by Francis Tint
The restaurant in Blake’s dream looked exactly the same as the one before them. It had Baroque artwork affixed on the walls and an oversized chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The restaurant was packed with couples in their fancy outfits and the super-rich in their polos. The three of them dressed in simple smart-business-casual attires would stick out like a sore thumb.
“I don’t mind treating you guys to dinner,” Blake said as she swiped through the menu on her phone, “but maybe not this place, unless the prices are listed in cents. Do we have any ideas how we’re going to get in?”
“We can always just say we need to use the restroom,” suggested Tylor.
“Do you even know the basic rules of high society?” Julia shook her head, gesturing to a sign saying “restrooms for paying customers only.”
“But we can fake an emergency,” Tylor protested.
“Just follow my lead.” Julia whipped out her lipstick and put on a blazer jacket. Instantly, she transformed into a successful businesswoman with a glamorous look that could turn heads. Her rosewood lips perfectly complemented her brunette waves, with just the right amount of makeup that accentuated her natural beauty. That surely did the trick for her, but didn’t quite help the other two. She strode toward the host, and they followed along like her minions.
“Excuse me,” she spoke, with a somewhat sophisticated accent, “I’m here on behalf of Ashlea Edwards.” She flashed her business card to the host. “My name’s Justine. Lovely to meet you.”
“Does it worry you that she carries fake business cards around?” Tylor whispered. Blake replied with a shrug.
“I’m afraid I can’t find any reservation under your company,” replied the host cordially.
“Oh apologies. You’re mistaken. I’m here to assess whether the venue is suitable for our upcoming charity ball. Ms. Edwards loves hosting fundraisers, but she is very particular with the ambiance.”
“We can certainly arrange that. Would you also like to take a look at our group discount rates?”
“The price will not be an issue, I assure you.” Julia gestured at her minions, “Come along.”
Blake and Tylor followed their con lead, looking around the décor in awe like kids in a candy shop. Abruptly, a young man with platinum blond hair brushed past Blake. Their eyes met for a brief second. In that short instant, Blake felt a strange sense of familiarity. Where had Blake seen him before?
“That dude can really lay off the bleach,” Tylor snarked.
“Huh?” Blake uttered, caught by surprise.
“The trucker boots,” Tylor gestured at the platinum blond. “Looks like we’re not the only ones here who don’t fit in.”
“So Ted here is going to provide more details on the rundown and our vision for the event,” Julia spoke with authority. “Meanwhile, would you point me in the direction of the ladies’ room?” She signaled Blake to tag along.
“Ted, would you be so kind as to come with me to the bar so we can go through our beverage selection?” the host requested politely at Tylor, who unfortunately was not accustomed to his new alias and was quite oblivious to the invitation.
“Sir?” the host repeated at a louder volume, startling Tylor. “Your name’s Ted, right? Or have I misheard?”
“Yes, my name’s Ted. That’s my name. Hi, I’m Ted,” stammered Tylor. Forensics school never had any con artist class. Not everyone could just transform into a different persona at the touch of a button like Julia. “Wine selection. Of course we got to talk about the booze. Everyone loves the booze.”
Blake and Julia entered the restroom. Flashes from her vision suddenly appeared before her eyes. It was as if she was reliving her dream. Her mind was flooded with foreign emotions. Ellen had come here to regain her composure. It had been their anniversary dinner. Why let a few phone calls disrupt the mood?
“So, the wedding ring, where do you think it is?” Julia whispered.
“Um…” Blake tried to turn her attention away from the distracting emotions. “Well, if the dream was anything to go by, she took off the ring when she was washing her hands. I think she must’ve forgotten to put it back on.”
“Yeah, I hate it when that happens. But mine are just costume rings,” she said as she played with the jewelry on her pinky. “Anyhow, what did it feel like in the dream? Were you watching them like you’re sitting in a movie?”
“No, it wasn’t like that at all. It was like… I became Ellen. In the dream, I was seeing the world through her eyes. I could taste the food. I could feel all her emotions. The two of them, Mike and Ellen, they were really in love.”
“So why did they do it?” Blake was puzzled by the question. Julia elaborated, “It’s a double suicide. Why did they kill themselves?”
“I wouldn’t be so sure that they did.”
“So you’re saying it’s a double homicide! Someone else must’ve tampered with the car then.”
That made much more sense, Blake thought to herself. Although there were some documented cases of plausible spontaneous combustion, mischief would be a far better explanation in this case. “I suppose so.” But that wouldn’t explain why she had felt the inferno inside Ellen before the car had turned to ashes. “Do you think someone would’ve picked up the ring by now?” asked Blake.
“People who come here, they grow money in their backyards. A diamond ring to them is like a coin on the street. Would you pick up a coin from a filthy street, after it’s been stepped on and kicked around by countless strangers?”
“It’s a lucky coin. You pick it up for luck.”
Julia sighed. If she rolled her eyes any farther back, it would be staring at her brain.
They took a few more steps into the restroom. Julia saw a couch in the corner and quickly sat in it. “Woah… this is one comfy beast.” She put both her feet on the couch, as if getting ready for an afternoon nap.
“Jule, let me remind you that we’re in disguise on a covert mission.” Blake walked to the farthest vanity. This was where Ellen had cleaned herself up.
She stood on the exact same spot where Ellen had stood. The foreign emotions intensified in her mind. She was so mad at Mike. Why did work always need to come first? Why couldn’t she be the priority for one day a year. Just one day a year.
She then got mad at herself for not being more understanding. Stop being so high maintenance, she told herself. They’re spending time together. Just enjoy the meal. Blake looked in the mirror and saw Ellen in the reflection. She was reliving the memory as if it’s happening all over again.
She felt torn apart. On paper, Mike’s the perfect guy. But again and again, his work would always come first. Nothing could fulfill his ambitions. Tears were coming down her face, and terrible thoughts flooded her brain. Was she just holding onto this marriage because of their boy? She needed to calm down. Deep breath.
In.
Out.
She reached in her purse and took out a pill box. She popped it open and swallowed a tablet. Blake didn’t see the label identifying the medicine, but she knew what it was.
Imperiall.
She took off the ring and put it behind the hand towels so it wouldn’t roll away. Blake reached out to remove the rolled-up towels.
“There it is,” exclaimed Julia. “You rock, girl.” The remark shocked Blake out of her dream state. She no longer carried a purse. It was only the two of them in the mirror.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Blake said automatically. She reached out to collect the ring on the countertop. As soon as she touched it, a tremor appeared around it. A shimmering glow outlined the shape of the ring. It wasn’t just the glare from the restroom light. It was as if the ring was somewhat out of place in their space. Out of shock, she let go of it.
“Hey, we just found it. We don’t want to lose it again so soon, do we?” Julia caught the ring just before it fell off the countertop. “Let’s get our asses out of here. Bye, fancy loo.” She blew the couch a kiss.
“Would white wine be more su
itable for the occasion, sir?” asked the host.
“Yeah, maybe. Why? I guess it… depends on people’s preference?” responded Tylor.
“What food would you be serving?”
“Why does that matter?”
“The wine should pair with the food,” the host spoke matter-of-factly, trying very hard to conceal his annoyance. “Would you like to take a look at our food options?”
“Yeah, why not?” How much longer would he need to keep this up? What’s taking so long? He didn’t think he could stall any longer. They had already gone through the entire wine list twice over. How he wished he had an actual drink right then. “Oh, there you are, Jul…Justine,” he said with a clear sign of relief.
“Hi ma’am,” addressed the host, “we were just about to look at the meal choices. Would you be so kind as to join us?”
“Thank you for the suggestion,” said Julia, maintaining her disguise perfectly. “Everything’s lovely here. Unfortunately, we have some concerns with accessibility around this area. Many of our charitable donors need great mobility accommodations. I’m afraid we might have to consider our other options. Thank you again for your hospitality.”
“My pleasure,” responded the host, who sounded almost grateful to get rid of the trio.
“Thank god this is over,” Tylor muttered under his breath.
“Good morning, Rachael,” greeted Blake. “How did your experiment go? Are you still getting cloudy solutions?” She dropped off her belongings at the lab and saw a cup of hot beverage on her desk. “Thanks for bringing me coffee,” she gestured to Rachael.
“No problem at all. I was running down to get one for myself, and thought you might want one when you get in,” she replied in a bubbly tone as she continued her tests. “And thank you for the trick yesterday. It really worked. By the way, how did the talk with the big boss go? Anything juicy and exciting? Anything I can help with?” Her eyes glowed with enthusiasm.
Blake pondered for a moment. “Well, as a matter of fact, yes. I would appreciate your help with this.” Ashlea gave her some liberty in choosing the team members. And conveniently, she didn’t need to reveal the entire master plan to anyone in the team. Not that she really had a plan yet. And there’s something else slightly more intriguing at the moment. “Did you say you’re on a rotational internship program here?”
“Yup. I was with the Pharmacy and Patient team for six months. Prescription is really not my thing. I mean, have you seen doctors’ handwriting? It’s like an entirely different writing system altogether.”
“Doctor’s handwriting could be tricky indeed. Since you’ve worked with the team before, do you know if we have records of all the patients prescribed with Imperiall?”
“Not everyone. Only those who fill their prescriptions using our pharmacy services. I might still have access to that database.”
“I thought that would be confidential information, highly restricted?”
“We have a patient outreach program, and guess who’s lucky enough to get to make those phone calls? Interns like us. Love the ones who lead you on for like half an hour, only to end it with a ‘no, thank you’.” Rachael explained as she typed furiously on the keyboard. Blake was amazed at how effortlessly Rachael was able to keep track of all those windows on the screen. “Ta-da. Logged in problem-free. Is there anyone in particular you’re looking for?”
“Yes, in fact, could you look up an Ellen Welsh for me?”
“Searching for Ellen Welsh,” Rachael narrated her execution. “There you go. Hm… looks like she’s a regular customer here filling her monthly prescriptions of Imperiall since her teenage years.” She clicked a few more times. “This is interesting. It says here she also signed up for a new trial two months ago on a combination therapy targeting older HMID patients.”
“That would mean she’s on another drug then. Could you find out what it is?”
“The trial program is still under the project code name. I need to do some digging to find out more about it. Let me see what’s written in the patient history tab.” She continued working her magic on the computer. “Oh, apparently she had her amniotic fluid sampled a few years ago. But that sample number doesn’t link to anything. Probably a database error, or…”
“Or what?”
“Or it was erased, but I should still be able to find the audit trail.”
“So she had a child?” Blake wasn’t surprised to learn that. In her dream, the victim had been thinking about their toddler.
“She was definitely pregnant,” answered Rachael. “So, is this all related to the new project with Ashlea?”
“Yeah, it is,” Blake spoke starkly, trying to convince herself. As long as they kept the information to themselves, they weren’t really breaching any confidentiality rules, she thought to herself. “Thank you again. This has all been super helpful. I’m amazed at how resourceful you are.”
“Helps to have friends in IT.”
“Hey, Justine,” Tylor spoke sarcastically, dragging out her alias, “I see you’re mapping the blast damage of the car that exploded. How is it coming along?”
“Hi, Ted,” Julia reciprocated the attitude. “To be honest, it ain’t looking too hot. Take a look here,” she pointed at the mapping projection. “The dispersion pattern looks super random. If the battery is the source, something else must’ve also contributed to the blow.”
“Maybe the battery isn’t the source then,” Tylor stared intently at the screen. “Can you run the simulation again assuming a different origin?”
“Well, let me try the back of the car where the fuel tank was,” Julia changed the variable and reran the algorithm. “Nope. Not a match. So where could it be?”
“They could’ve had the explosive on them.”
“Ture that,” Julia agreed with a nod. “Changing the source to the passenger seat.” They waited with bated breath as the loading bar reached 100%. “Look at that. You’re a genius. I think I’m officially in love with you.”
Tylor smirked and gave himself a pat on the back.
“And the feeling’s gone,” Julia said. “Anyhow, you got any news about the bling-bling? Blake said there’s something strange about the ring.”
“Yeah, she even sent me a few texts asking about it. But I got nothing at all,” Tylor answered. “On a macroscopic and a microscopic level, the ring is absolutely ordinary. I don’t know why Blake’s so obsessed with it.”
“Somehow, she’s very sure they didn’t kill themselves,” Julia sighed. “She’s projecting herself as Ellen. It’s a little creepy.”
“It must be all the stress from the nightmare. We’re not helping her if we continue to humor her. Let’s just give her the facts, unembellished. No more random undercover missions.” Tylor gave Julia a stern look.
Julia looked a little guilt-ridden. “It sounded fun at first! I… I didn’t think anything would come out of visiting the restaurant. Who would’ve thought she could actually produce a ring?” she replied defensively. “But I agree with you. It’s settled then. Let’s stop encouraging her.”
Tylor nodded and turned around.
“P.S.,” Julia added before he got too far, “you should never tell a girl that diamond is ordinary.”
“So you’re saying Ellen exploded, like spontaneous combustion?” asked Blake.
“No,” answered Julia assertively, “that’s not what I’m saying.” She placed her fork down beside the plate of spaghetti bolognese she had ordered from the company’s canteen. “We concluded that the blast originated from the passenger’s seat. It looked like she carried some explosives in her purse. Blake, this is a double suicide.”
She didn’t look convinced. Tylor added, “You just told us she’d suffered from HMID since her teenage years. Mood swings, depressions are all associated with it. They probably went out for a nice last supper, and headed to a romantic spot to end it all.”
“It was where they met, and where they got engaged,” Blake interjected.
“Exactly. They wanted to relive their happiest moment one last time,” Tylor said. “It’s a very tragic story. But don’t let it bother you too much.”
“Listen, we know you’ve been crazy stressed out with the nightmare and the new responsibility,” Julia said. “Hear me out. We still need to celebrate your new opportunity. Why don’t we hit up the bar tonight? I’m sure Tylor would be very happy to treat us.” Tylor shot a quick glare at Julia.
“It just doesn’t add up,” Blake protested. “Blowing up your car is such a strange way to go. She might be mildly depressed, but they had a good thing going, a young family…”
“They had a kid?” asked Julia. “How do you know that?”
“I…” Blake paused. The truth was, she had felt it in the dream, but would they believe her? She reconsidered her response. “The intern in my lab, Rachael, found out that Ellen had her amniotic fluid tested a couple of years ago.”
“We keep that sort of information from our patients? Now I wonder what the giant corps out there know about me,” Julia half-joked, then turned her attention to the news. “Woah, speaking of the devil.” It was airing an interview of a grandmother with a two-year-old, with the caption “Orphan from tragic suicide: mother of victim describes daughter as sweet and caring”.
Tylor remarked, “Oh, I recognize the house. It’s down the street from where my grandmother lives.”
“Would you be able to take us there?” asked Blake.
“Why would we go there?” Tylor paused for a moment. “The old lady probably doesn’t want to be disturbed. Plus, we have absolutely no connections to the victims.”
“I think she deserves to know the truth about her daughter. We can find out more about Ellen. I’m telling you: it’s not a suicide. I can feel it. There’s no way.”
Tylor pursed his lips, not wanting to further irritate her. When Blake had set her mind on something, she would not back down easily. “But… how are we going to get ourselves invited to her house?” he asked tentatively, hoping she would back down from the roadblock.
“I know! We can disguise as investigators,” suggested Julia, twirling the spaghetti with her fork, “but I don’t think we’re good enough to impersonate police officers.”
