Picked

by Jettie Woodruff

  I waited an extra thirty minutes, wanting Matt to leave, too. He was already suspicious and I hadn’t even done anything yet. My hands were clammy, my heart raced, and my fingers trembled, trying to open the filing cabinet. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. It was locked. Now what the hell was I supposed to do?

  Chapter 4

  Looking around the office, observing who was still there, I hesitated. My father couldn’t see me from his office, Kevin was on the phone, and two of the older agents were talking and leaving together. Walking around the office to the fountain, I peeked in on my dad. He was busy on the phone, pointing to some papers on his desk. I hunched my shoulders and walked away, hearing him raise his voice and feeling bad for whoever was on the other end.

  Keeping one eye on Kevin, I ran my fingers under Marti’s desk in search of a key. Finding nothing, I moved to behind the cabinet. Nothing. Pouting, I figured she had them with her. Not one person in this office locked their filing cabinets. Why the hell did the locked one have to be the one I wanted in? I knew there were keys on the inside closet door of my dad’s office. Surely he kept a spare. I mean, it was his business and all. Wouldn’t he want access to the files?

  I should have let it go. I should have just wandered over to my fat guy’s house and worked my own case. The stubborn streak my father says I also inherited from my mother wouldn’t let me.

  “Hmmm, what’d you do?” my father asked.

  “I didn’t do anything. I was hungry, so I ordered you something, too. Kevin’s still here. I could give it to him if you don’t want it.”

  “No. No. I’ll eat it. Sit down. Let’s talk.”

  Great. That’s not what I wanted to do. Sitting at the desk in front of my dad, I unwrapped my lunch with a deep sigh.

  “How you like living alone? Ready to come home yet?”

  “No, Dad. I’m twenty-two. I shouldn’t be living with my dad. I’m supposed to be out on my own.”

  “Says who? You’d still be there if your meddling grandmother kept her nose out of my business.”

  “I’m her business, too, and she didn’t do anything but leave me her house. I was planning on moving out anyway. You should be happy I am in the neighborhood that I’m in.”

  “I like having you where I can keep an eye on you.”

  “Dad. I’m not a kid anymore. Really? Do we have to do this again?” I asked, annoyed. Why couldn’t he be like any other father? He was so frustrating sometimes.

  “I’m just saying you tend to wander in the wrong direction without guidance.”

  Taking a deep breath, I calmed my brewing temper. “I’m doing fine on my own.”

  “You should get a dog. Let’s go over to the pound this week and pick out a nice watch-dog.”

  “I have a cat. I don’t want a dog.”

  “What the hell’s a cat going to do? You really got a cat? Why?”

  “I’ve always wanted a cat. You would never let me, remember?”

  “That’s because they’re good for nothing. Name one thing a cat does besides leave hair all over the place.”

  “He doesn’t shed, just a little. I love him. He keeps me company.”

  “Most girls your age have guys to do that.”

  “I’m done.” I stood. I wasn’t going there again, either.

  “Sit down. I’m just saying. I’ll shut up. Eat your lunch. I can’t help it. I worry about you. You’re my daughter. I’m supposed to worry.”

  I plopped back to my seat. It was times like this when I wanted to bring up my profession. If he were so worried about me, he wouldn’t allow me to follow in his footsteps. Most of the time he was safe, but I knew for a fact there were times he was in danger. We all were to a certain point. My dad didn’t take the dangerous cases after my mom left us. I guess he figured I needed at least one parent to look after me. He mostly did local, mild cases like insurance fraud where he wasn’t in any real danger. I presume that was his plan for me as well. I couldn’t see him putting me on a drug or prostitution case. He’d keep giving me cases like the one I was on and I would continue to be bored out of my mind. I would never dress up like a hooker anyway.

  Felisha did that once. She ended up leaving the firm and Philadelphia. She brought down Mayor Fore, had him on camera and all. She ended up leaving the state because of the controversy. Nothing ever came of it after that. I was only like nine when that happened, but I remembered it. I just knew that Fore continued to be mayor and Felisha disappeared. I heard talk that he paid her off. I assumed that’s what happened, too. When she left, so did all the evidence.

  “You going to be around here for a while? I’ve got to meet a client at Bino’s.”

  “Not too much longer. I can lock up.” And there it was again, that adrenaline surge. I think I was such a straight-laced kid my entire life it affected my ability to be bad. Chasing a food truck with no seatbelt on was my idea of being rebellious, and even then, I was afraid of getting busted and usually pulled it on.

  Yes! I silently screamed. It was a beautiful day out and my dad left his jacket hanging by the door. Although I watched him pull the keys from his pants and lock his office. I knew he had an office key hidden in the inside pocket. He’d learned his lesson after having to break in when we’d take a cab to work, which he did on occasion. If there was something big going on in the city, we took a cab. It was the quickest way to the office, yet it felt dreadfully slow, hence why we didn’t need to be right downtown.

  Watching my dad hail a cab from the window, I turned, making sure I was truly alone. I got an eerie feeling once I realized I was. Shaking it off, I hurriedly continued with my mission. I unlocked the office door, took the key with a big red M on it, sure it was for Marti, sprinted to her locked cabinet, ran back to replace the key, locked my dad’s office, and put his key back. Out of breath, I panted as the adrenaline rushed through my veins. Taking the thicker-than-I-thought folder, I closed the cabinet. Shit. I needed to lock it back up. I placed the file in my bag and ran the race again, tracing my steps until all was the way it should be and I was again, out of breath.

  I may have been better at this stuff than I thought. I could be sneaky, I proudly showed off to myself and headed toward my destination. Hoping I could put fat, bald guy behind me, I followed the slow moving traffic out of town. My mind wasn’t on him, of course. It was on Becker Cole and his three wives. I just couldn’t fathom sharing a man with two other women. I knew it went on. I’d even started watching one of the reality shows about it after learning about Becker.

  Parking my car across the street, I looked to the quiet house. The blinds were closed and it appeared to be empty. I really couldn’t tell whether or not anyone was home. There was a one car garage, and it was closed. Someone could have been home, I presumed, taking my awaiting case from my bag.

  I spent twenty minutes reading about the girls. They were all very pretty and young, maybe eighteen, nineteen years old, all blondes, maybe early twenties. You couldn’t tell nowadays. Twelve-year-old girls looked like they were twenty. I bet he picked them that way. He probably wanted them young so he could brainwash them with his religion. Tell them how they needed to submit to him in order to get into Heaven. I watched a few documentaries on YouTube where the wives were conditioned into believing that they needed their keeper. The keeper held the keys to the pearly gates of Heaven.

  All three girls had pretty much the same backgrounds as well. Only one of the three had graduated high school. They were somewhat troubled girls, and they all looked a little rough around the edges, from the pictures anyway. I was sure the photos weren’t recent, and wondered what the girls looked like now.

  Becker had money. Did his wives have makeovers? Did he make them dress in fancy duds and wear six-inch heels? Did they have wedding ceremonies? Which one was first? I continued to read, figuring out that Christina Mays was first, but only by a few months. She’d been with him the longest, not quite two years. Alana Ward was next by nine months, and last was Britney Thomas. She’d only been t
here since February. That was only seven months.

  Those girls had to have been there against their will. He was holding them there with something, I was sure of it. I was going to have to do this on my own. Marti had basic information, probably because she wasn’t into the case the way I was. I expected a lot more from her than what I’d gotten.

  Thinking about what my next move should be, I looked up just in time to see Mr. Zimmer walk out of his house. Armed and ready, I moved the camera, focusing in as he walked down the three concrete steps. He held the railing, grimacing as he descended each step. He was really hurt, he wasn’t faking it at all. Mr. Zimmer waddled to the end of the sidewalk and pulled the lid for his mailbox. He stood, leaned against a post while he caught his breath and then started his journey back.

  I was convinced that Wayne Zimmer was not faking his injury at all and felt a little pissed off they were giving him a hard time over it. It wasn’t fair. People that were using the system were off playing golf or something, and I was spying on a man that actually needed it. What a screwed up system.

  “I’m done here. This guy really is hurt,” I said, dialing my dad.

  “I’m in the middle of something, Cass. I’ll call you back.”

  Driving home, I was sure my Zimmer case would be closed after my father saw the footage I had of him, painfully walking to the curb. I had other things on my mind. I was going to figure out why Becker wanted more than one wife, why these girls were prone to the idea, or if they even were, and how he chose them.

  I knew I should mow my yard. Mine was the only one in the neighborhood that looked neglected. I’d do it tomorrow, I told myself. I had more important things that wouldn’t allow me to stay focused on my unkempt lawn.

  Lost in pools of information, I learned a lot about Becker Cole. Now I was beyond fascinated. I got it, all of it, well since high school anyway. He seemed to come out of nowhere around the age of seventeen. His private life was very private. In one interview about his app from high school, I learned that Becker Cole didn’t talk about anything personal. He derailed every question about his life outside of the app and then again when he launched his matchmaking game, nothing about his personal life.

  Banger, Utah. That was all I knew. I assumed Becker’s parents were polygamists. He was probably raised in a colony where they homeschooled their kids. That made the most sense. Why else would a nice looking man like Becker want three wives? He could probably have a different girl every night. I didn’t get it. Why here? Why Philly? Why girls who had a past?

  Rubbing under Snowball’s neck, I pondered all I had learned. I was deep in thought when I noticed a tiny clip-art of a red door in a section of the forum notes I’d printed from Glitter. Picking it up, I tried to decode the symbols. What did this mean? I had brood over the different cryptograms, studying what they meant. Opening up a word document, I tried to decipher the gibberish. I failed. Nothing I tried worked, but I didn’t give up. I opened my game and logged on.

  Paying close attention, I noticed every door in Glitter City was blue. What significance did the red door mean, and how could I figure out what it was for. Where would I even put the code?

  Using the only twelve bucks I had of my imaginary money, I paid my dues and entered the Glitter night club. I walked my girl around the crowded room, looking for a red door. Stopping in front of the girl’s bathroom door, I noticed a tiny red door painted in the middle of the blue door. A sexy female wearing a skirt let you know this was the ladies’ room.

  KC-Beer – Hey. How are you?

  Great. Just what I wanted. Beer guy.

  Cass – fine, sort of busy. We’ll talk later. This stupid game didn’t work like that. I couldn’t get rid of him, well maybe I could have. I guess I didn’t really read the directions. I was more interested in the cheats to see if there was a way to get rid of him.

  KC-Beer – What are you busy doing? Didn’t you come to play?

  Cass –Not really. I’m meeting someone here. For a moment I thought about telling him my mission, hoping he could help. I didn’t figure he knew much more than I did though. He was on the same level. Hoping he couldn’t follow, I hit the arrow on the bathroom door.

  I was taken to an elaborate bathroom where I clicked on a couple hot chicks and read what they were saying. They were talking about getting laid one minute and talking about their dates living in other states. I didn’t get it. How were they getting laid by their game dates if they were in other states? Assuming they were having cybersex, I left the restroom. That didn’t work. It was a fake bathroom with fake people. Beer guy was leaning against the wall in his hot fake body.

  Groaning, I had to make my character walk down the hall a little before she would turn back to the bathroom. The hidden red door inside the blue door meant something, I was sure of it. Beer guy followed, turning back when I did. Moving my cursor right over the little red door instead of the arrow, I tested my luck.

  “YES!” I yelled, sending Snowball running for cover. “Wait. Come back. I was just kidding,” I tried. He didn’t listen and I was too excited to care. I was in a dark hall. Had I not known it was a game, I would have been scared. Some sort of eerie music played, and I could see shadows around me. Curiosity winning, I continued until I came to a dead-end. There was absolutely nothing but a long hallway that I walked up and down, up and down, listening to creepy music and seeing ghosts.

  Snowball jumped back to my lap, sliding my papers. Moving my hand for him, I noticed a sequence of keyboard symbols. Trying my luck again, I used the keys and pressed each button, one right after another. Careful not to scream and scare Snowball, I lightly squealed. The music changed to a jazz type beat. It reminded me of the porno I watched with Justine once. We giggled more than anything.

  Making my way toward the light, I felt the rush of adrenaline. I was smart. I was so amazingly smart it wasn’t even funny. Getting a popup telling me I must enter a password, I arrogantly typed the secret code, hoping it worked. It didn’t. I sighed, deflating my smart bubble and stepping off my pedestal. I spent four hours trying to decode the symbols, sure it was what I needed to enter through the red door.

  Finally, at quarter to four in the morning, I had it. I hoped I did anyway. “BeCkEr,” I typed. That had to be it. Looking at the clock, I debated on waiting until the next night. My eyes were starting to burn and felt heavier by the minute. Deciding, I’d just enter the code and see what was there, I sat up straighter, took a deep breath, and prayed.

  Instantly becoming fully awake, I held my breath. “What the fuck?” I asked out loud, moving Snowball from my lap. I crossed my legs and looked around, dumbstruck. Glancing to the right of my game, I noticed I was on level thirty-six. There were only thirty-five levels in the game. I was in a secret level. Normally I would have been a little cocky at my smartness, but under the circumstances, I wasn’t feeling very arrogant.

  The room was amazing. Someone really took their time designing this level of the game. The white and pink satin across the massive bed was so vivid, like I could run my fingers across it and feel its softness. The corner of the white lace curtain caught my eye when it swayed from a breeze, coming from an elegant veranda. The room was no doubt designed to please a woman.

  Soft piano music played from a set of double doors. Walking my girl toward the doors, I could almost smell the fresh scent when I entered a candle lit bathroom. Not just any bathroom. A girl’s dream bathroom. It was twice the size of my bedroom, well, if my room was a game, that is. I could almost smell the lavender candles burning. The amazing hot tub steamed and overlooked the most beautiful ocean I’d ever seen. It was dark out, but I could still see the waves, illuminated from the glow of the moon.

  I walked my character to the opened French doors, walking her out to the beautiful view of the ocean at nighttime. I could feel the sea breeze blow my hair when I watched my avatar’s hair blow in the wind. Walking around the white marble balcony, my character explored her surroundings. Elegant furniture overlooked
the most amazing view a person could ask for. Lounge chairs, a beautiful table for two, music, it was all so counterfeitingly real. Walking Glitter through the doors on the other side, she entered the bedroom again.

  Moving my cursor to the closet, I actually gasped. It was a girl’s dream come true. Beautiful dresses, shoes, purses, and jewelry lined the walls. The chandelier let off a soft blue light, glowing through the mirrored wall.

  It wasn’t just fake clothes and shoes. They were designer, very expensive, fake clothes and shoes. I clicked on a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes and they were magically displayed on my sexy character’s feet. Clicking on them again with a smile, they were mysteriously back in their place. A girl could get used to this.

  Turning back to the room, I clicked on a magazine by the bed. I could read the entire magazine if I wanted. Clicking on the bed, the covers turned down.

  “You have to bathe and click on the bed naked, before it will allow you to get in,” a voice said, coming from the speakers of my laptop. The bubble above his head was replaced with a real voice, but I could tell it was KC-Beer. I hadn’t seen two players yet that looked identical, plus he was wearing the same clothes.

  “Hello,” I stupidly said, not knowing how or if I could even talk to him.

  “Click the mike symbol.”

  “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes. How did you get in here?”

  “You’re that beer guy. How’d you get in here?”

  “Beer guy?”

  “Yes. Your name.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m that guy. Where did you get that code?”

  “Where did you get yours?”

  “Are you always this difficult?”

  “Me? You’re the one that can’t take a hint when a girl’s trying to tell you to get lost.”

  “You intrigued me.”

  “How? I tried to avoid you.”