Dial W for Wicked

by Lotta Smith

  Sitting up on the sofa, Stephanie was hawk-eyeing the screen.

  “What’s up? What’s so important about this show?” he asked, squinting at what seemed like a game show.

  “Hey, look at them, the couple in the center.” Without taking her eyes off the TV, Stephanie patted the seat beside her invitingly.

  “What?” Darren sat next to her as the camera panned across the participants.

  “Look at her. Now you can see her well, right?” Stephanie pointed at a brunette in the center.

  “Oh, she looks familiar.” Darren leaned in toward the screen for a better look. “She was at our wedding.”

  “Right.” Stephanie turned and looked at him. “She’s Tracie. Tracie Winston. She was one of my bridesmaids, remember?”

  “Yeah, right. Now I remember. Wow, she’s on TV!”

  “Says a guy whose work is aired on TV every Monday evening.” Stephanie chuckled.

  “Here you are.” Darren poured some beer into the glasses and offered one to his wife.

  “Thanks.” Stephanie took a sip.

  “Another thousand points to the Winstons! Great job!” the older guy hosting the show exclaimed excitedly. As Mr. and Mrs. Winston high-fived, he looked at the other participating couples. “Come on, people. The game has just begun. Every couple has a chance to win this game!”

  “What was his name? Tracie’s husband?” Darren asked, sipping beer and watching the show.

  “It’s Luke,” she replied. “Hey, isn’t that a good name to feature in your next novel?”

  “Maybe, but considering he’s married to your friend, killing him off in the very beginning of the story would be awkward, right?” Darren tilted his head to the side.

  “Of course.” Stephanie nodded. “Don’t get Luke killed.”

  “Then again, he’s not the kind of guy that I want to feature as a hotshot detective who drives muscle cars and has a ménage à trois with sexy women.”

  “Seriously?” Stephanie looked at him. “I think the name Luke is sexy. It sounds like a man who sees through layers of lies and finds the truth.”

  “Come on, look at him. He’s got a receding hairline. My hero wouldn’t be balding.”

  “Hello?” She raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. “Don’t even think about his hairline when we meet them, okay? Those sorts of comments would destroy our friendship.”

  “Of course not. My lips are sealed.” Darren ran his finger across his own lips.

  “Wow, Luke gave another correct answer!” Stephanie clapped.

  “Oh yeah. He knows a lot of stuff,” Darren agreed, thinking maybe he could use someone resembling Luke as a brilliant detective. Of course, he wasn’t going to star Detective Luke in his popular high-octane, hardboiled series that involved a smorgasbord of sexy women and hot, steamy, kinky sex in every episode. He would choose something like a traditional detective mystery with a lethal dose of humor instead.

  Darren Fender was a popular crime fiction author. Luckily, many of his novels were listed on various bestsellers lists, ranging from the New York Times to the Texas Tribune. Though he didn’t mention it in front of Stephanie, he was more interested in Tracie. She used to be a perky blonde, but the woman on the screen was sporting brunette hair, and in his opinion, she looked mysterious and sexy with the new color.

  He could use her as the heroine, or at least some kind of femme fatale who had a secretive truth that brought the breakthrough to the case. He was thinking about a dozen possible scenarios to describe her steamy sex scenes. One of them featured her getting nearly raped by the crazed assassin—making the readers’ hearts pitter-patter—and perfect timing for Detective Luke to come and rescue her…. Of course, she’d end up sleeping with Luke, and Darren had to try hard to keep his face straight in front of Stephanie.

  While he was mentally stripping his wife’s best friend, the game show went on. The Winstons were winning by a huge margin against their competitors. Luke was the one who gave a lot of right answers and accumulated points.

  “I’m impressed. Luke is brilliant,” Darren commented.

  “I know,” Stephanie agreed. “Tracie wasn’t the sharpest or keenest student. Without Luke, the Winstons would be losing miserably.”

  “Yeah, but she gave the right answer to the question regarding an actress’s affair with a married director. That was crucial for them to proceed to the finals.”

  “Yeah, right.” The moment Stephanie reached for her glass on the coffee table, the show host’s voice boomed with the fanfare.

  “The answer is right! Mr. and Mrs. Winston, you’re the winners!”

  “They won!” Stephanie shrieked, as if she had won Powerball or something. Jumping up from the sofa, she bounced like a five-year-old. “They won!”

  “How cool is that?” Darren joined her in bouncing.

  Clasping her hands in his, Darren wrapped his arms around his wife, anticipating a passionate night with a promise of hot, steamy sex, but the show wasn’t over.

  “Alrighty! Now that we have the winners, let’s move to the final part of this show.”

  Stephanie slipped out of his embrace and turned back to the TV.

  “Oh, we’ve got to watch the hypnosis show.” She sat back on the sofa.

  “Hypnosis show?” Darren raised an eyebrow, thinking, Seriously? I thought we were gonna have sex!

  Indeed, 98 percent of his head was thinking about sex, and he couldn’t help mumbling, “We could have a juicier night in the bedroom….”

  “Believe me, Darren, you’ll thank me later for making you watch this part of the show.” Stephanie gestured for him to sit. “Have a seat.”

  Feeling like a dog being kept waiting with a treat placed in front of him, he glared at the screen. “I have a hunch that this hypnosis thing is bogus,” he mumbled as a guy in a flashy suit sporting nerdy Coke-bottle eyeglasses appeared at the podium. According to Stephanie, the prize money would be determined based on the volume of applause from the audience watching the show at the studio.

  “I know it’s bogus. Everybody knows that. Still, it’s so hilarious. There was this episode where the husband confessed to going on a romantic getaway with a housewife next door, using his business trip as an excuse. You really should have watched that episode. Despite winning a huge cash prize thanks to the amount of applause from the audience, neither of them looked like a winner at all.”

  “Oh yeah?” Darren chuckled. Maybe if the Winstons blurted something really funny, this would be worth his time.

  “My name is Monsieur Albatross. I’m here to put either of you under hypnosis. Personally, I like to call it a mesmerizing art rather than hypnosis. So, who would like to be mesmerized?” said the guy in the flashy costume. “How about you, Mrs. Winston?”

  “Oh no. Not me.” Tracie shook her head.

  “Okay then, you’re the lucky one to be mesmerized.” The host of the show pointed to Luke, smiling broadly as if he’d just witnessed the most hilarious thing.

  “Well… um… me?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows, looking confused and rather reluctant. Darren sympathized with him. Poor Luke must’ve had no idea he’d be treated like a guinea pig for the world to see. Darren didn’t fancy being put under hypnosis. What if he didn’t fully recover from the hypnotic treatment and he forgot about being a novelist in the first place?

  Hell, that would suck, Darren thought. Besides, his publishers, editors, and agent would be pissed.

  “Let me prepare myself to mesmerize you.” Monsieur Albatross clasped his hands in front of his chest and closed his eyes.

  “Have you ever been put under hypnosis?” the host asked, pretending not to notice Luke’s reluctance.

  “No.” Lips tight, Luke shook his head.

  “Okay, how do you think you’ll do being hypnotized? Do you think you’ll be easily affected?”

  “I have no idea.” Luke tilted his head to the side. The more questions the show host asked him, the more worried Luke appeared.

  Monsi
eur Albatross raised his head and opened his eyes. “I’m ready!” He flashed a thumbs-up.

  “Fabulous! Now, let’s get started. Everyone, let’s cheer Mr. Winston and Monsieur Albatross with applause!” The host ambled to the edge of the podium, clapping his hands, encouraging the audience to do the same.

  Then the lights went down in the studio, except for the small one illuminating Luke.

  “Mr. Winston, please look at the camera,” the host told him in a tone resembling the narrator of a horror show.

  When Luke complied, Monsieur Albatross held up a pocket watch on a chain. The watch looked like the one carried by the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.

  Slowly swinging the pocket watch from right to left in front of the camera, Monsieur Albatross murmured, “You are relaxed and, at the same time, totally focused on the watch. Using just your eyes, please follow the watch as it moves from side to side. Listen carefully to the sound of the watch ticking. That’s the sound of time streaming, like water running through the river to the ocean. You’re feeling drowsy… your eyelids want to shut, and….”

  Luke’s eyes were gradually closing.

  “Look at that. It looks like this hypnosis thing is working. He looks sleepy,” Stephanie whispered to Darren. Even though it was just the two of them in their condo in Soho, she had this habit of lowering her voice when she talked during a TV show. Darren found the trait endearing.

  “Maybe he’s good at acting,” Darren whispered back.

  “Now you’re absolutely hypnotized, aren’t you?” Monsieur Albatross spoke softly to Luke. “Mr. Winston, can you hear me?”

  Luke was silent for a moment, but after a pause, he replied, “Yes.”

  “Good. Now I’m going to ask you a few questions, okay?” the show host said, taking over once again. He’d been keeping a low profile while Monsieur Albatross worked with his hypnosis.

  “Okay.”

  “Please remember the moment when you met your wife, Tracie, for the first time. How did you feel about her?”

  Luke took a deep breath and cocked his head slightly to the side. “She looked cute… in an airhead-blonde way.”

  His answer brought a roar of laughter from the studio audience and Stephanie.

  “Excuse me? Hey, don’t dis me in front of the whole nation!” Tracie shot back, pouting. At that moment, Darren knew he’d just found the femme fatale who double-starred as a rocking comic relief.

  “When did you two spend your first night together?” the host asked in a conspicuous tone. “And what was the heat level?”

  “Seriously?” Darren snorted, chuckling. “That’s one hell of a violation of privacy.” Except, he was savoring every moment of it.

  “Shhh.” Stephanie leaned in to the TV screen.

  Luke answered without the slightest hint of hesitation. “It was on our third date. I walked her back to her apartment… and she invited me for a… coffee. I knew coffee wasn’t what she really wanted. It was eleven o’clock in the evening. Coffee at that hour isn’t just coffee.”

  As Luke answered, Tracie went red in the face, obviously mortified.

  Again, the studio roared with laughter.

  “Oh my God!” the host exclaimed. “Thank you so much for providing really, really honest answers!” Then he glanced at Tracie and winked. “He’s telling the truth, right?”

  Without answering him, Tracie covered her face with both hands, which spoke volumes.

  “Why don’t you ask him how many ladies he’s dated?” a man’s voice boomed from the audience.

  “That’s a good question.” The host grinned like a cat with a bowl of cream. “So, Mr. Winston, please remember the names of the ladies you dated before marrying your wife. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Luke answered, his eyes still shut.

  “Now, please tell us the names.”

  “The first one’s name was Lucy… and then came Meghan.”

  Darren furrowed his eyebrows. He knew women named Lucy and Meghan. Those were two names he would never forget. Still, both were common and popular in the US, so there was nothing strange about Luke dating women with those names.

  “Is that all? Two ladies?” the host asked teasingly, obviously hoping for something juicier that would raise his broadcast rating.

  “No.” Luke shook his head slowly. “There’s another girl. Her name was….” He wrinkled his forehead, as if desperately attempting to recall the name.

  “Her name was…?” the host said encouragingly.

  Luke exhaled deeply. “Her name was… Skyler-Mizuki.”

  “Wow! Three former girlfriends?” Monsieur Albatross chimed in. “Skyler-Mizuki. That’s a unique name, huh?”

  “Mrs. Winston, did you know that?” The host turned to Tracie.

  “I didn’t,” she answered curtly. She didn’t look happy.

  The host raised a hand. “All right, Monsieur Albatross, can you wake Mr. Winston up, please?”

  “Roger that.” The hypnotist mumbled something to Luke and then snapped his fingers. As if on cue, the lights were switched on, illuminating the whole studio. Again, the audience roared with applause.

  The surprised look on Luke’s face wasn’t fake.

  “Mrs. Winston, how would you recap your husband’s confession?” the host asked. “By the way, thanks to the huge volume of applause from the audience, you’ve just won a hundred thousand dollars in cash!”

  “Oh my God, oh my God, ohmigod!” Tracie shrieked, jumping up from her chair and running toward her husband still on the podium. “What’s in the past is in the past! All is forgiven!” She clung to him, showering him with kisses.

  The theme music of the show boomed with the applause, and then the screen switched to a commercial.

  “He was seriously hypnotized!” Stephanie snorted with laughter. “Oh gosh, that was really funny! I’ve got to call Tracie and do some interrogation!” She drank the rest of the beer in her glass in a single gulp. “Ooh! So refreshing.”

  Meanwhile, Darren was staring blankly at the TV. His mouth was agape, but he didn’t notice it.

  “Hey, Darren, what’s up? Is everything okay?” Stephanie studied his face. “Darren? Sweetie? Are you okay?”

  All of a sudden, Darren was brought back to the present. “Yes?” He looked at his wife’s beautiful face.

  “You seemed to be zoned out. Don’t tell me you’ve been put under hypnosis too.”

  “Oh no, that’s not the case.” He chuckled, reaching for the glass and taking a sip of beer. “I was… I was thinking about something.”

  “Really? Another plot for a potential story? Okay then, I’m gonna make a call to Tracie.” Planting a light kiss on his cheek, Stephanie stood up and left the living room, humming as she walked, her voice fading as each second passed.

  Inside Darren’s head, Luke’s voice had been repeating over and over like a broken device replaying the same song over and over.

  Lucy, Meghan, Skyler-Mizuki….

  Luke had definitely mentioned those names.

  Darren was thirty-three and had pride in his pristine hearing. He couldn’t have misheard those names.

  Was it a coincidence? Darren wrinkled his forehead. Was such a coincidence even possible?

  Those three women shared the exact same names with women he had known in the past: Lucy Chesterton, Meghan Atwood, and Skyler-Mizuki Wilkinson.

  On top of all that, the order of the names mentioned was exactly the same as the order of the girls’ disappearances.

  Darren wasn’t sure if he was awake, asleep and dreaming, or having a daydream. He slapped his face to see if he would feel the pain.

  He definitely felt it. Shaking his head, he took another sip of beer. It was lukewarm, but he didn’t really notice the taste.

  CHAPTER 1

  The next week following the cringe-worthy meetup with my family, Rick treated Jackie and me to a day trip to Long Island. As it was just the beginning of spring, no one was swimming, but it was warm enough for taking a s
troll on the beach and then cozying up at a beachside café, watching early sunbathers shivering in their swimsuits while keeping ourselves warm and snug inside.

  Being a ghost, Jackie had a great time flying across the beach, going through the narrow space between the sky and the ocean. As she didn’t have a body, she wasn’t bothered by the cold, and she was able to sit right next to the shirtless hunks whenever she found one. Occasionally, she talked to the passersby, and she was happy to watch the young kids playing in the sand.

  After spending a day in the sun, we were on the way home.

  As usual, Rick was behind the wheel with me riding shotgun. I was slightly sleepy after going out for the day and didn’t mind him taking charge. Listening to Jackie excitedly chattering about her day’s most hilarious moments while attempting to kill my yawns—not that her story was boring, but I was tired—I was relaxed, feeling happy and safe.

  Okay, so I had a strange vision starring a young girl—perhaps about ten years old—waving at me, saying something that I couldn’t understand, but I didn’t give it much thought. I decided the vision was a byproduct of my drowsiness. Plus, after having been nudged about having a baby by my nosy family, I assumed the girl in my vision to be our future child. She didn’t resemble either of us, but I thought I was just seeing the spirit of our future baby and expected her to develop some resemblances to either of us by the time she grew up to be as old as the girl in the vision.

  “Please… find me….” The voice sounded so small and hoarse, like she was crying. It said some other words, but they didn’t make sense.

  “Hey, Jackie, what’s that?” I said, yawning. “You’re so lively and vivacious. Fragile and sad don’t go very well with your personality. Besides, you already know us, along with Brian and Fiona. You don’t need to beg to be found anymore.”

  “What are you talking about, Mandy?” Jackie asked me, sounding genuinely confused.

  “You said ‘Please find me’ in a really small voice,” I pointed out. “Sounded like you were weeping.”