by David Clark
Her long delicate fingers eventually made the correct gesture, and both appeared on the surface of her glass desk. The manicured tips of her fingernails tapped away on the keyboard while her eyes darted around uncomfortably. She paused after just a moment of tapping and turned away from Gina and Lynch as she spoke to an invisible person on the end of her headset. The conversation was in hushed tones, and didn’t take any longer than, “There is a guest here for Mr. Hines.”
She turned back to them, with the smile returned, but more forced than before. No sign of the outcome of her conversation, or what it was even related to. Instead, just a smile and a stare in their direction. Her hands laid, one on top of the other, flat on the glass desk. Lynch hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps this was the first time it happened, but the WNN logo floated slowly across the front of the desk, in letters that had to be three feet tall.
The fabric wall to the right parted in an invisible seam. A giraffe walked out. Not an actual giraffe, but a woman as tall as he was, or so it seemed in her heels, with the longest legs he had ever seen. It wasn’t hard with a skirt that stopped well short of mid-thigh. Lynch second guessed his strategy.
“Come with me.”
They followed, two thuds and four high pitched clicks on the marble floor. Behind the walls was a hive of activity in an ocean of half cubes. Many panels of information floated above each, as everyone was involved with heated and impassioned conversations over their headsets. Obviously working their sources for some hot lead for their next award-winning, or political leader tearing down, report. No matter how involved they were, their gazes followed the strangers through their area, without pausing their work for even a split second.
Lynch noticed the four high-pitched clicks had now become only two, and looked over at Gina. She had adjusted her stride to match that of the woman they followed. This adjustment wasn’t an accidental occurrence, or even the synchronization one might find in a pendulum snake. The schoolgirl smirk on Gina’s face was all the evidence he needed of that.
They turned the corner into a long hallway. The marble floor transitioned into a rich dark-red wood floor. The gloss coat was so thick on them, it looked like an inch of water floated on top of them. The hallway was lined with offices along either side, with small reception areas in the front. Without anyone telling him, Lynch knew they would not be led into any of those offices. It was the large one with a waiting area that rivaled the elevator lobby at the end that was their destination. A similar glass desk stood there, waiting for them, and its occupant who had led them down the hallway.
She rounded the desk and then took a seat in her rolling chair. The back of the chair was low and didn’t appear to provide a lot of support. Not that she needed it. Her back stayed board straight as she sat and crossed her ankles behind the translucent front of her desk. A gentle toss of her long raven hair over her shoulders revealed a similar plastered-on smile that they had seen from her counterpart at the front. She had pleasant eyes, which took a second to study both of them, and then she said, “If you will have a seat, Mr. Hines will be with you shortly. He doesn’t have an opening on his schedule, but said he will make the time.” She gestured to a row of chairs to the right.
“Thank you,” Lynch said while he adjusted his tie, which felt odd since he hadn’t worn one in years. He took two steps to the right and then paused while Gina continued. The room took a spin on him, which he shook his head to counter. For the briefest of moments, the membranes that separate all the dimensions in the universe shifted back and forth, giving Lynch an unasked for view. In that moment, he saw the world everyone else knew, and several layers of the world only he knew, all overlaid over the top of each other. It was horrifying, disorienting, and informative, all at the same time. Something dark, very dark, had crossed through that space recently.
Gina was about to sit when Lynch backed up and asked, “is it okay if we sit over here instead?” pointing to the chairs against the left wall.
The question appeared to catch her off guard and caused a, “Um, sure.”
Lynch stumbled a step and then regained his balance as he headed for the chairs. His temples received a massage after he sat down. It didn’t chase the headache away. It never had in the past, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He would need to tough it out, but that shouldn’t be too difficult. It should be short-lived, since his visit to that place, while deep, was brief.
Gina joined him and sat in the chair next to him.
“You okay?” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.
“Yeah, fine. More than fine. I am more engaged with this now than I was before.”
There was no whisper out of the side of her mouth this time. Gina turned straight to Lynch, “Why?”
“Something very dark has been here. Very dark.”
19
Much to Lynch’s pleasure, they didn’t have to wait long. To his displeasure, the hidden door that opened was right in the middle of a place he didn’t want to revisit. The door sprang open and created a dark square in the brown fabric-covered walls. With what he knew about the area, that doorway could be the entryway to hell. Of course, considering some of the stories Devon Hines ran on his network, it only made sense he would be in cahoots with the Devil himself. The cynic in Lynch felt most major power players were. Of course, he knew that wasn’t a possibility, just a theme popularized in movies and shows. Anyone of any power had to be evil. Those without, were the true heroes.
“Mr. Hines will see you now.”
“Thank you.” Lynch was the first to stand, but he made sure Gina stood and took the first step before he followed. This might have made him look like a gentleman to the receptionist who watched as they crossed the room, but that was not the reason behind his move. With her in front, he could place a hand on her arm to steady himself easier from behind than he could if he was in front of her.
Lynch felt the spot as he neared it. The edges of the path were cold. Like the air that escapes out of the freezer door when you open it. The further he walked in, the cold changed to nothing, which is a sensation that Lynch wouldn’t know how to explain to anyone if he tried. It is just a blank, no sound, no light, no temperature, just a void, but he knew that wasn’t the worst. This was just the border of the worst. Lynch had experienced this only a half dozen times before. It made sense to him. If he was able to visit the other layers, then the creatures that existed there can visit his. He figured, as they did, they left a supernatural wake in their path. The stronger the creature, the bigger the wake. Another one of his theories, but one he felt was closer to fact than some of his others. He heard others describe similar feelings when they crossed a ghost or other supernatural presence on any number of paranormal investigative shows he watched as research.
Lynch felt them all, but it was the evil ones he felt the most. The darker the creature, the worse the wake. It ranged from anything from dizziness and nausea, to full-on blackouts. As always, the headache followed. He reasoned that since he had headaches when he visited their realms, he would have the same when he crossed them in his. In normal situations, he tried to avoid them, no matter where he saw them. Something told him they weren’t to be messed with. He always guessed it was his fear.
The room started to spin, and his body closed his eyes in response. What his body didn’t know, is this wasn’t an inner eye based dizziness. The spinning was in his mind. It was like the vortex of a great tempest, throwing images and sensations around. None of them staying still and in focus long enough for him to make sense of it. His mind was in the middle of it all and spun in the opposite direction of the images.
Lynch reached forward and grabbed Gina’s arm. He could feel her jump and her muscles tense up. “Just keep walking,” he said under his breath.
The connection between Lynch and Gina’s arm was his lifeline. With his eyes closed, he could feel every nuance of her movements. When she stepped straight and then at a slight angle to the left, he assumed it was a move toward the door.
It had to be, yet it got worse. He was now in the center of their slipstream. Just a small dingy in the wake of a great ocean liner of pure evil. He felt it. Whatever had crossed through here, had the dread of dozens of souls attached to it. Souls it had wronged, no wait, wronged wasn’t a strong enough word. Souls that had been violated, attacked, tormented, and extinguished. He felt all of their fear and pain at the same time, which he assumed was somewhere in the world that whizzed past him. What he didn’t feel was remorse.
“Don’t let me bump into a chair,” Lynch whispered.
He hoped for a response, but then realized he didn’t really need one. The vortex had slowed and the nothing had returned, which meant if they kept moving in that direction, they would clear it. Another step, and the freeze set in. He opened his eyes, even though he knew what would follow. There is no pain like freeze drying your optic nerves. A mistake he made once, and then never did it again. This time, he had no choice. How would it look if he had his eyes closed entering the office? When he opened them, there was the haze of the current to his right, following the wall closely, and it ended somewhere he would have never suspected.
The office was bright. White tiles. White walls. White glossy desk, with two white chairs in front of it. He half expected to see Devon sitting there in a white suit, instead, he wore a dark blue shirt with grey slacks. He stood behind the desk to greet his guests. The matching grey jacket hung on the back of the white leather chair behind him. Which also happened to be the spot where the path of haze ended.
No way, thought Lynch. He walked around one of the two chairs. He watched as Gina reached across the desk to shake Devon’s hand, and braced himself for his turn. When he reached over, he felt nothing but a strong handshake and a slight tinge of something else, just like he had the night before. He was not the source of the trail, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved with it.
“Have a seat.”
They did.
Devon Hines ignored Lynch, and instead studied Gina as she stepped in front of the chair and slowly sat down. He waited until she had finished settling in the seat before he walked away from the desk to a bureau, which was also glossy white. The view through the wall of windows behind his desk was breathtaking. It was a sea of blue sky, not other buildings. They were up high enough to see over anything else in that section of town. Natural sunlight bathed the entire office. Lynch only noticed two other lights in the whole office.
“Coffee?” Devon held up a coffee pot, also ceramic white.
“Yes, please,” Gina said.
“None for me,” said Lynch, even though he was fairly sure he wasn’t asking him. His gaze was still fixated on Gina.
Devon poured two cups of coffee, also white. “I have to say I was a little surprised to hear you were here. I told you everything I knew last night, I also talked to your old partner this morning, and called off their investigation. The coroner contacted me early today and ruled it a suicide.”
“Yes. I heard.” Lynch didn’t volunteer anything else. He just wanted to watch Devon squirm.
There was no squirming as he handed Gina her cup of coffee. Devon stood straight and confident as he leaned over his desk to hand the cup to her, making her lean forward a good bit to reach it. He held that position to observe her retrieving her cup and then returning to her chair. Only then did Devon sit back down behind his desk. He placed both hands on the top of his desk and rolled up close, in what Lynch had to assume was his power stance. He looked extremely comfortable behind the enormous desk that had to stretch a good fifteen feet from end to end.
“Okay, good. Wasn’t sure if that information would be shared with you. Since you aren’t on the force anymore.” Devon smirked and let it ruminate in the air around them and seemed to look at Lynch with great anticipation. Lynch remained stone faced, even though he knew what Devon had just done, or attempted to. “Then, I have to say, what can I do for you?” Again, Gina was the focus of his attention, with just a hint of his million dollar smile shining through.
“Well, Mr. Hines. First I want to say again how sorry I am for your loss.”
“Thank you. It has hit us all hard. My wife is inconsolable. I imagine a person of your background finds it odd that I am here at work.”
With his usual compassionate warmth of a piece of granite, he replied, “No, not at all. Everyone deals with grief in their own way.”
“Yes, I guess they do. I thought about staying home, but found myself bouncing around aimlessly. Here I get a few moments of distractions.” Devon waved his hand across his desktop to gesture at no less than what, Lynch would guess, was twelve screens. Another ten sprang up from the surface and hung in the air between Devon and Gina. Just as quick as they emerged, he dragged his hand in the other direction and they all disappeared. “I am sure this will only go so far to help. Little things, like a song or a smell, remind me of her. Take my coffee, for instance. We used to sit around the table in the morning. She would tell me about her day coming up, and I drank my coffee. Every time I take a sip I… hear her voice. And take seeing you here. That reminds me of last night when you and your ex-partner stopped by to tell me the news. So, detective.. umm, excuse me, Mr. Lynch, why are you here? What about a tragic suicide interests you?” His head rolled toward Lynch, taking the spotlight off of Gina for the first time since they sat.
“Call it loose ends.” Lynch snapped a rare smile, as he let that phrase linger.
Devon leaned forward against his glass desk, both forearms firmly on the surface. His head tilted slightly when he asked, “What kind of loose ends?”
“Well, last night you promised us a list of her friends, old boyfriends, and anyone you felt might have a grudge against you.” Lynch paused and pulled out a pen and notepad from inside his sports coat. He pointed the top of the pen at Devon. “I know you said that could be a rather lengthy list, but every lead should be looked into.”
“Leads to what? My daughter committed suicide according to the coroner. What do you hope to accomplish by digging around anymore? There is no great mystery here.”
“Oh, but there is.”
Devon sprang backwards in his chair.
“Several mysteries. Most importantly, what could cause a girl that, from every appearance had everything to live for, to commit suicide? There are puzzle pieces missing, and I want to find them.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight. A coroner, the head medical examiner for the entire city, said it was a suicide. According to the report they gave me, no evidence was found at the scene to suggest foul play. No one else was there. With all that, you, an ex-cop, doesn’t agree and think it is all wrong?”
“Yep.”
“May I ask why?”
“It doesn’t make sense, and things that don’t make sense bother me. There is more there than just a suicide. I know it, and you know it.” Lynch paused to let the weight of that partial accusation land on him. Digging that sharp spade in a little deeper in the flowerbed that Mr. Hines was trying so hard to cover. Then Lynch attempted to draw a little more blood, “It is no coincidence that five other girls are missing. Five other girls from well to do families, who were all last seen climbing into the back of an Autoride. Which there was no record of. You don’t have to be a detective to see the uncomfortable similarities.”
“You think they are related?” he scoffed.
“I do. Come on. You worked your way up the ranks here as an investigative journalist, didn’t you? Even if it was just for a short time.”
Devon leaned back in his chair hard enough to hit the limit with a thud. He crossed one leg over his knee and then propped his chin up with one elbow. “I admit, on the surface, one could see that, but that is only because they don’t have the whole story.”
“The part about it already being ruled a suicide?” Lynch jabbed with a sharp blade, stopping just before giving it a little twist.
“That, and other small details.” Devon adjusted himself in the seat and gave Gina a quick glance. Lynch
could see the wheels turning in his head, as he stalled and put on his best concerned look. Several nervous ticks ensued, but they were cliché ones. The rubbing of the head with a single hand. A quick wipe of the eyes. A shake and roll of the head. Each alone gives the impression that someone was uncomfortable. Altogether, at the same time, gave the impression of someone wanting to look uncomfortable. “Look, it’s not something we were proud of, and by all means I can’t afford it getting out.”
“You have my word,” Lynch abruptly interrupted.
The interruption startled Devon, who shifted again. This time turning sideways and leaning in the back of his chair. “Okay, good. Cheryl was troubled. We, her mom and I, did everything we could to help her. She was lost. No direction on what she wanted to do, or the type of person she wanted to be. I have blamed myself since she left. I should have been there more, and helped influence her, but instead she bounced from one bad person to the other. I believe she got into some drugs which, as you know, just makes a person like her spin out of control faster.” He paused a minute for a confirmation nod from Gina and Lynch. Devon continued, awkwardly, “Well, at that point any time I tried to say anything, it was all wrong and it ended in a fight. We had more of those than I can remember. She started disappearing. First for a night, then a couple of nights. Once it was a week, and then… then she left and never came back. I tried to look for her, but to be honest I didn’t know where to start, and just hoped she would come home.”
“Do you have their names?”
“Names?” Devon’s head jerked toward Lynch as if a giant fist had punched the other cheek.
“Yes. You said she bounced from one bad person to the other.”
