Cold Read

by Renee Joiner

  “Of course, he is. But why would he be tied to an FBI case? What is the nature of the investigation?”

  “We are not permitted to disclose that information, I’m afraid. You ask why he is tied to the case? Well, it’s what we hope to find out. We are still making the connections. Time is, however, of the essence. I want you to tell me all you can about Max, including the relationship he had with his mother.” Daniel was persistent. Even though he kept his demeanor professional, Tasia noticed that he had let his interrogative decorum slip.

  Estrella regarded him for a moment before answering. “I get the sense that you already have an inkling of what it was like, don’t you?”

  “I’d rather you confirm suspicions before we run rampant with assumptions.”

  Estrella sighed heavily, closing her eyes. Tasia knew that look. In fact, she was sure she emulated that look during her own late shifts at the hospital. The woman was exhausted. Judging from the dynamic of the people with whom she had just consulted, Tasia could imagine why. “To say there was any kind of relationship—broken, toxic, or even strained—would be a lie. If anyone thought there was a relationship, my mother’s own deluded thinking gave her that perception. There could never be a connection. She was abusive and unspeakably cruel to him. She would lock him up like an animal every time he crossed her. As I grew older, I started to believe she actually looked for angry and punitive reasons. Once she reached that point, she would shut him in the darkness. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for days. She would deprive him of his basic needs; beat him if she wasn’t satisfied. There was never a pattern, though. It would happen sporadically. It was the cruelest thing she could have done—leaving him guessing. Through it, she not only trapped his body but also his mind. He was forever fearful of when her wrath would descend without us knowing.”

  “That’s... horrible,” Tasia admitted, dumbstruck by the details.

  Estrella scoffed, not from amusement but in the reflection of something that only she could have known. “You must be wondering why I’m so open about it. I’ve found that there is no use suppressing the past. Max and I have spent years since then trying to live in denial, without success. Instead, we had to reframe our experiences, accept what had happened, and choose the path where history doesn’t define us.”

  “Did your mother subject you to the same treatment?” Daniel asked.

  “No. Only Max. I never understood why. He often said that he could almost make himself believe that our mother was kind and nurturing when he watched the two of us. For the most part, she was blind to my faults. Naturally, I was the only one that could help him.”

  “What do you mean?” Daniel asked.

  “I helped him to escape. She had locked him up; only this time, it had been for days. I managed to find a key. I brought him food, water, and information. I had a plan, you see. It was desperate—our mother was no fool—but we managed to get him out without her suspecting what had happened. He was 13 then when he went off all alone into the world. I thought that would be the last day that I’d see him. Still, I ask myself how he survived, despite him telling me the story countless times. He found me again, years later, obviously. We reconnected. He had done well and healed. He seemed fine. However, the scars of the past ran far deeper than he imagined.”

  “Is that your professional opinion?” Daniel asked, perhaps insensitively. Estrella didn’t seem to mind as she answered.

  “It’s my opinion as his sister. Ultimately, my objective views as a practitioner are overshadowed by the bias of my emotional attachment. He’d known punishment and neglect for a good chunk of his formative years,” she continued, with an acerbic bite creeping into her tone, “so, of course, there would be a lasting impact throughout his life.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend, merely to understand,” Daniel offered. “Did he ever see your mother again?’

  “No. I am always grateful he never did. She died years ago. Along with it, any burdens of reconciliation. He could move on and be happy—which he did.”

  So the boy on the bike was speaking the truth, Tasia thought. There was nothing left for him but to try and move on if his mother passed. But then, who had been using the house?

  “Estrella,” Daniel started, deliberately ignoring her title to come across as more personal, “we need to find your brother. I believe he is our next lead in this investigation. Do you have an address?”

  Estrella looked hesitant. “I—I do. But, Agent Cordeiro,” she started, folding her hands in front of her chin in an almost pensive gesture, “I must ask you to exercise discretion and respect toward my brother. I say this, both in my professional opinion and as his sister: the nature of your conversation may awaken memories that are best left buried. He is a private person and sometimes even reclusive. His social development was hindered for many years, and that has left permanent scars on his psyche. People, more than anything, have the tendency to upset him when they present him with discomfort. He is still healing, although he has recovered remarkably. Therefore, ask what you must, but only to uncover the clues that you need to save the person you are searching for.”

  That’s strange, Tasia thought. I can’t remember us telling her that we were looking for someone. She could not help but feel that something was amiss.

  Five

  Spell of Endurance

  When they left Estrella Pearce’s office, Tasia’s mind was occupied. She didn’t regard herself as an expert in human behavior, but the exchange had left her thinking. Daniel, on the other hand, was dead set on the next destination. His mood prevented her from getting too lost in reflection.

  They had been given an address, and with it, the first solid lead to Max’s whereabouts. He had become somewhat of an enigma in her mind. She’d never imagined her thoughts to be occupied by a stranger, but his tale brokered immense fascination. A boy trapped for years by his abusive witch of a mother, only to be set free by his sister. It was like a twisted fairytale, two siblings who unwittingly found themselves bound in a Hansel and Gretel archetype.

  Perhaps that was what was so frustrating about the case. No detail seemed to point them any closer to finding Daniel’s sister. Tasia was fully aware of her secretiveness regarding the precipitating factors that led her to become involved in his search, but Daniel wasn’t very forthcoming either. Given, he was FBI, and the case information was, perhaps, confidential. Thus, regardless of their familiarity, Tasia couldn’t expect to be in the know of all the facts. However, it then led her to question why he dragged her along in the first place. She was sure to uncover secrets along the way.

  Daniel wasn’t easing on the acceleration as they drove to their next destination. Nestled somewhere within the quiet neighborhood they swerved into was Maxwell—or Max—Pearce’s home. It was a strange neighborhood for a man in his late twenties to live in. From what she could gather, it was mostly elderly couples that drifted down the walkways, either alone, with companions, or their pets. No children ran around the streets; neither could the rush of cars be heard anywhere close by. It gave her the impression of a popular retirement area. When Tasia caught a glimpse of a few spectral figures to mark the recently departed signs, it confirmed her suspicions.

  It also meant that there were ample death energies left behind. However, in Daniel’s company, she could not be a rusalka. The residual life forces would drift back into the ether, and no tipping of the scales would be done that day. Nature would simply have to take its course.

  Instead, on the doorstep of Max’s address, she was a spectator to her friend’s unraveling sanity when the doorbell remained unanswered. She could see the suspense of waiting eating away at him, and Tasia wasn’t sure how to calm him as he repeatedly tried to get the home owner’s attention.

  She decided to try a different approach, walking along the side of the house and peeking into one of the windows. No curtains or blinds were there to obscure her vision, and she stared into what undoubtedly had to be the now-empty master bedroom. Just as she turned ar
ound to tell Daniel, she noticed something in the garden. Kneeling down, she felt some despondency set in when she pulled a real estate sign from underneath the bushes. The red ‘FOR SALE’ letters were almost mocking in their emblazoned glory.

  Daniel didn’t take it well. “What is it with this fucking family? Do they all just pack up their fucked up lives and disappear without a trace? Jesus. Why the hell would his sister send us here if he didn’t live here anymore?”

  “I have as many questions as you, Dan, trust me. Look, let’s not bury our leads before they’re dead. Estrella gave us his employer’s address, as well. We can still—”

  “I already called Adrian Arroyo. Max hasn’t shown up to work for about a month. Some of the guys at the office also did some digging on the places he used to hang out at. Woodstroke’s baseball stadium, a basement club in Waverley, even the very nature reserve just outside of town where he used to volunteer. It’s like he disappeared!”

  “When did you find all this out?” Tasia asked in surprise.

  “Right before and after our visit to Estrella. My guys have been sending me minute details as they’ve picked them up throughout the day. If anything was a strong lead, they’d call.”

  And they haven’t, she thought, knowing that he hadn’t taken any calls through the day. Their leads really were dead at this point. She observed him as the same thought dawned on him. He paced back and forth, biting his lip as he processed the odds. Behind the face of a man who had seen what he had in his lifetime, she couldn’t even begin to think how tumultuous his thoughts must have been. He looked about ready to punch a hole in the wall, with his tense jaw and the cold fire in his eyes.

  Instead, he did the most unexpected thing. He sat down on the steps up to the house and held his head in his hands. “He must be behind this,” he whispered. “Max must be involved. What if he kills her?”

  “Listen, you’ve been on this beat longer than I have, but even I can tell you that’s a wild accusation. I know it looks pretty hopeless, but—”

  “It doesn’t just look hopeless. It is hopeless. This isn’t an isolated event. Three kidnappings preceded that of my sister. We haven’t managed to find anything on them either?”

  Tasia was stunned. “God, Daniel, from the evidence on your desk, I thought you’d been constructing solid case leads for months.”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know...”

  “Then tell me. Look, I can only help if I know all the facts.”

  He raised his head suddenly, a pleading look evident in his eye. “Your abilities... there must be something you can do. You’re more powerful than you’re letting on. I’m sure of it. Please, Tasia, do something. Anything. We need to swing this sick game in our favor before it’s too late.”

  “Daniel, I—”

  “Please! Something. Anything! Your gift must allow you to tap into someone’s energy or something... to signal in on it to find them. If you can predict someone’s death, then you must know what happens before that and where. Please, just track her. Do this for me. I trust you. I need you to do this!” The desperation had cracked his tough facade, and she couldn’t remember seeing him more vulnerable. How do you tell a man in that state that you cannot give him what he needs?

  She knew she was reckless as she bent down, opening herself to him to feel the weight behind her words. When intent was vested behind their actions, rusalkas could sway a man’s actions by luring them under their influence. She was uncertain what signs Daniel would notice as she looked him in the eye—compassion, care, seduction, or the promise of a bond that wasn’t there. When rusalkas used their power in the way she was about to, men were usually prone to interpret their feelings toward the more extreme polarities. It often led to their demise.

  But for his sister’s sake, she needed to break the mystical law.

  His spirit was ensnared by her will immediately, and the ravaging emotions that played on his face melted away. He hung on her lips as her words rolled forth.

  “What you want, I cannot give. You must understand. I am bound to know only what happens in the end. Whatever decisions I make before then is all that is within my control. All I can give you is time by telling you when the end is imminent. Your sister will not die. Remember that no single vision I had was a premonition of her death. For now, we can affect the course of Fate. I promise we will do all we can.” Perhaps, she thought, if his sister’s life was in danger, then I could revive her with a life that has run its course. It was the last alternative, but it was something she was willing to do.

  He had calmed down, and she found the change heartening. She had no idea what the risks would be as time went on, but it was not important just then.

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “Yes. Look, we have time. The bodies of these other women haven’t been found yet, right? That means their threats are hollow until something drastic occurs to make you believe otherwise. Right now, we need to calm down and take stock of every clue that presents itself to us.”

  A new determination filled him as he stood up. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be,” she answered as she brought herself upright. “So, perhaps the direct trail we have followed yielded more frustration than clues. But, we do know that other trails exist. Three of them—all tied to different people. Each investigation has left something behind to follow. So, let’s find out which breadcrumbs are still left to us.”

  He contemplated her advice for a moment before responding. “Your death precognition... when you touch something that belongs to someone, it only works when they’re still alive, right?”

  “Yes...”

  “The bodies of the other missing victims have not been found. So, it means that they are probably alive, being held hostage somewhere by the kidnapper. Our time frame is getting smaller, and I am certain that the closer we get to the deadline for meeting the kidnapper’s demands. The stronger one of these death premonitions might become.”

  “Well, I cannot call on them willingly, remember? They simply come to me.”

  “So then, why don’t we control how they come to you? By using a personal item...”

  “We already tried that, remember? There was no premonition to be gained for your sister.”

  “I’m not talking about my sister. In some way, I think I believe that he won’t bring harm to her, knowing that we’re related. For now, she is being used as leverage to toy around with me. But the other women... insensitive as this may sound, are ticking time bombs.”

  Tasia believed that she was starting to follow his train of thought. “So, it’s just a matter of time before they might be killed. Which means that any premonition regarding them is more likely.”

  “So,” he started with the gleam of anticipation in his eye, “if you were to touch something that belonged to them, any of them, in the next few hours...”

  “Then I’m certain to get a premonition of their death, and maybe even a vision linked to it.” The plan was another shot in the dark, but they now had a bullet to put in the gun’s barrel compared to a minute ago. Since they were three victims, there also happened to be more than one shot. “One question: how are we going to track down something personal for each of them?”

  “Leave that to me,” he said, smiling. He winked at her and made his way down the steps and to the car.

  She didn’t follow immediately, having been given pause by his reaction. His mood had lifted, and she wished she could attribute it to the renewed sense of hope that he’d been given. However, she knew that it was the inevitable consequence of subjecting him to her glamor. The smile, the wink, the geniality... it was all signs that her spell had been effective. She would not see the consequences immediately. It would develop over time. First, he would be kind, then caring and, in time, amorous. Whatever her purposes had been, she had magically ignited the flame of his desire. Desire would turn into need, need would turn into lust, and lust would turn into obsession.

  Histor
y had paid testament to countless young men who had unknowingly fallen under a rusalka’s spell. Many rusalkas had unintentionally put many young men under it. Rusalkas never dealt well with obsession. When they sensed it, they fled and remained elusive. They would hide, leaving enamored young men looking—looking until the day they died.

  Tasia didn’t mean to cast her spell, but maybe she had done so because Daniel had cast his spell on her. She knew she couldn’t resist him despite the heartache and her increasing infatuation. But, could he resist hers?

  Six

  Bewitched By Memory

  The table in front of her was covered with a miscellany of items. Tasia didn’t understand the internal dynamics by which the FBI operated behind the scenes. Still, she had no qualms in vouching for their efficiency. “Um, Daniel... how did you convince your guys to bring you all of this?”

  “I’ve been around long enough for them to know that my methods are a little unorthodox, yet effective. They don’t really ask questions anymore. Besides, we are running out of time. There’s no real gameplay that seems crazy enough.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, accepting his response. She scanned through the items—photographs—not much use there. Items of clothing—viable options if a woman ever manages to wear everything she hoards in her closet. Jewelry—sentimental and personal, but heirlooms tell a different story than what they’ve owned themselves. And an array of membership cards—though, we all belong to groups, clubs, and societies that we often don’t care a fuck about. Basically, their entire strategy was based on a collection of random shit that may not yield a read on the situation. Yet, Daniel was riding a lot on this to work. Tasia just hoped that she wouldn’t disappoint him.

  “The items have been organized into piles, as you can see. Each is a collection of personal valuables and memorabilia from each one of the three women. Do you think you’ll be able to get something from this?”