Glassford Girl: Part 3 (The Emily Heart Time Jumper)

by Jay J. Falconer

  When Jim interviewed her for the manager’s position, he felt like he was the one applying for the job. Her articulate questions put him on the spot, which caught his attention and landed her the job. He felt that any woman who could handle herself in a stressful situation like that would run a tight ship. And he was right. She did.

  Abby appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

  “Jim, we’re just about done here. You going to lock up or do you want me to stay and take care of it after your meeting?”

  Jim turned. “I got it, Abs. Have you met my old friend, Detective Alison?”

  She smiled. “I haven’t had the pleasure. Nice to meet you, Detective.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “You boys be good tonight.”

  “Not a chance,” Alison said, firing a quick wink at her.

  Abby didn’t seem to let his obvious flirtation affect her. Her eyes scanned the table, stopping on both shot glasses for a moment. “Night, fellas. Drive safe.”

  “Will do,” Miller told her, waiting until she walked through the kitchen swing door and disappeared from sight.

  He turned to Alison. “Okay, bud. This is it.” He held up the folder. “This is what I have on the girl.”

  “You’re finally gonna come clean with me, Millsy?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Miller said, choosing his words carefully to maintain his poker face. Lying to an old buddy wasn’t making his conscience happy, but he decided not to travel the full disclosure route for several reasons. Least of which was, he didn’t trust the detective side of his friend completely, not when it came to Emily Heart and the string of incidents that seemed to be following the girl across time and space. Alison was under a mountain of pressure from his boss, and if he’d been any other man, a man of lesser character or fortitude, he would have buckled under the weight a long time ago.

  Jim knew sharing the entire saga of Emily Heart would require a willing suspension of disbelief by Alison, and his full participation of an active imagination. The die-hard Marine sitting across from him would be unwilling to do the former, and incapable of the latter. Their time serving in the Corps had made Jim a baseline skeptic, but for Alison, it had turned him into a whiskey-loving cynic whose every thought was laced with paranoia and distrust. Jim needed to reveal carefully, because the mere mention of the word paranormal would probably make Alison’s head explode.

  What Alison’s time in the desert of the Middle East hadn’t eroded, twenty years on the police force had. Jim hated to say it, but Alison chose to only see the worst in people. He did have a few redeeming qualities, you just had to look hard for them. Most people who met the man didn’t bother, leaving a bad first impression to linger for eternity.

  Miller opened the folder and shuffled through a dozen photos he’d brought with him for the meeting. He laid one image on the table—a computer-generated screenshot he’d grabbed from a TV news report a couple years earlier. He began his edited story, keeping a close watch on Alison’s facial expressions and body language, making sure to sell the fiction he was about to spin.

  * * *

  At the same time, a few blocks away, Emily breezed out the front entrance of the library, heading south on North First Avenue.

  The night air was cool and refreshing, with a hint of smoke in the air. Someone nearby must have been using their fireplace, she decided. Her mind instantly flashed a scene showing Derek and her sitting on the wood floor of a cabin in the forest, only a few feet in front of a roaring fire, cuddling under a blanket, without a stitch of clothes on. Her mind drifted, letting her imagine what it would feel like to have her skin pressing against his; both of their bodies burning with anticipation about the impending night of romance. She smiled, then turned the dream off. There was work to be done tonight.

  Her mind was alive with ideas after discovering some interesting articles on Internet websites about neuroscience and time travel. However, every site she visited about alien abduction looked corny and paranoid. She couldn’t take them seriously, so she spent most of her time reading about neuroelectricity, biotransformation, and wormholes.

  Lately, she hadn’t had the time to think through what was happening with her ever-changing jump process, but tonight she did. Her visit with Junie later could wait a little while longer while she pondered more important topics, like what was happening with her and her transformation when the blue fire came, where her relationship with Derek was heading, and what the deal was with the Orange Man and his exploding briefcase. It was a mishmash of subjects to sift through, but she needed to spend time on each of them.

  “Sometimes a girl just needs time to think,” she mumbled. For some, sitting on a bench in Glassford Park might be the first logical choice, but since it was usually overrun with creepers at this time of night, she tossed that idea aside. She let her eyes wander up and enjoy the stars as she crossed East Portland Street, then, out of nowhere, an emotional image of her mom came into her thoughts.

  “Mom, where are you? I miss you so much,” she called out to the heavens, holding back a bevy of tears that wanted to erupt.

  “I’m here, Em. I’m always here. With you. Watching over you. Guiding you,” her mother’s voice answered back.

  Right then, Emily realized that she hadn’t heard her mother’s voice in what seemed like ages. Maybe Candi had been away, focusing her attention elsewhere in her otherworldly plane of existence.

  Emily had a hard time using the word heaven to explain where her mother’s life force went after her heinous, painful death on the visitors’ ship, but she did believe that her mom was in a better place, regardless of the realm her consciousness was actually in.

  The cadence and tone of her mother’s reassuring words had filled her heart with love, but the moment of bliss didn’t last long. A nasty string of visions from the night of The Taking took over, changing her mood completely.

  “Someone has to make you pay,” she said to the memory of her abductors.

  Before she took another breath, an orange-colored SUV drove up next to her with music blaring. The pimped-out truck slowed to a stop and idled under a shower of light from the streetlight above. The music dulled and the driver’s window rolled down. Someone from inside whistled at her.

  “Hey, little mama, you looking to party?” a male said. A moment later, the driver’s face appeared through the window. He was a white man in his early twenties with a rather handsome face and slicked-back blond hair. A burning cigarette hung precariously from his lips and he seemed twitchy, unable to hold still in his seat.

  Beyond him, in the front passenger seat, was a girl with sweeping black hair. Maybe Hispanic. Her ultra-thin face indicated she was grossly underweight. She was about the same age as the driver, and her face was full of piercings and layers of dark makeup. The girl stared at Emily, bopping around in her seat like a marathon dancer.

  “Damn tweakers,” Emily said, turning to change direction. She crossed the street behind the vehicle and traveled west on Roosevelt. “You know better,” she scolded herself. “Stick to side streets and alleys, especially at night.”

  The car turned around and began to follow her. When it caught up, the driver leaned out the window. “Where you going, sweet thing?”

  “Leave me alone!” Emily snapped, quickening her pace. She jogged down the sidewalk toward the lighted awning of a restaurant that she could see a few hundred yards up the block.

  The car kept pace with her and the driver continued his verbal banter. “Why you running away, Red? We just want to party. Come on, girl, we’ve got some good shit. You’re gonna love it.”

  “I told you, leave me the hell alone!”

  She ran the rest of the way and stopped under the awning of the restaurant. The painted front door read “Carly’s Bistro. Walk-ins Welcome. 10:30 a.m. – 1:00 a.m.”

  Perfect.

  She turned and gave the meth-heads an evil stare before stepping inside.

  E
mily stood inside the waiting area of the bistro, peering out the front window to keep watch on the stalkers. Their vehicle pulled ahead and parked a short distance away with its tailpipe puffing a thin veil of smoke.

  A long-haired blond woman with sunken cheeks and a flat chest suddenly appeared next to Emily. She was wearing a designer blouse—all white—that hung from her narrow shoulders like a floor mop.

  “Welcome to Carly’s. My name is Tally and I’ll be your hostess today,” the woman said with a high-pitched voice that was three octaves higher than ear-splitting. It took a second for Emily’s ears to stop ringing.

  Tally’s maroon-colored peasant skirt looked too big for her frame, but even so, it needed to be a foot longer to cover up her porcelain-white calves and boney chicken legs. The word anorexic popped into Emily’s brain when she considered the woman’s entire presentation. Junie carried more meat on her bones than this forty-year-old, and that was saying something.

  “Table for one, young lady? Or maybe you’re meeting someone?” Tally’s voice shrilled.

  Emily turned her head, hoping to protect her ears from instant hearing loss. “Uh—no, sorry. I’m actually just hiding out for a minute.”

  Before Tally could respond, the SUV flipped a U-turn on the street and peeled out, revving its engine and fishtailing as it sped in front of the restaurant. A moment later it vanished into the darkness, leaving only a trail of tire rubber and smoke behind.

  “Are you okay, my dear?”

  “Yeah, now,” Emily replied, giving the concerned woman a painful smile—partially due to the close encounter with the drug addicts, but mainly because of Tally’s annoying voice. A castrated chipmunk wouldn’t stand a chance in a shrieking contest against this woman.

  “What happened? Did they hurt you?”

  Emily checked the area again. All clear.

  “They were trying to get me to do drugs with them, but I told them to leave me alone. All I can say is thank God I found this place when they kept following me. Do you mind if I wait here for a few minutes? Just to be sure they don’t come back.”

  “Stay as long as you need, sweetheart,” Tally said, pointing to an open booth neighboring the hostess stand. “Why don’t you rest there for a few minutes?”

  “I think I’d rather—”

  Tally put her hand on Emily’s shoulder, squeezing it softly. “Honey, I’d feel much better if you weren’t standing in front of the window where they can see you. Drive-bys and all. You can never be too careful these days.”

  “Okay, but I can’t stay long,” she said, following the blond stick figure to the empty booth. Emily waited for Tally to step aside, then slid her bottom onto the cushioned seat. She could still see the street if she leaned to the right and peered around the hostess stand.

  “Let me get you some water. You look thirsty,” the hostess said, darting off in a flash.

  Emily sat with focused eyes, checking the view of the street every few seconds. She wondered how long she’d have to wait before she could declare that the druggies weren’t coming back. It was possible she had made the situation worse when she gave them the stink eye. But then again, she didn’t plan to do it. It just happened—not that her excuse would make a difference.

  If she had antagonized them, they might be waiting around the next corner. She needed to be extra careful when she left. They could be anywhere.

  A few minutes later, a glass of ice water slid in front of her, along with a straw still wrapped in paper, a metal fork, and a tall slice of red velvet cake. The dessert was smothered with a half-inch of white frosting and topped with a dash of red sprinkles.

  “Wait, I didn’t order that,” Emily said, worrying she’d have to pay for it.

  “My treat. I hope you like red velvet cake. Our fabulous pastry chef just made it this afternoon.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s my all-time fave,” Emily said, grabbing the fork. She took turns stuffing her mouth with cake and then washing it down with water. The rich, smooth treat was incredible, especially the generous layer of frosting. It only took seconds for her energy level to pick up, invigorated by the massive sugar rush.

  When she was done, she nearly licked the plate clean, put the fork on it and slid it across the table to Tally. “That was totally amazing. Thank you.”

  “I thought you might have needed something to eat. A beautiful young girl like you needs to keep her strength up.”

  “To tell you the truth, I didn’t think I was hungry until I tasted it. Then I couldn’t stop. Thank you soooo much.”

  Tally smiled, then swung her head around to look at the front window. “Any sign of them?”

  Emily stood up and walked to the front door, her eyes darting up and down the street. “Nope. Looks like they’re gone for good.”

  “If you need me to call 9-1-1 or a cab, I will. Better to be safe than sorry.”

  Emily couldn’t pay for a cab and couldn’t afford for the cops to get involved, either. “No. No need for that. I’m sure it’s safe now.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind, really. Only takes a phone call.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but no. I need to get going. Got somewhere I need to be,” Emily said, pushing the door open. “Thanks for the water and the yummy cake,” she said before the door closed behind her.

  The sidewalk greeted her, where she stood to get her bearings and run through a plan of action in her head. She had time to go see Jim before hanging out with Junie. The last time she’d seen him was after the explosion. Her mind flashed to a memory of him lying unconscious on the ground, bleeding.

  His house wasn’t far away. Shouldn’t take long to pop in and say hi, she decided.

  Emily went into stealth mode, planning to stick to the back streets and alleys on her way to Jim’s. She prayed the tweakers weren’t waiting for her around a dark corner.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jim Miller opened the folder of Emily notes while sitting in his favorite booth in his restaurant. He looked at Detective Alison sitting across from him.

  “About a year and a half ago, I was up early, watching the news and drinking coffee,” Miller said, lifting his shot glass to take another swill of heaven.

  He pulled out a picture of Emily—the one taken from the overhead security camera at the Italian restaurant. He angled it at Alison. “They were running a piece about the shootout in that Italian joint—you know the one.”

  “How could anyone forget? A lot of blood spilled that day.”

  “I saw this on the news and heard the story about two young girls and some gangbangers. You know me. I’m always looking for a story. It struck me as odd—two teenage girls in a shootout? Especially when I heard the call from the Irish Cultural Center come through over the scanner, tagging the suspect—the redhead. I put two and two together, went over, and took these.”

  Jim fanned out more photos on the table in front of his buddy. They showed Emily in the back of a police car outside the Irish Cultural Center.

  “You took these?” Alison asked, picking the photos up and shuffling through them.

  “Shot some video of one of your officers roughing her up, too. You should be glad I’m the one who captured that little abuse of authority. Otherwise, it would’ve been all over the news. Imagine the backlash.”

  “So far you haven’t told me anything I don’t know.”

  “Sorta my point. But let me finish.” He took the next two photos and tossed them in front of Alison, spinning them like he was dealing cards. The snapshots centered on the hollowed, charred area in the back seat of the police cruiser, taken shortly after Emily disappeared from custody.

  “Where’d you get these?”

  “After the girl was arrested and taken for booking, I decided to take a trip down to County to see if I could gather any more information. On the way, I just so happened to stumble across the very same patrol car and took a look inside. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the girl was gone, the officer was dead, and only a bla
ck hole remained.”

  Alison looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “Yeah, forensics came up empty across the board. The captain’s been in a foul mood ever since. Can’t blame him, though. When you lose one of your own, everyone’s hypersensitive until it’s solved.”

  “I doubt you’ll ever solve it.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Simple, really. What I think actually happened defies logic. Not to mention conventional science. In fact, everything about this girl seems to be tied to a riddle that’s been wrapped inside a smoke screen.”

  “That’s for damn sure.”

  “Anyway—after that point in time, she was a ghost in the wind, right? Nothing for over a year. Then another call goes out over the scanner. A redheaded teenage girl appears naked in the middle of the street. She tangles with a cab driver and steals his ride. Coincidence? I think not. There’s a clear pattern forming.”

  “You’ve done your homework, Millsy. Impressive.”

  “That was the day of the shootout with your men. The day they used me for live target practice.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Ancient history. Get to the point, already.”

  “I am. Just trying to lay it all out for you.”

  “In a slow crawl. I’ve seen mold grow faster.”

  “Look, I’m trying to tell you that you were right. I lied to you about not knowing her. That day—the day of the shootout—I went and found her. Brought her here. We had a long meet and greet before the Locos jumped us.”

  “You found her? How?”

  “I checked the shelters. Found her at the third one I checked. Simple detective work. You remember what that is, right?”

  “Don’t test me, pal. You’re on thin ice already.”

  “Just trying to explain.”

  “So, which one?”

  “New Hope Mission. Just south of downtown.”

  “Then you didn’t simply stumble into her having an altercation with the West Side Locos?”

  “Nope. Turns out I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. So was she. I’m not sure what the Locos were doing in the neighborhood, since it’s Gatos territory. All I can figure is they must have spotted her standing out in front while she was waiting for me to lock up. Recognized her from the restaurant—wanted payback—that type of thing. When we stepped onto the sidewalk, they came out of nowhere and ambushed us.”