, uncovering a scuffed and bent metal box. He pried it open and shuffled through a few old coins, documents, and trinkets.

  “There it is,” he whispered.

  With one arm behind him, he returned and raised January’s left hand. “I know it’s not much,” he said, slipping a delicate silver band onto her finger, “but you can’t be engaged without a ring.”

  “Oh, Dothan.” She lifted her hand to admire the sparkling facets of the large milk-white stone. “It’s wonderful.”

  “It was Gina…my mother’s ring. She told me she got it the day she ran away from home. I don’t remember ever seeing it off of her finger while she was alive. It’s just a white sapphire, but I promise we’ll get you an enormous diamond when we sell my software.”

  “It’s perfect.” January leaned her head on his chest. “Nothing in my life has meant more to me than this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The white-coated server placed menus in front of them, but Dothan had no interest in food. He could only focus on the ravishing creature across the table.

  She’ll always be with me. I won’t be afraid of anything. Not anymore.

  January snapped her fingers. “Hey,” she said. “Come back.”

  Dothan rested his chin on his hand and grinned. “Did you say something?”

  She pointed to the waiter scowling beside him. “I said as long as we were in a restaurant, it might be a good idea to order something.”

  As they waited for their food to arrive, Dothan took January’s left hand and gazed at the ring. The last time he held it was the night the social worker handed it to him in the hospital. Everything was different now. The horrible memories locked into this last memento of his mother would disappear.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” said January.

  “I’m thinking,” he said, “that one day we’ll have the most beautiful fucking kids on this planet.”

  She laughed and his heart soared with every melodic rise and fall.

  “I think we might want to get through our dumplings first before we name our children.”

  ***

  At the end of their meal, the server cleared the dishes, and January prepared to pay the check. As they chuckled over Dothan’s ineptitude with chopsticks, her phone pinged a notification, and, still laughing, she retrieved it from her bag.

  “Oh,” she said, as the smile disappeared from her face.

  “What is it?” said Dothan.

  “It’s from Joseph,” she said. “He expects me at the playpen Wednesday night.”

  “No.” He slapped the edge of the table. “You’re not going anywhere near that place.”

  “Unless we come up with another way, I have no choice. I don’t think either of us wants the consequences.”

  He stroked the top of her hand. “We already have a plan. We go to Conscentiam tomorrow, and Harrington will offer us a fraction of what my code is worth. I’ll take the deal with the agreement you won’t go anywhere near those bastards again.”

  “What if,” she said, toying with a small china cup, “we could stop them in their tracks and keep the software for ourselves?”

  Dothan’s eyes brightened. “How?”

  “The one thing Joseph counts on is the silence of his team.” She curled her lips into a smile. “It seems to me, if you got into the playpen and film all the bigshots with their drugs and disgusting perversions, we could use that, instead of your software, as leverage to get me out of Conscentiam.” January gripped his hands. “If we sold that code to the right buyer, it could go for a thousand times anything Joseph could offer.”

  “What kind of security guys protect these things? I don’t want to get shot at the door.”

  “Do you think if there was any risk you’d be hurt, I

  would’ve suggested it?”

  Dothan smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “Okay, yeah, besides what’s a few bullet holes when I have you?” He checked his watch. “Wow, it’s late. Ready to bounce?”

  “So ready.” She replaced her credit card in her glittering billfold. “When we get back, don’t forget to hide that thumb drive again. We can’t risk losing it.”

  “Consider it done as soon as we get home.” Dothan slipped his arm around her waist. “Yo, chick, since you paid the bill, does this mean I’m your toy boy for the night?”

  She cupped his face in her palm and kissed him. “As if there was ever a time you weren’t.” She wiped the scarlet imprint left on the edge of his lips with her thumb, and Dothan pushed open the heavy wood-paneled door. Making an exaggerated bow, he waited for January to cross the threshold and swept her in his arms, waltzing in disjointed circles around the empty parking lot.


  “Shit.” He released her and grabbed his phone. “I forgot to call the ride-share.”

  As he brought up the app, he ignored a series of footsteps behind him, assuming them to belong to a late-night runner.

  A loud rustle caused him to turn his head, and January screamed, “Dothan!”

  The light of a dim streetlamp reflected off a large, raised knife as a dark figure raced toward him. Dothan jumped back, avoiding the thrust of the blade. He grabbed the arm wielding the weapon and threw the attacker off balance, but, after regaining their footing, the figure aimed and plunged the knife at Dothan’s chest.

  He screamed to January to call for help, but she stood frozen in terror. Dothan kicked out, his foot connecting with the attacker’s gut. The figure leaned forward, trying to catch a breath while still slashing the air. With a sudden burst of strength, Dothan gripped the waving arm and wrestled for control of the weapon as both tried to avoid the razor-sharp tip. He pushed the figure into the dull glow of a streetlight, revealing a dark hoodie with drawstrings tightened below a pair of deep-set menacing eyes.

  The attacker kicked him in the groin, and, stunned by pain, Dothan stumbled backward, releasing their arm. Freed from restraint, the panting figure raised the knife once more and rushed him.

  “Dothan!” January shoved him aside, but, as the blade descended, she lifted her hand and the knife slashed her forearm. The attacker raised the weapon once more, but stepped backward with a groan before running into the darkness of an adjoining parking lot.

  “January!” shouted Dothan. “No!”

  She wavered, holding her arm and collapsing to her knees. Blood gushed from the open wound.

  “You son of a bitch,” screamed Dothan to the disappearing figure.

  January moaned. In desperation, he ripped the sleeve of his shirt, tying the torn fabric around the gash. His hands were shaking as he scrambled for his phone.

  “I’m calling 911,” he said. “Don’t worry. They’ll be here soon.”

  “No,” whispered January. “Please. Just take me back to the apartment. I’ll be fine once I’m there.”