by G. R. Lyons
He paused, and Asenna waved her hand impatiently, telling him to continue.
“Chief put me to work,” he went on, “odd jobs around the house, then running errands for the agency over there in Oaks Pass. After a while, he paid for me to go back to school, and I kept working in the afternoons, earning some money to pay him back for everything he'd done for me. Eventually, the spare bedroom sort of just became my own by unspoken agreement, and his home became my home. He's pretty much my father for all intents and purposes.” He paused, laughing to himself. “Sure made things interesting when it came to asking him to date his daughter.”
Charlie winked at Asenna, and had just a second to regret the action before he saw her eyes go wide.
“Oh, shit, so you're–”
She cut off, snapping her mouth shut, and shot out of the chair, looking suddenly busy as she straightened things that were already straight and arranged things that were already right where they should be.
“I'm what?” he asked her.
Asenna smoothed down the sheets on the bed at the other side of the room, the surface already perfectly flat and even, then stopped with a sigh and turned to face him, all the empty aloofness drained from her face and replaced by genuine concern.
“You're that Detective Crawford,” she said quietly. “The one who married Chief's daughter. The one who found his wife's body after she was kidnapped from her wedding. The one who…went a little crazy, obsessing over finding her attacker.”
Charlie looked away, bits of his dream flashing through his mind.
“Yeah, that's me.”
“Gods, Crawford, I'm so sorry.”
Charlie looked up at her, seeing her shift her weight as she stood there, fidgeting with her hands.
“Are you sure this is the right place for you?” she asked. “Maybe this isn't such a good idea.”
“Why's that?”
She grimaced, hesitating, then went back to the recliner and sank into it with a sigh.
“I have visions of her attack sometimes,” she said gently.
Charlie nodded. “I know. Chief told me.”
“Oh.” She frowned, looking down at her hands, then glanced up at him. “Yet you're here anyway? Why?”
He shrugged. “Figured this was my last shot at getting some answers. Maybe we'll find something we missed. Or maybe we'll catch the bastard when he goes after someone else. He's still out there, somewhere.”
Asenna nodded absently, her face blank. “I know. We've got a pile of unsolved cases, all similar enough to suspect they were all the same guy. It's the unsolved ones that keep coming back to me. Over and over, the same visions. The same rapes, the same tortures, the same screams. It's like I'm missing something and they just keep coming back until I find it. Like, the ghosts can't rest until their killers are found.”
Charlie snorted a laugh. “Ghosts. I don't believe in ghosts.”
Asenna blinked, coming out of her blank stare and raising an eyebrow at him.
“Around here? You'd better start.”
* * *
BENASH PACED his office most of the day, anxious about how Charlie would react if Asenna had a vision. He wasn't sure the man was truly prepared for what he would see in that room, but he knew Charlie was right.
They both needed answers, and through Asenna was probably the best way to get them.
Charlie looked unsettled as he left for the day, making a great effort to keep himself together, and Benash went home feeling unusually weary, worn down by his worry and his other duties.
He let the car do most of the driving as he crossed town, his mind too full to concentrate much on navigating the streets.
He almost would have preferred walking.
Benash looked out at the setting suns, memories of the old days of walking down the forest path, to and from work, rising up out of nowhere. He looked around at the bustling, prosperous city, shaking his head at the direction his life had gone thanks to a simple choice at a fork in the road.
The car pulled itself into the garage, shut itself off, and let him out. Benash gathered his things and approached the door from the garage to the laundry room. It swung open as it recognized the digital key in his pocket, and he stepped inside, the lights popping on as he entered the room.
Benash pushed the door shut behind him, kicked off his shoes, and shuffled into the kitchen, where he dropped his briefcase next to the stove. He loosened his tie and braced his hands on the edge of the counter as he looked around.
The house was silent, and looked to be empty.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered, “Please tell me you're here.”
Letting his chin fall to his chest, he opened his eyes and saw a pair of arms circle his waist from behind.
“I'm always here…”
Chapter 5
WHEN THE nightmare woke him an hour before his alarm and he couldn't get back to sleep, Charlie got up and dressed and went to the office early.
He headed straight through the main room and toward the elevator in the back, joining two other officers who stood waiting for the car.
“Crawford, right?” Detective Malrin asked as the doors opened and they stepped inside.
“Yeah,” Charlie responded, shaking hands.
“Crawford, this is Lehinis,” Malrin introduced, and the two men shook. “He also used to be in S.P.I.R.I.T. Division.”
“Oh, that's right,” Lehinis said. “You're the new glutton for punishment.”
“That's what I hear,” Charlie said, and the three men laughed, stepping off the elevator and heading toward the training room.
“Up for a shooting contest?” Lehinis asked.
“Sounds good to me.”
The three men entered their passcodes and retinal scans and went straight to the firing range, taking booths side-by-side and calling up weapons.
“Oh, look,” Malrin said, pointing across the room. “The Spirit's been here again.”
Charlie looked up and saw a few used targets still hanging against the wall, one with a perfect line of six shots straight down the center of the torso, and the others all with precise bullseyes to the forehead and heart.
“Spirit?” Charlie asked, checking his weapon as it rose up from the conveyor.
“Asenna,” Lehinis said. “She's a damned good shot. Kinda terrifying, actually. Never known a woman to shoot like that before.”
“Yeah, definitely wouldn't want to get on her bad side!” Malrin said with a laugh.
Lehinis checked his weapon and pressed a button to make the used targets disappear, saying, “She'd be a good one to stay away from when she's cycling, if you know what I mean. Combination of her aim and PMS would be beyond deadly.”
“And she's quick,” Malrin added. “Amazing reaction time, that one. Not too brilliant with distractions, though.”
Charlie looked over at Malrin, curious as to the amused tone in the man's voice.
“How so?” he asked.
Malrin and Lehinis shared a look, both turning toward him with grins on their faces.
“How about a wager?” Malrin said. “We'll run Chaos Mode. Whoever shoots the best gets drinks on the other two down at the bar tonight.”
“I'm game,” Lehinis said, pressing another button.
Charlie kept his face carefully blank. “Sounds good.”
Malrin and Lehinis shared another grin, and Charlie turned to face the room, holding his gun ready as the lights all went out at once.
He took a deep breath and waited, slowly raising his arms.
The room exploded in a crash of noise and flashes of light, a simulation of a battle in a lightning storm, designed to scare and confuse and distract the shooters.
Charlie took another breath, scanned the room as the lights flashed on and off, and took four rapid shots, just registering the sounds of his coworkers doing the same.
The simulation ended, the sound cutting off abruptly and the lights slowly coming up so they could see the resul
ts of their aim, the system coloring each hit to match each man's gun.
Charlie looked down, seeing red assigned to Malrin, green to Lehinis, and blue to himself. He looked back up at the dummies, and a smile slowly spread on his face.
“Well I'll be damned,” Malrin said, shaking his head as he took in the sight of four dummy targets with blue-colored holes going straight through the heart, while the red and green wounds were far wide of their intended marks. “How in seven hells did you do that?”
Charlie grinned. “You'd be surprised what you can learn to do when Chief makes it a condition for marrying his daughter.”
“Well bloody fucking hells, Crawford,” Lehinis said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I dare say you could give the Spirit a run for her money. Maybe you'll actually survive what goes on in there.”
“I don't know about that,” Malrin said, returning his gun to the conveyor and ending the session. “He hasn't witnessed a vision yet.”
“She said the same thing,” Charlie noted as the men left the room and headed for the elevator.
“All I can say is brace yourself, man,” Lehinis said, and Malrin nodded agreement. “There is some fucking freaky shit that goes on in that room.”
* * *
ASENNA WOKE and switched on the wallscreen on her way to the kitchenette to make breakfast.
“Good morning, Detective Shyth,” the computer greeted her.
“Open unsolved case list,” Asenna said over her shoulder while pouring cereal into a bowl.
The appropriate icon flashed once and the file opened, showing a list of cases she'd compiled that were yet to be closed. She glanced over her shoulder at the screen, grimacing at the sight of the ever-growing list of names. Not since the abolition of government on Agoran had there ever been so many unsolved cases, but with all the strange murders occurring in the past few years, the list had gotten out of control.
She scanned the list until she came to the bottom, the last item being a file that Eastside Security had shared with them, as the victim had been their client. Asenna added milk to her cereal and leaned back against the counter with a sigh.
“Edit list,” she said, and the screen drew a second outline around the list, showing it was in edit mode. “Add entry.” A new space opened up below the last item. “Wakler, Lesa.” The letters typed themselves out, and Asenna said, “Search database for file.”
“Searching,” the computer responded, and a second later an icon flashed on the screen. “File acquired. Wakler, Lesa.”
“Attach to new item and save.”
The icon shifted over to the new name on the list, dissolved into it, and flashed green, the list coming out of edit mode.
Asenna took a few bites of her cereal, reading the list over again, her eyes stopping on one item in particular.
“List item: Crawford, Saira,” she said, and the computer highlighted the name. “Open file.”
A small window flashed open and then disappeared, replaced by a red box.
“File in use,” the computer said. “Access denied.”
Asenna dropped her spoon into her bowl. “Fuck, not again.” She cleared her throat and repeated the order, but the computer returned the same response.
“Why is this file always restricted?” she asked aloud to herself.
“File in use,” the computer answered.
“Yes, thank you. You're very helpful.” She took another bite of cereal. “Who is using the file?”
“Searching,” the computer said, then beeped. “Rothbur, Benash.”
“Fuck,” Asenna grumbled, taking another bite of cereal. She looked up at the screen and said, “Access check, all list items.”
The computer searched, and highlighted all names except Saira Crawford. “All indicated items currently available for access and edits.”
Asenna turned her back on the screen and finished her cereal, methodically washing her spoon and bowl when she was done and putting them back in their proper places. She glanced at the screen as she walked over to the couch, the one unmarked name glaring at her, and she half considered going down to Records to get the physical evidence herself.
She turned toward the door, took one step toward it, and stopped. Her heartbeat quickened, and as she waited, she could just make out the sounds of officers arriving for work and filling up the space downstairs.
“Maybe later,” she said with a gasp, backing away from the door and slowly lowering herself onto the couch, taking a few deep breaths until her heart slowed back down.
A few minutes later, Detective Crawford knocked and slowly entered the room, peeking around the door before he fully opened it.
“Good morning,” he greeted with a smile.
“Morning, Crawford.” She looked him over and chuckled. “Who won the shooting match?”
He pulled up short. “What? How'd you know about that?”
“I know Malrin and Lehinis like to go down there in the mornings, and there's nothing they like better than showing up the new guy. Besides, I can see it on you.”
Crawford looked down at himself, then up at her with a puzzled expression. “How? Where?”
Asenna chuckled, picking up a magazine. “And you call yourself a detective.”
He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, and said, “I showed them up, by the way. Chaos Mode.”
“Fuck,” she groaned, slapping the magazine back down on the coffee table. She looked him over again, seeing the confidence in his expression. “Let me guess. Right through the heart, every one.”
Crawford nodded and sank into a chair, smiling at her.
Asenna groaned and rolled her eyes, taking up the magazine again and slapping it down on her lap.
“So what's all this?” Crawford asked, pointing up at the screen, and Asenna looked up in time to see his eyes scanning down the list of names. “Are these– Oh.”
His eyes fixed on the screen, his wife's name standing out clearly as the only red box amongst all the green highlights.
“Close list,” Asenna barked at the screen, and the list shrank back to just an icon. Crawford stared at the screen a moment longer before he looked away. “Sorry, Crawford.”
He shook his head, took a deep breath, and forced on a smile. “It's alright. Part of the job. One of these days I'll get used to it. Sorry, was I interrupting anything?”
Asenna shook her head. “No, just updating some files. My research has gotten away from me lately.”
“Research?”
“Unsolved cases. Trying to figure out what in seven hells I'm missing. Why we can't ID this guy.”
Crawford looked up at the screen, took a deep breath, and asked, “Anything I can do?”
Asenna raised an eyebrow at him, tossed the magazine aside, leaned forward to straighten it on the table, and said, “If you're up for it.”
He shrugged. “Nothing else to do, right?”
She glanced over at the bed, then down at the loose robe she wore, and nodded. Might as well fill the time until or unless a vision occurred.
“Computer,” she called, “open unsolved case list.”
The computer complied, the icon flashing and the list filling the screen again.
“Open all accessible items,” she ordered. “Hologram mode.”
The list split into several individual icons, showing up brightly as the rest of the screen faded into the background, and Asenna raised her hands, throwing the icons off the screen and out into the air. She pointed at individual icons to shift them around until they were in a straight line, then gave a nod to Crawford.
“Have at it,” she said, picking a file and opening it up while Crawford did the same beside her, both of them working around the one red icon that couldn't be accessed.
CHARLIE OPENED a file and started reading, flipping through reports and images and spreading things out mid-air while he learned about the victim. He went through every piece of evidence in the file and then tossed it aside, opening another, all the while trying to keep hi
s eyes from sliding over to the red icon bearing Saira's name.
“Gods, I didn't know there were so many,” he muttered, looking at all the holographic files suspended across the room.
Next to him, Asenna nodded as she reached out, pointing at a file and tossing it over toward him. “This is the newest. Happened just a few days ago, right before you came here.”
Charlie grabbed the file and expanded it, reading the preliminary data about the victim and her murder.
“Lesa Wakler. Forty-three. Never married. No children. Occupation: nurse at an orphanage for boys. No complaints, no suits, no late payments on her bills. What reason could anyone possibly have to kill her?”
Asenna shrugged. “Gods-damned if I know, but someone most definitely did.”
Charlie turned back to the file, flipping through a few reports and digital images of physical evidence before closing the file and shifting it out of the way.
“This is sickening.”
“Yeah?” Asenna scoffed. “Try actually– Oh. Shit. Never mind. Forgot who I was talking to.”
Charlie looked over at her, and they both looked up at Saira's file. He started to reach for it, but Asenna shot out her hand first, grabbing the holographic icon and tossing it back onto the screen so it rested there by itself, out of reach.
She gave him a sympathetic look, and said, “Chief's got it open on his unit, so we can't access it right now, anyway.” She paused, then added, “He does that a lot. I've never managed to catch this file when he wasn't using it. One of these days he's going to have to let go of his grief long enough to stop obsessing over the details.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows at her. “As if it were that easy.”
Asenna grimaced and turned back to the files, idly shifting them around without opening another one.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I'm not very good at this. I usually just have a detective in here who can look at each case like a job rather than a person. I guess I tend to forget about the emotional element.”
“It's alright,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “I guess I've got the opposite problem, in that case, because all I can think about when I see these files are all the people in my position. Waiting for answers.”
