Seams in Reality

by Alex Siegel

  The agent was trying to get past the logon screen, but he obviously didn't know the password. He was working his way down a list of possibilities on a printout.

  "Where did you get the list?" Andrew said.

  "The geeks back at headquarters generated it," the agent said. "It's maiden names, pets, old street names, that sort of thing. It's worth a shot."

  "What if it doesn't work?"

  "We'll send the whole computer to HQ for analysis."

  Andrew nodded.

  He noticed a new color inkjet printer was attached to the computer. The printer still had some factory tape on it, and the original box was sitting on the floor. The printer was loaded with glossy photo paper. What was Serkan printing? Andrew wondered.

  Keene came over to the computer. "Let me try. I spent enough time inside his mind to make a good guess at his password."

  The BPI agent moved aside, and Keene took a turn at the keyboard.

  After a few attempts, he said, "Got it!"

  The regular desktop appeared on the computer.

  "Nice," the BPI agent said, "let me get back on."

  "No," Keene said. "We need somebody who thinks like Serkan to explore his computer. Andrew, you're a young male sorcerer. Take a seat."

  "That's evidence. It needs to be handled properly."

  Keene glared at the agent until he backed down.

  A crowd had started to gather around the desk. Andrew glanced at all the eager faces before sitting down and felt the pressure to perform. Serkan's chair had comfortable leather cushions.

  Andrew decided Serkan wasn't the social media type, but he probably used simple email. A handy shortcut took Andrew to the right page, and the login was supplied automatically.

  He felt like he was invading Serkan's privacy, but Andrew browsed the email anyway. A lot of it was spam. He found receipts for plane tickets, but they were too old to be relevant. The only personal correspondence was between Serkan and family members. Some email was in Turkish, and Andrew had no idea what it meant.

  "He has a phone, right?" Andrew said. "Can you track it?"

  One of the BPI agents held up a phone. "Yeah. It's right here."

  Andrew furrowed his brow. "What about texts?"

  "The phone is locked."

  "Call the service provider. They keep copies of all messages. Right?"

  "The provider wants to see a court order," the BPI agent said. "We're pushing the paperwork through now. Go back to the computer, kid."

  Andrew looked down at the computer screen. He went through the documents folder but didn't find anything of interest.

  When he opened the pictures folder, his eyes widened. There were hundreds of photos. He opened one at random and found a picture of a pretty girl with blonde hair. She was at a carnival holding a stuffed panda. Andrew tried another picture and saw the same girl. This time, she was standing in front of the Atlanta Braves baseball stadium.

  "I found the girlfriend," Andrew said. "We just need to identify her."

  He went through the pictures, searching for a clue. The girl had lovely green eyes and the body of a fashion model. He guessed she was about twenty years old. It was easy to see why Serkan was attracted to her.

  "Hey," Charley said, "stop slobbering over that chick."

  Andrew looked up at her and his face grew warm. "Sorry."

  "Just stay focused on the job."

  He continued to work. He found some photos showing Serkan and the girl together. Finally, Andrew came across a close-up of a heart-shaped pendant made of gold. An inscription read, "Love Jennifer."

  "Her name is Jennifer," he announced.

  A phone rang. A BPI agent answered a call on his cell phone.

  After listening for a moment, the agent stated loudly, "We got the data from the phone. The girl is Jennifer Lemay. She exchanged hundreds of texts with the subject, some sexually explicit. We have her home address. It's two miles from here."

  Some of the men in blue suits moved towards the door.

  "No!" Keene yelled. "Stop."

  Everybody turned towards him.

  "Serkan was my apprentice," he said angrily. "I will decide how we'll proceed."

  One of the older BPI agents walked up to Keene. Andrew had heard other men call him "Williams" in a deferential manner. His thick hair had touches of gray over the ears. He seemed to have a permanent squint and a scowl like a gunfighter squaring off in a shootout. His suit was shiny, and the creases in his slacks were sharp.

  "I'm in charge of the Atlanta office," Williams said. "This investigation is in my jurisdiction. I'll make the decisions, not you. Stop ordering us around."

  Keene glared at him. Williams was bigger and taller, but Keene appeared completely confident in his authority.

  "Andrew and Charley will spearhead this investigation," Keene said. "It takes a sorcerer to find a sorcerer."

  Williams looked at Andrew and Charley with derision. "You want these kids to lead a manhunt?"

  Keene nodded. "They have more intelligence in their little fingers than you have in your entire thick skull. They perceive a deeper level of truth than you could ever comprehend. If they need your help, they'll ask for it."

  Andrew grinned. That was the nicest compliment he had ever received, and it had come from a man who knew what he was talking about. He and Charley exchanged proud looks.

  "You're entitled to your opinion," Williams said angrily, "but according to federal law, the BPI is responsible for investigating crimes and incidents involving sorcerers."

  "Secret laws written by frightened politicians in the middle of the night," Keene said.

  "But still enforceable. This is my case. If I need your help, I'll ask for it."

  "I want to hear that from your boss. Get Director Webster on the phone."

  "Gladly," Williams said.

  He took out his phone and put it into speaker mode. He dialed a number.

  "This is Webster," a man answered. Andrew recognized his voice from their meeting months ago.

  "Sir, this is Senior Agent Williams in Atlanta. I'm investigating the disappearance of Keene's apprentice."

  "I've been meaning to call you about that. Any progress?"

  "We have some information, sir," Williams said, "but now I have a management issue. Keene wants to call the shots."

  Keene leaned towards the phone. "That's right. This is a delicate matter, and I don't want your gun-toting blockheads botching it."

  "My blockheads are trained for exactly this situation," Webster replied calmly. "What's your alternative? You can't go out on a lengthy investigation. You have to stay near your seam."

  "I want Andrew and Charley to handle it. Tonya sent them down from Chicago, and they're ready to go."

  "Is that a joke?"

  "Not at all," Keene said.

  "Then you're being ridiculous. Andrew has been in the program for just two months, and Charley hardly qualifies as a seasoned sorcerer capable of spearheading a manhunt."

  "Do I have to remind you who I am? I'm not just a master sorcerer and a member of the Sorcerer's Tribunal. I'm also a highly acclaimed psychiatrist and the chief of a major psychiatric institute. I'm well positioned to judge what is ridiculous. The apprentices have extraordinary talents." Keene looked over at Andrew. "Working together, I don't see how they can fail."

  "Are you sure you're thinking straight?" Webster said.

  "I'm fine. My mind has never been clearer."

  "A few years ago..."

  "Don't remind me of my past failings," Keene said loudly. "All I need from you is a decision."

  Webster was silent for a long moment. "OK," he said finally. "We'll do it your way... for now, but if those apprentices screw it up, it's on you."

  "Of course. Thank you. Bye."

  Williams put his phone in his pocket with a grimace on his face. Keene just looked at him.

  Andrew was suddenly feeling a lot of pressure. Keene had put his reputation on the line, and if Andrew failed, it would make all
of them look bad.

  Charley straightened up. "I guess our next stop is Jennifer's home. Maybe she has an idea where Serkan is. We'll take the limo."

  The BPI agents had a quick discussion. It was decided Dan would continue to act as Andrew and Charley's chauffeur. Williams would ride along to provide supervision and support.

  The two apprentices and the two agents left the apartment as a group. Williams was in a very foul mood, and Andrew kept his distance.

  Williams knew the area so he sat in the driver's seat of the limousine. Dan rode beside him, and they immediately launched into a professional conversation about backgrounds and qualifications. They were preparing to work as a team, and the apprentices were excluded.

  Andrew didn't mind. He and Charley climbed into the comfortable passenger compartment in the back of the limousine. As soon as everybody was settled, Williams drove off.

  Charley leaned over and whispered, "We really need to do a good job."

  "I know," Andrew murmured. "Keene is counting on us."

  "Not just him. Sorcerers everywhere need more respect and independence. We don't want to be a bad example."

  He considered that statement. He had met several sorcerers, and not all of them deserved respect and independence. The BPI had plenty of justification for being cautious. Andrew had to admit even his own thoughts weren't always respectable. He had felt the temptation to dabble in the infernal arts. The power of sorcery was as intoxicating as any drug, and he could head down the wrong path almost by accident.

  The drive to Jennifer's home took only a few minutes. It turned out to be a small, single-story house in a heavily wooded area. Pale green paint covered the wooden walls. The short front lawn was neatly mowed, but the neighbor's lawns weren't as well groomed. One was a solid mass of weeds. Jennifer's house had an enormous oak tree in front with a crown larger than the house.

  Everybody got out of the limousine. Andrew was still enjoying the mild weather, and he wasn't looking forward to returning to the bitterly cold winter in Chicago.

  "We got an update on the way over," Dan said. "Jennifer lives with her parents, Bruce and Patricia Lemay. This is their home. They reported their daughter missing two days ago, and the police investigated but found no leads."

  Andrew frowned at the unsettling news. "Maybe Serkan and Jennifer eloped?"

  "I suppose that's possible. Regardless, we have two missing persons to find now, and they'll probably be together. What's your cover story?"

  Andrew stared at Dan blankly.

  "You can't just go in there asking about a missing girl," Dan said. "You need a story."

  Williams smirked.

  Andrew turned to Charley. "I guess we can use the same story as before. We're working for a campus newspaper."

  "Emory University," she said. "It's supposed to be a good school."

  "OK. Get your camera."

  Charley went back into the limousine and retrieved her camera. She turned it on and adjusted the settings. "I'm ready."

  The two of them walked up to the door of the house. A large brass crucifix hung above the knocker, and the portrayal of Jesus on the cross was almost gruesomely detailed. A sign below read, "The joy of the Lord is your strength."

  Andrew glanced at Charley. She grimaced.

  He knocked loudly.

  A woman answered the door. She was wearing a long, blue skirt and a plain white shirt with long sleeves. A silver cross hung around her neck. She had dark hair, but otherwise, the family resemblance to Jennifer Lemay was obvious.

  "Hi," Andrew said. "We're reporters from the Emory University Gazette. You must be Patricia. We came to do a story on your missing daughter. Can we come in and ask you a few questions?"

  Patricia hesitated.

  "Extra publicity can only help your daughter, ma'am," Charley said.

  Patricia nodded. "OK. Come in."

  Andrew and Charley went into the house. The living room had a brown couch and a white chair, both made in a plain, traditional style. Shelves held hundreds of little ceramic figurines. There were puppy dogs with big eyes, kittens, cherubs, bunnies, sad clowns, and children wearing traditional Swiss clothing. Andrew also saw more crucifixes and more signs with slogans like, "I can do all things through Christ." They've turned religion into a fetish, he thought.

  He took out his phone and selected the voice recorder app. He held the phone near Patricia's face. "Mrs. Lemay, what can you tell us about your daughter? Do you have any idea where she went?"

  "The Devil took her," Patricia replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

  "Huh?"

  "For the last year, she's been consorting with sorcerers. My husband and I talked to her a thousand times about it. We warned her God doesn't approve, but she never listened. We tried everything to bring her back to Jesus. We even locked her in her room without food a few times. Two nights ago, she never came home. I'm certain Lucifer claimed her."

  Andrew glanced at Charley. "What do you mean by 'sorcerers'?"

  "Witches and wizards. They meet at night and perform sick rituals. I don't know why the police tolerate it."

  He narrowed his eyes. Rituals?

  "A man named Serkan also went missing," Charley said. "There is evidence he had a relationship with your daughter."

  Patricia nodded. "He came around a few times, but we sent him away. Maybe the Devil took him, too."

  "Was he a sorcerer?"

  "Probably, but I don't know. As soon as we found out he didn't belong to a proper church, we kicked him out of the house. We worked so hard to raise Jennifer properly, and then she chose a heathen. She actually claimed she loved him. Isn't that crazy? My husband and I still don't understand where we went wrong."

  "How do you feel about your daughter's disappearance?" Andrew said.

  "We love her, of course," Patricia said, "but she chose the path to perdition. We can't argue with God's justice. Maybe if she repents for her sins, the Lord will permit her to return home."

  "I'm curious about these sorcerers," Charley said. "Where can we find them?"

  "I heard they go to Candler Park when it's dark, but I wouldn't mess with them if I were you. What happened to Jennifer could easily happen to you."

  "We'll be careful," Andrew said. "Thank you for your time. I'm sure everything will work out for the best in the end."

  Charley took a few pictures of Patricia for the sake of the cover story.

  Then Andrew and Charley left the house. They hurried back to the limousine.

  "What happened?" Williams said.

  "It's strange," Andrew said. "The mother claimed Jennifer was consorting with sorcerers, and she wasn't talking about Serkan. Are there other sorcerers around here?"

  "Aside from Keene and Serkan? Not that I know about. If there are others, they're renegades."

  "We might be able to find them in Candler Park tonight."

  "I know where that is," Williams said. "It's big and includes a golf course. What else did the mother say?"

  "She claimed the sorcerers perform 'sick rituals,' but it didn't make sense to me. There are exercises we do for training, but I wouldn't call them rituals. We don't chant, sacrifice animals, or anything like that."

  Charley nodded in agreement.

  "These other sorcerers may just be fakes," Williams said. "Plenty of those around. They're usually harmless."

  Andrew continued, "Anyway, the mother blames the Devil for Jennifer's disappearance."

  "That's not likely," Williams said, "but I have met bad men who could be mistaken for the Devil. Are you going to Candler Park tonight?"

  "I guess we have to. Charley and I need to determine if the sorcerers are real, and even if they aren't, they might have information about Serkan."

  Andrew looked to the west at the setting sun. Night would come soon.

  "It could be dangerous," Dan said. "You want backup?"

  Andrew looked to Charley.

  She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes."

  "No problem," Dan said.
"We'll have guys in tactical gear watching from all sides. They'll be invisible, and you'll be protected."

  Andrew furrowed his brow. The operation was starting to sound like a military mission, and he would be at the center of it. He didn't like the idea of guns pointed in his general direction even if the men holding the guns were friendly. He would be more cautious about asking the BPI for help in the future.

  "Let's have dinner first," Charley said. "I'm starving, and it could be a long night."

  Chapter Twelve

  Andrew and Charley stepped out of the limousine. According to their research, Candler Park covered 55 acres. It featured a nine-hole golf course, a swimming pool, a soccer field, a basketball court, tennis courts, and a playground. From the street, it looked like an endless expanse of grass and trees with gentle slopes. The forest was dense in some areas, providing plenty of good spots for "sorcerers" to gather in secret.

  Dan rolled down the window of the limousine. "Do you feel a seam?" he asked.

  Andrew closed his eyes and searched with his inner sense. "Nothing," he said after a minute.

  "All clear," Charley said. "If sorcerers are here, they can't do much."

  "The men are deployed," Dan said. "They'll have eyes on you constantly. Just wave your arms if you get into trouble."

  Andrew looked into the forest. The sun had set, but street lamps in the park provided lighting along the paths. He didn't see any men hiding in the shadows. He had to trust they were there.

  "Go," Dan said.

  Andrew and Charley started walking along a concrete path. The park was quiet and spooky.

  "This is weird," she said. "Why would sorcerers meet in a park without a seam at night?"

  "I guess we'll find out," he said. "I hope Serkan is OK. I liked the guy."

  "Me, too."

  They headed towards the southern end of the park where the trees were closest together. Andrew kept his inner eye attuned for the slightest flicker of energy. If there were a seam or a sorcerer in the area, he would detect it, but the only source was Charley.

  "Getting anything?" he said.

  "Not yet," she said. "Of course, a master sorcerer can hide his energy."