Sharp Absence (Sharp Investigations Book 1)

by Kate Anders

  “You were a Boy Scout, weren’t you?” I ask.

  “Why do you ask?” he asks suspiciously.

  “No reason, you just seem like one of those always be prepared, never leave a stone unturned kind of guys,” I explain.

  “I feel like I should feel insulted given the way you just said that, but yes. I was a Boy Scout.”

  “Of course you were.”

  “Alright, alright. If you’re done teasing me, can we get going?” He motions toward the door.

  “After you,” I say with a smirk.

  I don’t think I am able to contain my surprise when we end up back on campus. King’s contact is a student?

  I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Clara is one of the biggest badasses I know and she hasn’t even graduated yet. I’m also about ninety percent sure that King doesn’t have a college degree either and clearly, she knows what she is doing.

  “He’s a researcher,” Will explains.

  “Researcher? Not a student or something?”

  “He’s a full-time university employee, working on a doctorate or something.”

  “Oh. So, he’s not like a TA or something; Clara wouldn’t have had him for class or anything?”

  “He’s definitely not a TA, and I don’t think he knew Clara,” Will clarifies.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I would have thought he would have told King when she explained everything, don’t you think?” he asks.

  “Yeah, that makes sense.” It does make sense. If he knew Clara, of course he would speak up, right? If not, it would be pretty suspicious if someone made a connection to him down the line. “What’s his name?”

  “Michael. Michael Davis.”

  “Ah, a two first names guy.”

  Will chuckles as he pulls his truck into the closest space to the computer science building.

  “Stay there, I’m going to come help you down.” He doesn’t even wait for me to answer before he’s out with the door closed and hustling over to my side of the truck.

  I’m not above sending him a small glare so he knows how much I hate being the broken girl who can’t get out of a car without grunting. But I’ll let him help, because as much as I hate to admit it, this trip is already taking a lot out of me.

  Turns out breathing is really important when it comes to having energy to move around.

  After Will gets me out of the truck, we head into the building, me at a much slower pace than normal and probably at what is considered glacial speed for Will.

  He never complains once.

  He honestly just kind of pretends it isn’t happening. I think he’s trying to let me have my dignity.

  He seriously needs to stop being so fucking likable. I’m never going to get over this crush on him if he keeps this up.

  Once we get inside the building, I take a deep breath. I never would have expected that breathing in the colder, drier air of winter would be so painful on my aching lungs. Sometimes it still feels like I am hanging upside down in that car, being held in place by the seat belt. Not at all comfortable.

  I follow Will as he walks glacially slow for me down a few hallways deep into the building, he seems to know where he is going. I’ve been in this building probably a hundred times over the last couple years, but I always get turned around. The halls all look the same, signage doesn’t seem to be something they believe in, and everyone walks around with their heads down or with headphones in, so it’s impossible to ask for directions. Eventually you just accept you will be lost.

  Not Will though.

  We finally arrive at a room with a sign on the window that says LAB FOUR. Personally, I think the lettering could be bigger.

  Will knocks.

  I had forgotten that some of the labs you need to use your ID to get in or have someone let you in and then you have to sign the sign-in. Apparently, a few years back a group of kids tried to make off with thousands of dollars’ worth of high-end computer equipment. After expulsion, thousands in fines, and a pretty sizable jail sentence, everyone else now has to swipe in.

  Will looks all business while we wait for someone to open the door.

  As much as I want to chat with him about what we are going to ask this guy, everything hurts too much. Primarily breathing. So instead I try to look as determined as Will and less like a hunched over dying person.

  The guy who finally answers the door is the definition of nondescript white guy. He looks like everyone and no one all at once. Not a single distinctive facial feature. Not a graphic tee with a funny saying, not even Chucks with writing on them. Not a name brand, signature scent, or interesting quirk with this guy. Interesting.

  “Michael Davis?” Will inquires.

  “You the PI?” he replies, not really answering the question.

  “So I’m told. King should have told you I was coming.”

  “Come on in.” He opens the door and ushers us in before pointing at the sign-in sheet. “You have to check in.”

  Will bends down to fill in his information and when I start to step forward, he shakes his head.

  “I took care of it,” he assures me with a look.

  I look back at the sign-in sheet, trying to resist the urge to check.

  “No bending,” he whispers, low enough that only I can hear.

  With that, I feel my cheeks start to tingle as they undoubtedly fill up with pink at my embarrassment. Will reaches forward to squeeze my hand ever so quickly before turning to go back to talking to Michael.

  It takes me a few minutes to fully check back into the conversation going on. Will is all business though. He’s already briefly introduced me before moving on to his questions.

  “I know you had previously spoken with King about our investigation but I was hoping you could answer a couple of questions for me as well.” Will broaches the topic. He’s firm but not aggressive.

  “Sure.” Michael shrugs.

  “Great. First, I wanted to see how the decryption was going. I haven’t had a chance to speak with King today so I figured I would ask since I’m already here.” Lowball, easy question. Good strategy.

  “Oh yeah, sure, of course. It’s really fascinating actually. We haven’t been able to open anything yet, but definitely been making some progress. The coding and the math are a thing of beauty. King tells me an undergrad here wrote it.” He looks excited and super animated when he brings up Clara. “Man, I want to meet this girl. I was actually going to show it to one of the professors here, she would be great to have on our team.” He looks over at me and then back at Will. “I would have cleared it with King first, of course.”

  “So you didn’t know Clara?” I ask.

  “No, King showed me a photo, and she looks familiar, but honestly with the number of people who are in and out of these labs, I’m not surprised she looks familiar.” He explains.

  “Well, as you know, Clara is one of several women who have gone missing in the last couple of years.” Will pauses, and I look over at Michael to see his reaction. He seems serious. Not shifty. Just attentive. “Kenzie here is Clara’s roommate, and there have been some incidents lately, so I’m just going around checking out everyone with any information about the investigation. Just trying to knock possibilities off the list.”

  Will is pretty affable about the whole thing. In fact, he didn’t even ask a question. Just a suggestion.

  “Oh totally, totally. Well, I’ve only spoken with King about it, no one else. I’ve basically been living in this lab for the past week, so I haven’t really had much of a chance to venture out into the land of the living,” he chuckles. I believe him. I’m not sure why, but he just doesn’t raise any alarm bells.

  “Okay, great. Do you think it’s possible anyone overheard you and King speaking?” Will asks next. A question without any blame. Interesting.

  Michael pauses to think about it.

  “I’m sure it’s possible. Truthfully, when I’m in here, the whole world kind of fades out, I don’t really pay
attention to who else is here. You need a key card to swipe in or you have to sign in on the sheet, so I always just assume if you are in here, you’re supposed to be.”

  “I’ve worked with King more than a few times. I’m very familiar with the zoning out,” Will says on a smile. Michael smiles back.

  They exchange a few more pleasantries while I kind of look around the room. Without moving at all, of course. There are a lot of workstations. Some of them are clearly for singles, some of them are designed for what looks like more of a team approach. There are even some areas with whiteboards and tables to spread out on. I could see how this place would get busy and someone could easily overhear what other people are working on.

  “Well, thank you for your time.” Will starts to get ready to leave.

  “Yeah, no problem. I’ll have some time tonight, so I’ll be working on that file later.” He tells Will.

  “Well, good luck. I think everyone is interested in what’s on there,” Will responds.

  And with that, Will motions for me to head toward the door.

  I’m exhausted.

  I don’t know how. I’m literally just standing there trying to follow a conversation. But the reality is my body is beat the fuck up.

  As soon as we are outside the lab and into the hallway, Will’s face shifts to one of concern.

  “You holding up okay?”

  “Yeah,” I lie.

  “I was going to run over to the admin office and see if I can get a copy of all the entry swipes the last three days…” He hesitates. “But you look like you need a break.”

  “I’m fine, Will, really.” More lies.

  “Kenzie.”

  I’m starting to sweat. The energy it is taking to keep me upright and engaged is way more than I was prepared for. I just need to cool down and then I’ll be right back on and ready to go.

  “I just need some fresh air. You can walk me out to the benches right outside the building and I can sit and wait for you so you can get the information,” I offer.

  He looks skeptical.

  And worried.

  “We can just go home and I can get King to get it later,” he suggests, giving me an out.

  “No really, it’s fine. I don’t mind waiting, really.” I really don’t want to be the giant baby here, especially after I basically demanded to come along for the ride.

  Will finally nods his agreement and we start walking. Even so, I can tell he doesn’t feel great about it.

  He needs a distraction.

  “He seemed genuine,” I say.

  Will nods.

  “He didn’t set off any of my spidey senses,” I joke.

  “Yeah, me either. King vets the people she works with anyway, it was always going to be a long shot.”

  “But you think maybe someone overheard?”

  “I think no one in there pays any attention to anyone else, so yeah.”

  “Hence the logs?”

  “There isn’t really going to be much to do with them if we get them, but maybe we can cross people on or off the list once we have some names to work with,” Will explains.

  I think he’s just looking for some way to be productive and not feel helpless in this situation. I get the feeling.

  Before I know it, we are outside and Will is helping me to sit on the bench. The cool air against my skin already feels better. Not great on my lungs, but at this point, the overheating is taking priority.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Will asks with a worried expression.

  “I’m sure,” I assure him.

  “You’ll stay right here? No going anywhere?” He’s looking around the building, seemingly cataloging everyone outside.

  “I promise. Right here. No further,” I say with a smile.

  Will shakes his head. “Be right back,” he says before he hustles back into the building.

  Sitting on the bench, I can’t help but watch all the students just going about their lives. Going to class. Stopping by the lab to work on a project. Heading to a study group or for office hours. How mundane it all is. How for granted everyone takes it.

  It’s Friday afternoon and people are all leaving the building for the day, but not Clara. Clara would still be in one of the labs working on her latest problem. Sometimes I had to boot her out of here. Remind her to eat and sleep. Melancholy floods my system as the crowds start the thin as people head out for the day.

  I was spending so much time in my head and watching the abstract students going about their lives that it never even occurred to me to look a little closer to home.

  I never noticed him watching. I never felt the unease tingle on the back of my neck to tell me someone was watching. And as the sun started to get lower, I didn’t notice when he started moving closer.

  In fact, it wouldn’t be until he was right next to me that I even noticed him at all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “IMMIGRANT SONG” BY TRENT REZNOR, ATTICUS ROSS, KAREN O

  I felt someone sit down next to me on the bench. At first, I didn’t think anything of it. I’ve been on this campus for four years, and outside of my recent brush with death, I’ve always felt so comfortable here. People approach you all the time. Do you know where x building is? Here’s this flyer for a frat party on Friday night. Do you want to sign my petition to get the school to adopt more green initiatives? There is always something.

  Five seconds after they sat down, though, I knew something was wrong.

  Very wrong.

  “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” a man’s voice says, coming from my left side.

  The chill that ran down my spine was my strongest one yet since this whole thing started. Without even realizing I was doing it, I turned my head to get a look at him.

  “Don’t look at me,” he says with an unmasked tint of malice.

  I was going to ignore the directive.

  As far as I was concerned, we were out in public.

  Sure, the sun had begun to set and darkness was starting to take off. The student body population had since died down to a drizzle, and those students that were left were all in a hurry to get where they were going. It was Friday afternoon, and the weather was about to shift back down in temperature.

  Either way, I was still in public, so while this guy was definitely giving me the creeps, I still felt like I had a good chance at being okay.

  Until I felt something cold touch my skin.

  I may have come outside to cool down, but my body was frozen now.

  Every possible scenario began running through my head.

  Was it a knife?

  Or was it a gun?

  If I made enough of a scene, would he still take a shot at me before making a run for it?

  If I went along with what he wants would I end up another name on the missing list until someone discovers my body at some later date?

  Fear has taken hold, so I listen and stop trying to get a good look at him. All I know so far is white male, college age, and I think brown hair.

  “That’s it, now look ahead.” He spoke to me the way shitty dog owners speak to their dog. Condescending and slowly. Jack ass.

  I listen.

  “You really just don’t know when to stop, do you?”

  I’m not sure if he really wants me to answer, so I just sit quietly. One of the hardest things I have ever done. Keep my mouth shut. I want to scream at this guy. I want to beat the crap out of this guy. But until I know what is in his hand, I am going to play this game.

  “You know you aren’t the only one who just couldn’t help herself.” He pauses, almost like he was doing it for added drama. “Clara certainly couldn’t leave well enough alone either,” he whispers.

  I feel my body jerk into complete stillness.

  Something that apparently greatly amuses him since he chuckles afterward.

  “Look at you, even after everything, you come all the way out here to keep poking around, not caring that you look like some battered spouse.
I would have thought the other night would have taught you a lesson. I let you live and this is how you repay me.”

  “Fuck you.” I couldn’t help myself.

  “Ah ah ah. That’s no way to talk to the guy who is going to give you everything you wanted.”

  Confusion floods my body. I want to argue, I want to question him. But the metal object that was once just resting against my side, is now pushing against the skin. I can feel my skin pushing inward, enough for pressure, but not enough to break the skin.

  “I thought you wanted to see Clara again. That’s what all this was about, right?” he taunted me with his singsong speech pattern. “Well, I’m about to make all your dreams come true.”

  “Where is she?” I demand.

  “You’re about to find out,” he replies as he shoves the object further into my side.

  Not a knife.

  No way it’s a knife. It would have definitely already cut through my clothing and for sure broken some skin by now.

  It’s got to be a gun.

  I file the information away while still trying to come up with a plan.

  The more information I can get out of him, the better.

  How to do that without ending up as one of his victims, however, is another story entirely.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen next. You are going to get up. Slowly. We are going to walk to the parking lot. You are not going to call any attention to yourself. I’m sure you can guess what’s going to happen if you decide not to comply.” He pushes the gun harder into my side.

  I count my blessings he is pushing on the left side and not the right where most of the injured ribs are. If he was on the other side, there is no way I wouldn’t be screaming by now.

  “I think we both know you are going to use that whether I come with you or not, so why would you think I’m going to go with you?” I retort.

  “Because I have something that you want.”

  “Prove it,” I demand.

  He laughs. Just straight up laughs. It’s beyond unnerving. Every cell in my body is freaking out, and my eyes keep darting to the door to the building, willing Will to walk through the doors and find me. The door doesn’t open. And I just sit in silence while I wait for his Joker laugh to be over.