by Tom Howard
Hopping out of his Challenger, he huffed as he walked inside of the precinct. It’s too early for this he thought, sipping his coffee as he plopped down in front of his computer. Given the time, there was hardly anyone in the bullpen, and during the night, most of the lights were kept off, which left only dim lighting, along with only a few desk lamps, which barely made enough light to see where you were going. Wyatt wiped the sleep from his eyes as he turned on his own lamp, followed by him pulling the memory card from his phone. Upon placing it in the computer, he began leafing through pictures until finally stopping at the one he took of Michelle. Sitting there, he stared at the photo and wondered two things, how a woman could be so beautiful, and what secrets hid behind those saddened eyes.
“It’s a little early for you to be in here, isn’t it, detective?”
Wyatt looked over to see a familiar face standing by one of the offices. “Ah, morning Captain.”
“Barely.” Captain Castle replied as she glanced down at her watch. “What are you doing?” The Captain was pretty easy on the eyes, about 5’7” with long brunette hair, brown eyes, and a slender build. Those who knew her best would say she’s buttoned up, but not always by the book, in fact, she’s probably one of the most out of the box thinkers in the precinct. She’s never failed to close any case she has ever worked on, even if that case had more twists and turns than a roller coaster.
Wyatt let out a short sigh. “Couldn’t sleep, working on a missing person’s case.”
Captain Castle’s brow furrowed, “You’re a homicide detective.”
Wyatt could hear the unspoken question soon to follow. “Yes ma’am, but this case kind of fell into my lap, and by the looks of things, it almost was a homicide.”
The Captain could see Wyatt’s computer screen from where she stood. “Yeah, she looks pretty roughed up.” In the picture, Michelle had done what she could to get rid of the bruises under some make up while at the diner, but a trained detective could see what was hiding in plain sight.
“I’ve got the girl, now I just need to find who’s missing her.” Wyatt said as he looked over the picture. “And it would be much easier to do if she could remember something about her past.”
“You’re a bright detective, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Captain Castle grinned, but it was short lived once she realized what was coming up. “Hey, isn’t it almost the anniversary of…”
Wyatt looked over his shoulder at her and nodded. “It’ll be ten years this month.” Not a day went by when Wyatt didn’t remember what happened. The Captain was a Sergeant Detective back then and first on scene of the alleged accident. Originally she had been chasing Wyatt, about ready to bring him in for running drugs, but when he arrived and found her overseeing what was going on she decided, in the midst of his heart break, to give him a second chance to turn his life around and bring down the one who caused such an injustice. “I miss him.” Wyatt added. “And after all this time, I can’t believe I still haven’t found anything to put Damon behind bars. All I need is for him to screw up once, just once let something slip so I can nail him.”
“Between you and me, I’m surprised you haven’t put a bullet between his eyes.”
“I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but I got out of that life a long time ago. Besides, I’m not letting him off that easily, I want him to suffer knowing he’ll never be free again, trapped in his own mind while he rots in solitary the rest of his life. I want him to live long enough to see everything he holds dear ripped out of his arms.” Wyatt wasn’t the type to tear up, always maintaining a rough exterior, but remembering the loss he suffered brought him closer than anything ever could.
Captain Castle, though keeping her detective resolve, had a soft spot for Wyatt, she really felt for him, having suffered a similar loss herself with the death of her father. “If there’s ever anything you need…”
“Thanks Captain.” Wyatt nodded as he slowly returned his attention back to the computer screen, all the while, a hint of remembrance lingered in his mind. Though he would never forget, for the time being, he had to focus on helping Michelle. Pushing his thoughts and feeling to the back of his mind, Wyatt used the picture to scour through national police and hospital records, hoping to get a bite, learning who she is and where she’s from.
While the facial recognition program was combing through thousands of people, Wyatt leaned back in his chair, about to close his eyes when something caught his attention. His brow furrowed in curiosity, and he felt his heart quicken. That’s not possible he thought as his gaze locked on someone across the room. The sight before him sent a cold shiver down his spine. Wyatt was in complete disbelief as the same man from his dream was standing there by the elevator. His back was turned as in the dream, but Wyatt had to know for sure if it really was him. Slowly he rose from his chair and began making his way across the bullpen. However, as Wyatt stepped in the middle of the room, the man turned away from him and began walking down the hall. Wyatt got a quick glimpse of the back side of the man’s face, which appeared to be a darker shade of red, but it wasn’t enough, so he cautiously pressed on, following the man into the hallway. The only things down there were a couple of offices, and the bathrooms just around the next corner. Wyatt had never dealt with anything like this before and grew leery of the whole situation. It was about that time he wished he had a gun. It wasn’t that he wasn’t trusted with one, he’s just never liked them. With silent footsteps, Wyatt inched his way down the hallway, lagging only a few meters behind the mysterious man. There was nowhere for him to go in order to leave the building except back the way he came, and though Wyatt could feel his heart beating in his throat, he had to know who he was. The lights flickered for a brief moment, nearly sending Wyatt through the roof. He hated being scared, it wasn’t in his nature, and it took a lot to do it, but the dream was the first thing in a long time to elicit fear, and to be followed by this…it couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Even though the lights had gone out for barely a second, when they became steady, the man appeared to have vanished into thin air. Wyatt was certain of what he saw and that the man did not walk by him. As he was looking around, wondering what just happened, the sound of the bathroom door closing around the corner grabbed his attention. Wyatt wasn’t one to believe in ghosts, then again, he’d never woken up from a dream with a memento. With his heart racing and every fiber wanting to walk away, he slowly crept to the end of the hallway. Peering around the corner, Wyatt’s eyes widened as a shadow passed by the glass on the bathroom door. It almost appeared to stop, briefly gaze at Wyatt, then continue to move across the room. Wyatt took a deep breath in order to regain his hardened resolve. And as he reached for the door handle, he heard footsteps moving slowly behind the door. There was no turning back, he had to know what he truly saw, so with one quick thrust, Wyatt threw open the door, ready to throw a punch at the first thing to move, and nearly knocked out a fellow officer who was standing behind the door.
“Whoa!” Officer Sanchez screamed in surprise, nearly jumping out of his skin.
“Where is he?” Wyatt said with a slight growl in his voice.
“Who?”
“The guy who just came in here!” Wyatt was worked up and wanted answers.
“There’s no one in here but me.” Sanchez replied, hoping not to get hit.
“Don’t give me that! I heard him come in here!”
“It was probably the stall door, I just came out.”
Wyatt looked around to find Officer Sanchez was telling the truth. He couldn’t believe he’d just wasted his time looking for someone who was probably only a figment of his imagination. Wyatt shook his head, furrowed his brow in irritation, and headed back to his desk. He hoped there was going to be some good news awaiting him, but as he looked at the computer screen, it read “no results”.
Wyatt plopped down in his chair and glared at the words…who are you? He wondered.
Hours passed, and though the rain had let
up, grey clouds covered the sunlight, casting a dreary feeling over the town. The weather wasn’t usually like this, it even had the weathermen baffled. The fog which had rolled in the night before, though still lying around, had become much thinner than the previous evening, something for which Wyatt was grateful as he drove through town. He was still a little groggy from lack of sleep, so aside from his coffee, he turned on his MP3 player and blasted a song called “The House Rules” by Christian Kane. He had kind of a rock and roll country sound, which was easy to see why he was able to stay awake. Before he knew it, Wyatt arrived at the hotel to pick up Michelle.
He knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so he let himself in, hoping she was decent. “Knock knock, Michelle?” He spoke loud enough his voice traveled throughout the suite, however, after a few seconds, there was still no reply. His brow furrowed as he cautiously made his way inside. The suite looked basically untouched except for a bottle of water and some fruit in the kitchen. Wyatt wasn’t liking what he heard, or rather didn’t hear. He had been through situations like this before in which he had to take out a target. He was quick, precise, and never left any sign, not even of a struggle, and that was exactly what he was reminded of as he made his way room to room, each showing a lack of use. “Michelle!” He yelled, closing in on panic. Again, silence. At first, he wondered if she could have been in the shower, due to the master bedroom door having been shut, but as he threw it open, there was no sound of running water. The sheets were a mess and her clothes from the other night, along with a wet towel sat upon them. Where are you? He wondered, hoping for any sign of where Michelle may have gone.
Wyatt ran out of the suite and back down toward his Challenger to call in a missing person, however, as he reached the front door… “Wyatt! Hey, what’s the rush?” Immediately he stopped in his tracks and found it was Michelle, she was having breakfast in the dining room. “I made you a plate.” She added.
Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed his hair back, out of his eyes. “Don’t do that to me again, I thought you’d been taken.” He said as he sat down next to her.
“I thought you said I was safe here?”
“You are, it’s just…ever since last night, strange things have been happening.”
“Like what?”
Wyatt thought about it for a second. “It’s probably nothing.” He thought it best not to worry her with any details. “You about ready to go?”
They finished their breakfast then were off to explore the town. As they went, Wyatt hoped the fog wouldn’t hinder the return of Michelle’s memory. Thankfully it continued to stay thinned out, otherwise it would’ve been a nightmare to look for anything. Michelle looked around with wonder in her eyes as though she were seeing life for the very first time, and she might as well have been because there wasn’t a single thing she recognized.
As they continued to drive along, Wyatt took a back road as a shortcut to another part of town, and Michelle spotted something slowly appearing through the fog. It was an old abandoned truck sitting along the side of the road. It looked oddly out of place, Michelle couldn’t put her finger on quite what, but it looked strangely familiar. As Wyatt glanced at it with curiosity, Michelle gasped as an image suddenly flooded her mind.
“What is it? Are you ok?” Wyatt took quick notice of the frightened look Michelle wore. “Did you see something?”
Michelle gazed at the truck, “No, I remembered something…something horrible.”
“What was it? Maybe it’ll give us some insight into what happened to you.”
Michelle sat there in silence for a few seconds, letting the image sink in, wondering what it meant. “I was in a small meadow, kneeling a little ways from a blue truck which had crashed into a lone tree. It’s dark, but the sky is clear, everything was lit up by the moonlight. And as I was looking at the truck, I saw blood spatter on the driver’s side window, with a lifeless woman hunched over the steering wheel. In the bed of the truck was a dismembered man hung over the side, dead, with a look of pure terror etched on his face. And worst of all, next to the truck was an overturned car seat lying in the grass. I couldn’t see the baby, but I could hear its cry.”
It was clear to see Michelle was distraught by the image she had seen. It wasn’t at all what he hoped to bring to the surface by jogging her memory. He stopped the car and wrapped his arms around her, hoping to calm her. If there was one thing that ol’ county boy hated seeing, it was a woman crying. As Wyatt held her, Michelle felt safe, as though nothing could harm her, and she was right, Wyatt wouldn’t let anything happen to her. As long as his heart was beating, she would be protected.
Wyatt had worked too many homicides to count, but what Michelle described didn’t ring a bell, and it was definitely something he would remember. Maybe another detective caught the case, although, it sounded like a story he would have heard or at least read about. “I need to ask you, do you remember when that happened or if what you saw happened around here?”
Michelle tried to recall any other details about the tragedy, however, her amnesia was too strong. She sat there shaking her head, “I don’t know.” She replied. “Maybe it was close to here, anything is possible. But there’s something strange about the whole thing. While the image is frightening to me now, when I was actually there, I wasn’t scared at all. Does that make sense? I mean something like that should cause fear.”
“It should.” Wyatt replied, glancing between Michelle and the road. “Unless…you’re used to seeing that kind of stuff.” The thought crossed his mind, could she have been trying to help, been another potential victim, or even the one who cause the tragedy? As a detective, it was his job to look at the scenario from all angles. He had a kind of sixth sense about who the bad guys were, and just wasn’t getting that kind of vibe from Michelle.
“I wish I knew.” She spoke softly.
For the rest of the morning, Wyatt drove Michelle all over town, even some on the outskirts, and still had no luck regaining anymore memories. Just when they were about to head back to the hotel, Michelle saw something which felt familiar. “Stop the car!” Her tone was urgent.
“What are we doing here?” Wyatt asked after bringing the car to a screeching halt.
“I’m not sure, I feel like I know this place…like I use to come here a lot.”
They both stepped out of the car, staring at the front of a standalone Chinese restaurant. As they walked in and looked around, they found it was a very nice place. Tables and booths were arranged nicely, detailed artwork both hung on the walls and stood around the room, and though the lights weren’t very bright, it all went to create a comfortable atmosphere. Wyatt could understand the appeal, but as they were walking around, Michelle suddenly felt uneasy.
“What is it? Wyatt’s brow furrowed, almost as if expecting trouble.
“I don’t know, I feel like I’m being weighed down, and it’s a little harder for me to breathe, almost as if the air in here is somehow thicker.”
“You want to go?”
Michelle shook her head as she sat down in a nearby booth. “No, we might find something here.”
“You start feeling worse and were gone.” Wyatt was feeling just fine. Neither of them had any idea why Michelle was feeling bogged down, but she agreed with Wyatt’s suggestion. “Any idea why you were drawn here? Think you used to work here?”
Just as Wyatt asked, a waiter walked over to take their order, showing he recognized neither of them, and walked away toward the kitchen.
“Well, looks like that theory is shot down.” Michelle observed.
Wyatt barely heard her, he was paying more attention to the surroundings. Something felt a little…off. When the waiter looked at them, Wyatt noticed his eyes widen just a hair more than they already were, almost as if he recognized them. He peered over his shoulder and watched as the waiter stood in the doorway to the kitchen and yelled something in Chinese. Suddenly, a movement just over Wyatt’s shoulder caught Michelle’s attention. There
was a person sitting a few booths away, leaning against the wall, not large at all, almost like a little girl, maybe ten years old. She was facing away from Michelle, showing only her jet-black hair. However, seconds later, she began to slowly turn around, with near rigid like movements. Michelle couldn’t take her eyes off of the girl, as though they were glued in one spot. As Michelle began to see the girl’s face, she became even more frightened. The girl had a ghost like complexion and dark sockets where her eyes should have been. Michelle’s heart nearly stopped. The girl brought a claw like hand to her mouth and extended one finger over it. Michelle was nearly paralyzed with fear, she wasn’t even able to utter a sound. Wyatt had lost sight of the waiter and returned his attention to Michelle. His brow furrowed as he followed her gaze but saw nothing. Michelle watched as the girl moved with unnatural like speed, and in a flash was standing next to her.
The girl spoke with hissing drawn out words, “We’ve found you.”
In a split second the girl vanished and the bell over the front door rang as several people walked in, catching Wyatt’s attention. Immediately, he recognized two of them and ducked below the booth wall, pulling Michelle down with him.
“What’s going on?” She asked, snapping out of her trance.
“I think we were followed.” Wyatt replied just above a whisper. “Two of my old friends just walked in. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Sliding out of the booth, the two remained as quiet as could be so as not to attract any unwanted attention. Wyatt peeked over the chest high wall to gain intel into where they were looking, praying the three men wouldn’t walk toward them. Wyatt knew exactly how ruthless they could be. He watched as they began searching the middle of the restaurant and fanned out to both sides. Wyatt ducked back down as one of the men walked to a nearby booth. He motioned for Michelle to move to the end of the row toward the front door.
