by Fae York
While she studied, Emelia ran tests on the fabrics from the evidence bags for each of the bodies. Every test came back with the same conclusion. Fabrics were around one-hundred-years-old; blood belonged to someone aged sixty to eighty. But how could that be?
Emelia sent each set of results to her private online storage and cleared the system. Then she studied the molars of the first Doe, taking pictures and sending them to her off-site storage and clearing the system again. Emelia did the same with the next Doe’s teeth then rifled through the bags in each bin, feeling as though something was missing.
Strange. She rifled through her first Doe’s bin again, noticing that there wasn’t a bag containing personal effects. There is always a bag with jewelry, money, wallets, or something personal. Where is his? Emelia knew he had come in without any ID on him—all of them had—but she would think he would have at least a ring or a watch or . . . something. Emelia flipped through the bags in the other bins and discovered there were no personal effects in their bins either. She made a mental note to check the other cases in the evidence room.
Emelia decided she would just copy the paper file that was in the manila envelope at the front of the bin. It wouldn’t be the entire case notes, but it would be the bulk of them. The information that would be inside the electronic notes would be more comprehensive and may reveal a pattern that she wouldn’t be able to see in the handwritten notes, but it was an unavoidable problem.
She quickly returned everything to its proper place and speedily walked to her office, hoping no one would notice anything out of the ordinary. Back at her desk, Emelia took a deep and shaky breath. She didn’t like that she felt like a double agent in that moment. Emelia sighed and signed out of her computer and shut it down. Dropping her phone down into the depths of her purse, and ignoring her plants, and pictures, she grabbed her coat and shut the door behind her, noting that there were already papers in the inbox on the wall. Thanks Jay.
Emelia trudged toward the elevators, suddenly exhausted and wondering if she could even make it home before falling asleep. In light of that, she drove with the windows down so the cold night air would keep her alert and kept the hard rock station at nearly full volume.
Once Emelia got home, she shut and locked the door without checking it once, then kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse by the door. Tucking the loose strands of curls behind her ears, Emelia plopped herself down on the couch and booted up her computer. With the electronics whirring to life around her, she gathered what paperwork she had been able to collect on the Doe and stacked it neatly in her scanner. As it processed each page, Emelia programed the scanner to save the images to her computer as well as her wireless drive. It never hurt to have a backup.
Emelia then closed her laptop and said a silent prayer that tomorrow she would have a few moments alone to look through what she had uncovered.
9 Slipping
The next morning Emelia made it to her office without any interruptions and pulled the stack of papers from her inbox. As she walked to her office and flipped through the documents. Emelia divided them into two stacks, those which were important and those that were not. It didn’t take long to decide that, when it came to the Doe cases, every other document could sit happily in the “can wait” pile until the afternoon. And so they did. All morning Emelia carefully studied yesterday’s scanned paperwork from the evidence envelope on her laptop.
Emelia was so consumed that she didn’t even bother to address the other documents until 2 p.m., when one of her colleagues (who had clearly been waiting long enough) popped their head in to ask if she was nearly finished. She panicked for a moment but then looked up from her computer with a smile.
“I should be done in a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll message you when it’s filed.”
As he left, Emelia breathed a sigh of relief and quickly opened up the paperwork he had been referring to. With a cursory glance, she made an educated guess about the cause of death and declared the file closed and got back to her interesting work. Emelia then sent off an instant message letting her coworker know she had filed her remarks.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. Emelia logged out of her computer and left for the cafeteria hoping to find a protein shake.
In the five minutes that she was gone, a different coworker left a sticky note on her closed office door, requesting their file be completed.
“Shoot,” Emelia muttered under her breath. She snatched the note and yanked her office door open. At her desk, her “message waiting” light was blinking and she rolled her eyes. Emelia logged into the voicemail system and found five messages waiting, three of which were from the sticky-note-messenger.
Hurriedly, Emelia opened the file, paid it a perfunctory twice over, deduced the probable cause, identified the victim, and confirmed the alleged perpetrator. She then filed the case and IM’d an acceptable excuse to her colleague, “I apologize it took me so long to get back to you today. I’ve been swamped and had completed your file before I went to lunch but forgot to press ‘close’ so the system never sent it to you. It’s done now and should be on its way.”
“Thank you, Emelia,” the response came back, “you’re the best.”
Emelia groaned and looked reluctantly at the “can wait” pile. As department hotshot, management wouldn’t tolerate idleness on her part. Clandestine work or no, she had to keep up with her regular, if insane, workload. Emelia sighed, got up from her chair, and took the remaining files with her to the evidence room.
The only other people in the lab were two lower level technicians who, to Emelia’s delight, had been assigned to the Doe cases. Pretending to be intensely focused on her own projects, Emelia kept her forehead resting against her microscope lens while the two of them talked animatedly. She then watched out of the corner of her eye as they left the lab with their bins to fetch some new ones. As the door closed behind them, Emelia’s head popped up.
Taking her clipboard, as Emelia had seen other technicians do many times, she walked over to their station. She leaned over their work and nodded, pretending to take notes for her own case. Emelia had to put on a bit of a show, just in case. After a few seconds of imaginary note-taking, she shook the computer mouse and quickly sent herself the entire case file: scans of the information found in the evidence bins, transcribed notes from the autopsy, and digital copies of all the photos taken.
She had just returned to her station and sat down when the two boisterous guys walked back into the room. Emelia ignored their presence completely, working away as though she had not moved from her station at all.
At 4 p.m., Emelia returned to her office, grateful to discover there was nothing more waiting for her in her inbox.
Just as she breathed a sigh of relief, the phone rang.
Emelia glanced at the caller ID and cringed; it was Jay. Had she been caught? She cleared her throat and pressed the phone to her ear.
“This is Emelia Plater.”
“Emelia,” Jay said, “have you been running?”
Emelia hadn’t even realized that she was breathing hard into the phone and forced a chuckle. “Yes, sorta. You’ve had me so busy, Jay, I’ve been literally running between my office and the lab.”
He didn’t laugh, but instead asked a question that made Emelia’s heart stop cold, “could you come to my office, please?”
“Of course, Jay,” she said, swallowing hard. “I will be right there.”
Emelia lowered the phone from her face and walked out of her office, closing the door securely behind her.
“Come on in,” Jay called to her when he saw her approaching his open doorway. “How are you today, Emelia?”
“Delightful,” she said, putting on her most sincere smile. “How about yourself?”
“Good, good,” he said absentmindedly and gestured for her to take a seat, rocking back to the attending sound of creaking leather. He bent his arms and perched his elbows on the arms of the chair, tapping
his index fingers against his lips as he studied her. The silence was suffocating. He leaned forward to question her again. “How are you, really, Emelia?”
Heart pounding, she replied, “I’m good, Jay. Why do you ask?”
He sighed and sat back again. “I’ve been receiving complaints about you being behind the clock on your workload.”
Emelia opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say. She had been lagging, that was true. She nodded slowly, opting to remain silent.
“Is something going on in your personal life that I need to know about?”
Startled by the question, Emelia paused to gather her thoughts before answering. When she opened her mouth to speak, lies spilled out before she could dam them up. “Yes, there is. My-my grandfather is ailing, he took a fall earlier this week and broke his hip. I’ve been fielding calls from the care center and it’s really been distracting me from my work. I’m sorry, Jay.”
“I am so sorry to hear that, Emelia,” Jay said empathetically. “Would it help if you took some time off?”
“Oh no, no I’m fine. Really. I just need t—” she started.
“Emelia, I’ve been looking over your work and I’m concerned. You’ve made a fair share of mistakes.”
“Mistakes?” Emelia felt like she might vomit. “What did I do?”
Jay turned his computer monitor to face her. “It’s as recent as your last case. The mistakes you made here could have led to the incarceration of an innocent man. If it hadn’t been brought to my attention by Gavin Gint of all people . . .”
It was bad enough that she had screwed up, but the fact that it was Gavin who discovered her error was mortifying.
Emelia nodded slowly, “I don’t know what to say, Jay. I’m sorry doesn’t seem to cut it.”
“It’s not like you to make mistakes like this. You don’t want to take time off, which I can understand, but I think it would be good for you to take tomorrow off and clear your head.”
Though he said it like a suggestion, Emelia knew it wasn’t a suggestion. She nodded again.
Jay continued, “Also, beginning Monday, I will lighten your workload. I want you to slow down and pay more attention to detail. We’ll try that for the time being.”
“Thank you, Jay.” She rose from her seat and headed for the door.
Emelia chastised herself the entire way home, wondering how she could have been so careless. Though still itching to go through the evidence on the Doe cases, regret tugged at her chest. If she could just solve this mystery her life could go back to normal.
As Emelia unlocked her apartment door, her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s good to hear your voice, Emelia, I was worried that I had scared you off.”
“Aleph!” She pushed the door open. “Oh no, not at all! Jay’s just had me so busy this week that I might as well be sleeping at the office. How’ve you been?”
“Good,” he said. “Work has been a little crazy for me as well lately, so I completely understand.”
“Oh yeah? Remind me what it is that you do again?” Emelia set her purse down on the kitchen table and sauntered over to her bedroom.
“I um . . . I work in a big firm downtown. I’m head of the time management branch.”
Emelia frowned. “Huh, I’ve never heard of anything like that before.” She had been so certain that he worked in some sector of the FBI.
“Oh, well it’s nothing special. The only reason that our department was invited to Plume for dinner is because one of the CEOs is good friends with the owner. It’s a rather uninteresting job to be honest, I won’t bore you with the details,” he said, chuckling to himself.
“Well, right now your job has to be more pleasant than mine. I got sent home early today.” Emelia plopped herself down on the bed with an exasperated sigh.
“The Emelia Plater was sent home from work?” Aleph gasped sarcastically into his end of the phone.
“Yeah . . . It was really embarrassing to be honest. I made some careless mistakes that could have led to some drastic consequences.”
“That doesn’t sound like the whiz kid I’ve heard so much about.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’ve been really distracted lately.”
“Something on your mind?” he asked.
“If I told you that I would be the one to scare you off,” Emelia joked.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, I don’t scare very easily. Especially where a beautiful woman is concerned.” He paused and Emelia turned bright red, then he continued, “How about we talk about it over dinner. Sometime soon?”
“That sounds wonderful. I am visiting my grandfather at his care center tomorrow, but any other day next week should work.”
“Sounds wonderful. Unfortunately, I don’t have the budget to take you somewhere quite as fancy as Plume, but I know a few hole-in-the-wall places with food just as good and people twice as bearable.” They both laughed.
“And the alcohol?” she asked.
“Just you wait and see. I promise to buy your drink this time.”
“Well, in that case, any night of the week I’m yours.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said playfully and Emelia snorted.
“Goodnight, Aleph.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
☐ ☐ ☐
Emelia walked out of the assisted living facility the next afternoon toward her car. This week’s visit had been . . . better. Grandpa James was significantly more lucid this time and even seemed to recognize her. Anastasia hadn’t been working either, which Emelia counted as a small bonus. Still, it was difficult. She wanted to tell him about Aleph, but never quite got the chance. On the road, Emelia felt unsettled and decided she needed to visit her grandmother’s grave, pointing her car toward Rock Creek Cemetery. It had been a few months since her last visit, and she felt a little guilty about that.
Emelia purposely chose to enter the property from the opposite end so that she could traverse the entire space, taking in the quiet beauty around her. At the farthest possible point from where she entered, Emelia parked her car and got out to wind her way between grave markers—some were extravagant, others were very simple. Her grandmother’s was elegantly simple and had a bench just a few feet in front of it that Emelia could sit on as she visited.
“Hi . . .” she said. Emelia always felt a little awkward talking to this stone slab in front of her. She didn’t really believe that her grandmother was there, in the ground. Emelia actually didn’t really know what she believed about where her grandmother was, but she knew she wasn’t there.
“Hi, Grandma,” Emelia stared up at the sky, lowering her hands to her lap. “There’s a guy I’ve been seeing, his name is Aleph. He’s really handsome, but what I like most is how considerate he is. I don’t know if you would’ve liked him, he’s a little older.” She chuckled nervously, “I don’t know what I want to do next though. I’m really inexperienced with this sort of stuff. I don’t have the confidence that you had. It’s funny, isn’t it? I can analyze a blood sample for traces of minute compounds, I can cross-check dental records for a corpse that’s been sitting for years, but I don’t know how to ask this guy where his weird name comes from.”
Sighing again, Emelia continued talking at the slab of granite. “There’s also this thing at work. I got obsessed with something my boss doesn’t think is worth my time, and I’ve been trying to be cheerful so I won’t get fired. I . . . know I’m right. I know there’s something important about these cases and I—” She stopped mid-sentence, feeling incredibly awkward. What am I doing? Was she really pretending to be cheery and risking getting fired over a low-priority case? Then she remembered the man who died in front of her, the tattoo on his neck, and the scrap of paper. Find Artemis. The results from the fabric analysis. No, Emelia wasn’t wrong. “Thanks for listening, Grandma,” she said, shuffling in her seat. “I feel better now.” Walking slowly to her car, she smiled a little bit.
10 Changes
She had determined that the “New Emelia,” the character she would play starting that morning, would be someone who was clearly, but nicely, on task and not distracted by things that were none of her business.
That wouldn’t be true, but Emelia couldn’t slip up again if she was going to get to the bottom of things. She couldn’t exactly work on the Doe cases if there was no longer a job in the first place. The first thing Emelia needed to do was regain Jay’s trust. Even if this attitude adjustment was a fake one, she legitimately didn’t want to disappoint the man who gave her a shot in the first place. Sure, he’d probably be disappointed if he learned Emelia was working on a low priority case behind his back, but that was a contradiction she’d have to resolve only if she got caught. If.
New Emelia would wear colors to work, rather than the usual monochromatic wardrobe of greys, blacks, and whites. This morning she wore a pastel yellow shirt of the same material as the white shirts Emelia usually wore, but something about the color of it softened her somehow. Additionally, New Emelia wore her hair down loosely around her shoulders. It was a little bit of work, but she liked how much this one change altered her look.
Stepping off the elevator Emelia was unsurprised to see Gavin loafing nearby. She suspected he would wait for her in the morning just to be brushed off immediately. Well, if there was to be a test of her new facade this was it. She had vowed to herself several times over the weekend that New Emelia was going to be kind to everyone, including Gavin, so she checked herself and put a smile on her face before he saw her.
