The Imaginary (The Imago Trilogy Book 2)

by J. J. Stone

  “You can open,” Sakima called to him.

  For a moment, Andrew thought Sakima had actually taken him to another building. The new room was pristine, almost clinical, and massive. Everything was white: floor, walls, ceiling. The overhead lights seared into the bleached room, casting an ethereal glow. As Andrew took his first cautious steps toward Sakima, he noticed the walls were covered with neat clusters of paper and pictures. Andrew detoured toward one grouping to inspect it. A headshot with a few articles tacked underneath it, finished off with a thick folder tucked into a file hanging directly beneath it. Above the headshot was a name with another name in quotations beneath.

  “John Klinton? Isn’t that the guy from Seattle?” Andrew asked, his eyes trailing to the alternate name. “Gary Ridgway?”

  “More widely known as ‘Green River Killer,’” Sakima replied. “And yes, John was in Seattle.”

  Andrew scanned the length of the wall. “So, all these people are … with you?”

  A mix between pride and possessiveness overtook Sakima’s face. “Every one of them was in your place at some point. Looking to step out of their own shadows and into their true identities.”

  Andrew nodded and turned to watch Sakima walk to a desk in the center of the room. He took a seat behind the desk, pulled open a laptop and tapped away as Andrew carefully approached. Andrew paused before the desk, still scanning the room. There had to be at least a dozen names and faces lining the room.

  Smiling, Sakima clapped his hands together and sighed. He turned the laptop to Andrew and tilted the screen so he could see from his vantage point. “Meet your predecessor.”

  The face of Richard Chase gazed up at Andrew. For a moment Andrew was speechless. He had studied this man for months. He truly felt a connection to him far beyond their shared vampiric tendencies. To see that Sakima had paired them was confirmation enough for Andrew. A wide grin broke across Andrew’s face. “He’s fascinated me for years.” Then confusion set in. “What do you mean by predecessor?”

  “When someone comes to me and begins the process, I match them up with someone from the past with whom they can easily identify. Someone who I feel can help them truly evolve into the person they were meant to be. Whether you choose to completely follow your predecessor’s actions or modify some of their methods to your own idea is completely up to you. This is your process, your revelation. I can only give you the tools you need to succeed. What you do with them is what will make this experience a triumph or a failure.”

  “Who’s yours? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  The cordial smile on Sakima’s face slid away and was replaced by something dark. “That’s not something I share.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to prod,” Andrew said quickly. He pointed to the laptop. “So, this is a secret then? You and I are the only ones who know who my predecessor is?”

  “That’s your decision.”

  Andrew nodded and squared his shoulders. “What’s the next step?”

  CHAPTER 4

  The November air had grown noticeably crisper in the twenty minutes that Ada had been in the grocery store. As she walked through the parted automatic doors and into the brisk dusk, she wished she’d had the foresight to zip up her coat before beginning her journey across the parking lot. The store was packed for a Tuesday night, and Ada had been forced to park out in the boonies. It’s twenty seconds. Tops. You’ll live, Ada told herself.

  Her boots clicked against the crackled asphalt of the parking lot as she made a shivering beeline for her lonely little car at the far end of the parking lot. The wind picked up and blew her loose chestnut hair across her face. She groaned and whipped her head a few times to clear her vision. When she arrived at her car, Ada shifted all of her grocery bags to one hand and fished her key fob out of her coat pocket. She clicked it twice and her car’s lights flicked on.

  Ada opened the trunk and relieved her aching arms of their cargo. She looked down at the copious amounts of staple groceries and couldn’t help but be ashamed of herself. Between her Chicago trip a month prior and the bustle of school schedules before finals in December, Ada hardly had a chance to breathe, let alone make a trip to the grocery store. When she found herself ordering takeout for the fifth night in a row, she decided it was time to make the trek.

  She slammed the trunk shut and zipped up her jacket just as another biting wind gust swept through the parking lot. Ada jerked her car door open and slipped inside, managing to shut out most of the cold howl. She jammed her key into the ignition and her car purred to life and the heat came on. As the headlights illuminated the privacy fence directly in front of her, a flapping piece of paper wedged under her windshield wiper caught her attention. It was flailing around pathetically in the wind.

  For a second Ada considered leaving the paper and just driving off. It was probably an ad for a new dry cleaner or something. Hardly worth leaving the warmth of the car.

  The street light directly above her car flickered to life and the paper became more transparent, revealing trim handwriting. Too curious, she opened the door, snatched the paper, and shut herself back in the car. She placed her hands in front of the heater vent for a moment then unfolded the paper.

  She read the first line and then froze. The paper fluttered down to her lap as she stared at it, like she was expecting it to sprout teeth and begin gnawing her leg. A few seconds went by before she remembered to breathe again. She inhaled sharply and carefully picked up the paper.

  I see that you’ve decided to continue lending a helping hand to the illustrious BAU and its valiant lead agent. Not sure what your father would think, but at least you’re immersing yourself in a world not unlike what he would call home. Keep up the good work, Professor.

  - Sakima

  Even though she knew it was a futile move, Ada quickly scanned the parking lot in her mirrors. The only thing she could feel was an overwhelming wave of violation. Whoever this Sakima was, he had been at her car. He knew which car was hers. Her mind rewound through her day. She fought to remember anyone that had seemed out of the ordinary. No one came to mind.

  She glanced at her phone, still sitting where she had flung it on the passenger seat earlier. Every fiber in her told her to call James. Then her hesitant side kicked in. What could he do? It was a letter. Nothing in either of the letters that she had received seemed overtly threatening. There were no clues, nothing the FBI could benefit from. If anything, this was just a person with a fantasy complex about a college professor and the FBI.

  Her mind made up, Ada folded the letter and slid it inside her purse. If the opportunity presented itself, she would let the FBI know. She repeated this thought a few times to convince herself then threw her car into reverse and peeled out of her parking space.

  ——

  A reverberating slam echoed through the otherwise silent BAU offices. Brenda jumped out of her dazed stupor and glanced up from her computer screen. She turned toward the source of the sound and caught a fuming James Deacon stomping down the hall toward the break room. Interest piqued, Brenda glanced around the room at the other desks. Dade had his headphones in, tapping out a report in time with whatever he was listening to. Janice was glaring at her computer screen, a pen clenched between her teeth. Apparently, Brenda was the only one who had noticed their leader’s outburst.

  Brenda waited a few seconds then pushed her chair away from her desk and grabbed her coffee mug. She needed to have a plausible reason to head to the break room other than to spy on her boss. She left the BAU office space and trotted down the hallway.

  When Brenda arrived at the doorway of the break room, she inwardly cursed when she saw that James was the only other person in the room. He was standing in front of a vending machine, his forehead pressed against his arm as it rested against the glass. The machine was beeping at him to make a selection.

  Brenda stepp
ed from the hall carpet onto the tile of the break room and her heels loudly announced her arrival. The sudden noise made James quickly straighten and whip his head toward her.

  “Time for another coffee dose,” Brenda joked as she waved her mug at him. She strode to the coffeemaker and blindly selected a coffee pod from a drawer.

  The vending machine beeped as James put in his selection. Whatever he picked slammed down into the tray. Brenda put her cup under the coffeemaker’s spout and pressed the brew button. She collected her wits and casually turned back toward James and leaned back against the counter as the coffee began drizzling into her cup.

  James shook a triple-strength energy drink and carefully popped the tab. He quietly chugged a few gulps and rubbed his forearm across his brow as he came up for air. Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the room, the dark circles and bags under his eyes were worryingly vivid. Brenda also couldn’t help but note that his clothes were way too creased for a man who always made a point of looking polished. Brenda wondered when he had last left the building.

  James cleared his throat and Brenda realized she was staring openly at him. The coffeemaker chimed behind her, giving her the perfect excuse to turn away.

  “Have you heard anything from the Chicago team?” James asked her in between gulps of his drink.

  Brenda shook her head as she stirred cream and sugar into her mug. “Dade mentioned something about giving them a call before he left tonight.”

  “OK,” James sighed. Brenda heard the can crunch in his fist and then clatter into the recycling bin.

  She turned with her mug clutched carefully in her hands. James was standing in the middle of the room, his eyes planted on the floor, obviously worlds away. Brenda decided to push. “Is everything all right?”

  James blinked but still didn’t move. “If we can’t find a link between Chicago and Seattle in the next week, we’re getting pulled from the case. Everything will be turned over to the local police departments.”

  “I know the team and I made a point of clearly tying the two cases together in our reports,” Brenda shot back.

  James finally turned his head toward her and shrugged. “Reports are just words. Words can only progress an investigation so far. The higher-ups want … need evidence.”

  Brenda masked a muddled string of curses with a sip of coffee. “Like Ada said, we need to find a notebook. That’s one of the best links we have between the two cases.”

  “Well, Chicago PD has a whole house to dig through. I knew they wouldn’t find anything right away,” James said. “Still, I didn’t expect it to take almost a month.”

  A pang of pity hit Brenda. James was truly worn down, and Brenda couldn’t recall a time where he’d ever let himself get to this point. “When was the last time you went home?” she heard herself ask before she could hold back the question.

  James chuckled softly and ran his hands through his hair. “Is it that obvious?” He ran a hand over his face and Brenda could hear the scrape of the stubble against his fingers from across the room. “I tend to get a little too focused sometimes.”

  A clamber of ardent footsteps crescendoed toward the break room. Janice appeared in the doorway and leaned against it, visibly peeved. “You said you would come by my desk after you got done with your conference call,” she snapped at James.

  “I’m here now,” James bit right back. “What?”

  Brenda took more than a little satisfaction at the flash of hurt that brushed across Janice’s features at James’s clipped response.

  The analyst tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms defensively. “I’ve been screening cases all day, and I think I have another cult case.”

  James visibly perked up. “Where?”

  “California. Bodies are turning up drained of most of their blood.”

  “What makes that a cult case?” Brenda asked and was met with an icy glare from the analyst.

  “Most of the bodies are missing organs. And the bodies are drained before the organs are taken.” Janice made a show of pinching the bridge of her nose, presumably to ward off a flaming migraine or some such ailment. “I’ve been researching all day and I think our killer is taking cues from Richard Chase.”

  “The vampiric killer from the seventies?” Brenda stifled her disgusted grimace.

  Janice nodded and both women looked to James. He chewed at the inside of his bottom lip, hands planted on his hips. After a few moments, he nodded once and turned to Brenda. “Call Ada. Tell her to meet us in California. Get all the info you need from Janice. Then tell the team we’re flying out within the hour.”

  Brenda nodded and watched James leave the room, brushing by Janice without a word. There was a flash of fury on Janice’s face, and Brenda wondered if the anger was a result of James’s diss or the fact that Ada was once again being called in to help.

  ——

  Ada dumped the giant bag of dog food off of her shoulder and onto the garage floor. Tiny came up behind her and nudged the bag with his nose, his tail wagging.

  “One of these days that thing is going to break my shoulder,” Ada said, gasping a little. She frowned at Tiny, who was now planted before the bag. “Do you even appreciate what I do for you?”

  Ada’s phone went off from back in the kitchen, the ringtone echoing in the garage. Ada groaned and trudged back into the house. She got to her phone and answered the call just before it went voicemail.

  “It’s Brenda. Catch you at a bad time?” The agent sounded a little out of breath.

  “Depends on what this is about.” Ada kicked off her shoes and wandered into her living room. She plopped down on the couch and let herself sink in to the leather.

  “I don’t really have a lot of time to talk, so I’m going to make this quick.” Something thudded to the floor and Brenda grunted. “How soon can you get to California?”

  Ada let out a hearty laugh. “Oh sure, I’ll just get in my car now, be there by morning.”

  There was a slight pause. “Really?” The sincerity in Brenda’s tone sobered Ada back to reality.

  “Wait,” Ada sat up, “you’re serious?”

  A zipper quickly shut. “Packing my bag as we speak. Janice thinks she’s found another cult case, so Deacon is getting us all on a plane in the next hour.”

  “Brenda …”

  The agent let out a sigh that cackled loudly through the phone speaker. “Ada, I know. I’m sorry. Finals week is coming up soon, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Ada snorted. She almost brought up her dean’s veiled threat but decided now was not the time.

  “There’s a chance you could be back by mid-week next week.” When Ada didn’t respond, Brenda cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Deacon really trusts your insight, Ada. His first move after finding out about the case was to have me call you.”

  Ada felt a touch of pride. “I’m sure Janice loved that.”

  Brenda let out a rich chuckle. “You should have seen the look on her face.”

  “I can only imagine.” Ada pulled her phone away and glanced at the time. “I’ll need to get my time off request in within the next hour. What time is my flight?”

  Ada could almost feel the agent’s relief through the phone. “I could have you on a plane at seven tomorrow morning.” Another voice called in the background. “We’re heading out now. Go ahead and ask for time off through the end of next week. Chances are you’ll be back before then, but just to be safe.”

  Ada winced. This jaunt to California would completely use up all the vacation time she had accumulated over the past year. “All right. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  “Don’t sound so thrilled,” Brenda said then sobered. “We really appreciate it, Ada.”

  Ada grinned. “Go catch your plane.”

  ——
>
  Sacramento International Airport was a hive of activity. Ada wove her way through the crowds to baggage claim while typing out a quick text to her uncle to let him know she’d arrived. She then quickly sent a follow-up text warning him not to spoil Tiny or else he’d find himself owning a Great Dane. When she arrived at the appropriate conveyor belt, she collected her bag and set course for the exit. As she approached the automatic doors, she spotted a familiar face coming toward her.

  “Dade!” she called as she quickened her steps to meet him.

  A huge grin broke out on Dade’s face as he gave her a single wave. “Sorry if I kept you waiting. We’re still trying to get set up,” Dade said as Ada reached him. “I’ll get that.” Dade lifted her bag off the ground and over his shoulder with enviable ease.

  Ada followed the agent out into the bustle of the airport entrance. “When did you get in?” she asked him.

  “About four this morning.” Dade led her to a waiting black SUV parked curbside and opened the passenger door for her.

  Ada grimaced in pity as she climbed into the car. Dade shut her door then opened the door behind her and placed her suitcase on the middle seat. He jogged around to the other side of the car and jumped in at a traffic break. “The plan was to bring you some of the latest files on the case, but we haven’t been here long enough. The police are still trying to get their wits about them. Not often they have a serial killer who thinks he’s a vampire.” Dade buckled in and pulled the car away from the curb.

  “When Brenda called she was in a big hurry, so I never got to hear why James thinks this is another copycat case.” Ada reached down into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She quickly pulled up a local news site and scanned through their coverage of the murders.

  Dade left the airport and took a right. “Janice was the one who pulled this case out of the stack we get sent every day. She compared it with other well-known cases and made a few connections to Richard Chase.”

  “‘The Vampire of Sacramento,’” Ada murmured as she put her phone down. She glanced out the window as Dade drove them into a bustling suburban stretch of town.