by Jill Cooper
“I wanted to see how things were. Everything go okay this morning?”
I lean my head back in the elevator and my finger hovers over the ground floor button. “Umm-hmm. Things have taken a…turn since then, but I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
“You sure?” There are concern and disbelief laced together in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m just headed over to the widow’s now. I want to drop everything off so I can chock this whole thing up into the closed file. Move on to something else, you know?”
“So, no time to grab some lunch then, huh? Well, that’s all right. How about tonight some Chinese noodles. I’ll meet you at that little place you like so much over by the Garden.”
It sounds like just what I need. “I’d love that. Thanks, Jeff. For always taking care of me. You’re just perfect.”
“Well someone has to. Love you, Cass. Try to take it easy the rest of the day. And be careful.”
“I will.” My voice is soft as the call fades and I step out of the elevator on the ground floor. Time to catch the subway and head over to the Jacksons’ home. If I’m lucky, maybe I can get enough information to piece this thing together before dinner.
****
On the subway, a call comes in on my link, but when I see it’s my captain, I ignore it. I slide my finger across the busy option and dump him into voicemail. A minute later, I’m notified I have a new message waiting, but I don’t listen.
If I don’t listen, I don’t know. And if I don’t know, I can still go about my business, but in the morning, there’ll be hell to pay. I guess that will just be future Cassidy’s problem.
Off the subway, I head down the cobblestone sidewalk that lines one side of the Backbay roads. In the distance, I can see the old Prudential Tower, which was one a business center and shopping plaza. At the very top, you can see the entire city. Now it’s been claimed by Rewind and turned into a giant time travel antenna, used to funnel power and information into the heart of Rewind.
Most people who live in the Backbay these days have something to do with Rewind. What was once businesses, coffee shops, and quirky little places to eat, have all been replaced by power suits. Over the last fifty years, Rewind has been growing. Expanding. Its reach is unstoppable and it still hasn’t slowed.
It was swallowing more of the city. More of the world.
I walk down a long street, past the suits and Rewind’s offices. I keep going, past what Rewind has claimed for its own to get to the ghettos of Boston. It’s not something I like to admit even exists, no one does. But for every business space, small or otherwise, that Rewind has claimed. another family was put out of a job.
The old brownstones are clustered together on Commonwealth Avenue. Once they were glorious, prime real estate.
A melding of old and new.
The brownstones that were once a symbol of prosperity and riches have now been gutted and turned into small apartments. I take the steps two at a time and ring the button for apartment 2A at 240 Commonwealth Avenue.
It only takes a moment for the door to open. Katie Jackson is a small woman in a blue floral dress and a white cardigan wrapped around her simple frame. The lines on her face are sunken and her brown hair is cut short, just above her shoulders. The life and spirit that was evident in the video recordings of her marriage, of her dancing in the park, are gone.
“Mrs. Jackson, I wanted to extend my sympathies. I’m—.”
“I know who you are.” Her voice is listless and her eyes are moist, lined red as if she’s been crying a long time. She sucks on her bottom lip as her eyes scanthe box in my hand. “Those were…my Reynold’s?” The question isn’t completed before she starts to break down.
I step forward and put my arm around her. I’m surprised at how frail she is. Rail thin, her bones feel as if they could snap in my hands. “Let me come in and I can help you with his things. I’ll put some tea on for you if you’ll let me.”
Katie nods and she steps back, holding the door open.
The hallway into the apartment is cold. A stairwell which once led to the upstairs bathroom and bedrooms, is still there. Now it leads to tiny apartments in which everyone is crammed together like sardines in a can.
I follow her into the small apartment. It’s a cramped one-room apartment but still light and airy. There are white roses on the kitchen table in an old glass vase. The flowers are just like the ones that Reynold had when I arrested him.
Katie turns the water on in the sink and fills an old blue teakettle. The sunlight from the window illuminates her face and her despair is even more evident. I take the kettle from her and put it on the stove. “Sit, Mrs. Jackson. Please.”
She nods and sits down, playing with the hem of the simple white tablecloth and barely looks at the box I set down. Behind her is a small living room area. A sofa and a television with little else in the way of entertainment, but the walls are littered with wedding photos.
“I didn’t expect you to be so nice,” Katie says as I sit across from her. “I know what happened isn’t your fault, but it’s easier to hate you.” Her eyes return to her lap.
I’ve heard it before. Crossing my ankles, I gather my thoughts. “Have you lived here long?”
“No,” Katie admits, with a deep breath that lifts her chest. “We left Union Square about six months ago for here.”
Union Square? Cambridge, where the middle-class lived. “Did Reynold lose his job?” If he did, that could explain why he would kill his wife.
But Katie shook his head. “No, but he wanted to move into the city. He wanted this building, but I don’t know why. I think it had something to do with his work. He was usually
tight-lipped about it, so I didn’t really pry. I know it’s small, but it’s not that bad. I kind of grew to like it here.” Her eyes brim with tears. “At least we were together.”
The kettle tweets and I get up to make the tea. My mind is swirling with ideas, questions, and getting the cup of tea ready allows me to process my thoughts quietly, without making small talk. Grabbing a pink and white mug from the cabinet, I see an array of orange pill bottles with white lids. One of the labels is facing forward and there’s a clear K to the first name.
It darkens my heart to know she’s sick, but I put on a brave face and place the steaming tea in front of Katie. She grabs the string for the tea bag and bobs it up and down, a faraway look on her face.
“And what did Reynold do for work?” I slide my seat into the table and lean on my elbows. “Did he work nearby?”
“He was a janitor.” Katie blew on her tea to cool it off. “During the day anyway. At night, he wrote books. This time what he was working on, I’m not really sure. He was secretive about it, but giddy…in his own way. He said he found a piece of the puzzle. One that was going to crack the plot wide open.”
“So fiction?”
Katie nods. “Most of the time. Sometimes he wrote small articles here and there. To make ends meet. I haven’t been able to work in a while. And now that he’s gone…” Her voice trails off and she plays with the small gold chain hanging around her neck.
“I don’t even know how to feel about him,” Katie says, breaking the small silence between us. “I saw the videos. It didn’t…didn’t seem like him at all.” She wraps her hands around the teacup as if to warm herself.
She needs me to say something. Anything. The answers we were trained to give come easily as I try to disengage myself from my emotions. “I’ve been doing this for a few years, Mrs. Jackson. For me, it never gets easier. I’m sure in your situation, it’s worse. And I’m sorry for your suffering. I wish there was something I could say or do to make it easier on you. But you have your memories. Your good times.”
“And that makes it worse.” Katie wraps her sweater around her body tighter. “Tonight would be the night it happens and I…this is going to sound so stupid.”
I lean forward. “You can tell me. I excel at stupid, Mrs. Jackson.”
Katie’s lips t
urn down as if she’s tasted something sour. “I’m looking in my freezer this morning to decide what I want for dinner. And…well, there’s no fish.”
Fish. It keeps coming back to the fish.
When I don’t say anything, she continues. “I know that maybe I never did. Maybe I went to the market, maybe I decided at the last minute to buy fish even though we’re on a tight budget. Maybe I was trying to make things special. Maybe there was a sale.” Katie shakes her head and the pain she’s in, the way she’s torturing herself kills me.
I reach across the table and squeeze her hand.
She squeezes it back. “I know it’s not really about the fish. It was something else. Maybe he would have killed me even if I made his favorite meatloaf.” Her eyelids shutter as she squeezes them tight. “But I’ll never know. I’ll never get to ask him why because he’s gone.” She picks up a tissue and cries into it.
“He’s gone and I’ll never know why, Officer Winters.”
She was robbed of that final good-bye. That closure that all would-be murder victims deserve. My cheeks burn hot as I think about it, so I try not to.
“I’m sorry.” My mouth is dry. I feel like I shouldn’t have come. I’m just making it harder on her. I’m not sure I’ve even found out enough about Reynold to warrant that. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
Katie shakes her head no. “You’ve done enough. Thank you, for sitting with me. It’s very kind of you.”
As I stand, I ask her a question. “Did your husband use a passcode for anything? A locker downtown? Or…”
“Only his computer.” She points over toward the older model, holo projection screen where a USB stick computer would fit, but I don’t see anything. Katie reads my expression and gives a shrug. “They came and took it. Said it was evidence.”
Evidence? “The police?” I straighten up.
Katie shakes her head. “He said he was a lawyer. But he had a warrant so I just gave it to him.”
My chest is tight as I turn to leave her apartment. My eyes gaze upward at the doorframe, at the green shining light of the Rewind cameras.
If someone was there. If someone took it…
I’m going to be able to find out who and why.
I just hope I can find them before they find me.
****
I go into the heart of Rewind because I don’t want to risk going to the precinct and running into the captain. He’s already left me another message, which I willfully ignore. I can’t get away with it much longer, maybe until the morning.
If I’m lucky.
The Prudential Tower, or as locals call it the ‘Pru’, is Rewind Headquarters and has been for twenty years. The two old escalators that used to lead up to the shopping areas are guarded by Rewind security. I flash my badge and then scan myself into the system. Passing the checkpoint is easy and I don’t even need an excuse to be here.
But someone might ask questions, so I run up the escalator to get started. Upstairs, the old shopping areas have been turned into offices and computer terminal stations. It’s crawling with people, a lot of whom know me. I keep my head straight ahead and walk against the crowd and when I think someone might say something to me, I pick up the pace.
I turn right near the old Omni Theater and up a set of stairs. At the double set of doors, a guard is standing watch. I toss my hair back and approach him with my shoulders square and even. “Officer.”
He scans my badge. “Nature of your business, Officer Winters?”
“Follow-up on a case. For the testimony.”
His eyes study mine then settle into a nice glare. “Highly irregular.”
“Highly irregular case. Mr. Daniels has my back if you want to call him to him.” I’m not sure I’ve ever tried such a high-stakes bluff right off the bat, but no one ever wants to bother Xavier, especially about me.
I’m hoping my risk will pay off.
And it does.
The officer pushes a button and the door buzzes open. “You have ten minutes, Officer Winters and then I’m coming in after you.”
I smile my thanks and step inside.
The room is row and row of servers, but I hurry along to one of the communication stations. There are a few other officers there, observing and recording data, but that’s their job. I’m a patrol officer.
I have no reason to be there. The sooner I can get what I need and get out, the better it will be for my career and me.
Typing on the computer, I bring up the date, time, and location I’m looking for. I don’t know exactly when the lawyer, if he was who he said he was, arrives at the Jacksons’ home, so I start at breakfast and fast forward.
When Katie gets up to answer the door, I slow down to speed x2. She leaves the apartment and comes back with a visitor. It’s a man all right in a finely pressed suit and his back is to the camera.
He shows Katie a piece of paper and she unfolds it. Her face falls and then the man turns toward the camera. My heart quickens and I can’t draw breath and I freeze the frame.
“Not possible,” I whisper, almost breathless and zoom in.
But it is possible. It is completely possible because I am staring at Xavier Daniels’s personal attorney.
Jeff. My Jeff. The time stamp says he was there shortly before he called me.
I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know what to think, but I copy the video stream onto my link. Closing all the windows and files, I wipe away any trace I was there using the terminal. I push the chair in and start back toward the front.
But my legs are wobbly. I’m walking on air and I don’t know what I should feel, but right now, I feel betrayed.
Small.
I pull the door open and step outside. The officer eyes me but doesn’t say anything. “Thanks, Officer.” My voice sounds larger than I feel as I turn the corner and bump straight into him.
Xavier.
“Mr. Daniels.” I huff a laugh and tuck my hair behind my ears. How much trouble am I in now?
His grin doesn’t reach his eyes. “Why don’t you come with me?”
The way he says it, I know I don’t have a choice. “Yes, Sir.”
8: Future: Cassidy
His office is up near the top floor and has a panoramic view of the city. Even his desk is sweeping in size and scope. The walls adjacent to the windows are lined with certificates and awards.
We sit away from his desk on the blue sofa that wraps around the rear wall. On the coffee table in front of us is a tray for cream and sugar. I balance on my lap, is a napkin, and biscotti, in my hand is white teacup.
It’s all nice. Lovely. But I feel as if I’m slowly being led to my execution.
“Thanks for coming to chat. Getting older reminds you that it’s important to check in with family and friends once in a while.” Xavier sips his tea and his handshakes from old age. Although he is no longer the best technician Rewind had, his brain is still sharp.
I can’t afford to underestimate him if he’s involved in whatever is going on with Reynold Jackson. As an officer, I’m taught not to jump to conclusions, but so far, all evidence I’ve seen somehow hovers around him. So, while I can’t prove it, I’m on edge. I know which direction I’m leaning.
“It’s my pleasure.” I sip my tea and put down the cup on the coffee table. “Feeling okay?”
“For an old man, yes.” Xavier’s face is relaxed and set in a pleasant neutral expression. “And you? How’s your grandma fairing at the old age home?”
“Pretty good. I see every Sunday for a few hours.”
Xavier nods. “You’ll have to be sure to tell her I said hello. We go way back. Once you reach my age, memories are all you have.”
I was sure of that.
“I’m sure you suspect this is more than a social call.” Xavier studies me as he says it and I try to remain neutral.
Earnest.
“I suspected as much, but I don’t know what it’s about. You always do serve the best tea.”
He laugh
s and wipes his hands on his pants. “Judge Thompson called me. I know about your…altercation in the courthouse. We can’t have an outburst like that, Cass. No matter how emotional or hot you’re running.”
I duck my head down. “Yes, Sir.”
“You know if it was anyone but you, we wouldn’t even be having this discussion. He would have had you on leave or worse, stripped of your badge. We can’t let our detractors see the system fighting itself.”
“I understand. I’m sorry. And thank you. For saving my badge, Sir.”
Xavier nods and his eyes glimmer. “Think nothing of it. You’re as important to Rewind as you are to me. One of these days we’ll figure out why your brain is the way it is. Why we can’t read you. I hope until then, we can count on you to give your full support.”
“I love the system. I will never do anything but support it. Order is important, I know that.”
Xavier slaps my knee. “Good. So now if you could tell me why you’re visiting Reynold’s widow and snooping around in the video records archives we could consider this meeting a success.”
My face falls and my heart skips a beat. “Just…satisfying my own morbid curiosity, I guess. Trying to figure out what makes such a mild-manned guy like that kill his wife.”
Inside I’m screaming to look away or to pick up my tea and fiddle with it. Do anything to get away from his eyes, but Xavier’s glare bears down on me—stripping the layers off my soul so he can figure me out. If I’m lying or not.
Finally, the corners of his mouth tug up. “Did it help? Is your curiosity sated?”
I shake my head. “Didn’t help, Sir. Never does. I’m still left with a good man who just snapped. He killed his wife over fish. There’s no answer to it, not one that’ll make me feel any better.”
“And that’s why you’re best of the best, Cass. That desire to know, understand. Your emotions…” he shakes his head. “They can’t get the better of you again. Do you hear me?”
I suck in my bottom lip. “I hear you.”
