Chasing Shadows (25 page)

The naked girl takes my arm. Her touch is a
chilly breath. I notice her hair. Its fire engine red. She is so
beautiful. She's slowing down and I match her pace. We're holding
hands now. The shiny, chilly girl who is exactly my height leads me
off the path. We're in the grass. It feels so good, so cool and
soft to my feet. The wind howls. This is one of those waterfront
parks, but right now it seems a utopia. Artfully spaced trees
rustle in the gale. Their leaves are big black feathers in the
darkness. We walk like Eve and Eve amongst them. I look at the
girl. She meets my eyes. In hers I see love, sadness and
heartbroken beauty. They should wreck me, her eyes, but all I feel
is happiness. I laugh like a child in wonder. She smiles sadly at
me, stopping our walk. Her red hair whips across her face. I reach
over and brush it out of her eyes. Where my fingers touch her skin,
they come back wet and shiny. Now there's a subtle change. The
light shifts and the girl is soaking wet. Her hair hangs lank and
dark with moisture down to her shoulder blades. She tilts her head
and smiles at me again. Water drips off her nose. I see bruises on
her neck.

I inhale deeply. There's a soggy, rotten smell
on the wind but it doesn't affect my happiness. Joy, I feel so much
joy. The girl raises her right arm and presses her hand to my
heart. I look down. Well what do you know? I'm naked too. I
memorize the way her hand looks resting easily between my breasts.
Her finger nails are blue. Is that polish? I look up and she turns
her face out to look over the water. She catches my eye and lifts
her chin towards the bank. I know this park. There's a stone jetty
down there. Does she want me to go there? I raise my eyebrows in a
question but she doesn't start walking, and she doesn't release my
hand, so I relax into this happiness. I stand with her, facing the
water and feeling the wind across my naked self. God, those stars
are amazing. The inky black water shimmers like oil. I feel so
good, so healthy and alive.

Thunk.

I wake with a deep inhale. It's light in my
room. Bright, like the surface of the sun. I know I've been
sleeping well by the big puddle of drool under my face.
Thunk.

"Damn!" The whole bed just bucked like it was
lifted an inch and dropped. "What?" I ask angrily. Now one of my
dresser drawers jostles a couple of times. I'm going out on a limb
here but I'd say someone invisible would like for me to get
dressed. Damn it's bright in here. What day is it? I check my
phone. Wednesday 3 PM. "Whatever." I say and roll back over. I flip
the pillow so its drool side down and snuggle back into it. There's
a tap on my shoulder. I look, like an idiot. No one, of course. I
groan. My hair is pulled.

"Fine!" I shout. "Supernatural pain in the
ass!" I toss my legs over the side of the bed. And now I feel a
little residual soreness in my hoo ha. I smile and picture Qasim's
face for a second. My dresser rattles again. Geeze, good thing I
showered before bed.
Clearly
there won't be time for any
hygiene
shenanigans if I'm going to make whatever dumb ass
meeting with fate the shades have planned today. Flash, I remember
how I made them wait that first night... If I'd been faster would
Madeline be alive? I shiver. Well
that's
a shitty
thought.

On that note, I hop up and scramble around,
throwing my shit together like I'm late for work. I go from sleep
to outside in less than ten minutes. What was I gonna do today?...
Gwen! That's right. The roommates said she worked at Intelligencia.
As I'm trotting down the steps a black bird flies by. It's not
headed for the El. I grown and run my hand down my face.

"Best laid plans." I mutter and I head off to
follow the shadow bird. It leads me west and south. I get to Clark
Street and am hit by a stiff wind. I have to stop and wait for a
red light. As I'm standing on the corner a flyer whips across the
street. I stare at it because I'm not sure it's real. It gets
closer. I hear it flutter, sounds like paper. Its bright pink.
Flash: my leggings on Qasim's floor. Flash: his skin under the
cream colored blankets.

Fwap! The paper hits me in the face. I take
hold of it and stretch for a beat before I read it.
Claudia's
Cafe
is scrawled across the top. Underneath is a picture of a
coffee cup, very original, and some details for a Halloween
promotion. I check the address, Clark Street. Pretty close to here
actually. Who needs another coffee house on Clark Street? Are there
really
that
many indie kids? Of course the answer is, yes
there
are
that many and more. Well, this is trash. I go to
crinkle it up and feel a little tickle behind my ear.

"Is this where we're going?" I ask in a
resigned voice. For and answer I feel a pinch on my side fat. "Ow."
Okay, so maybe Gwen works at Claudia's now. The roommates aren't an
information directory. It surprises me how easy it is to adopt this
new idea as fact. Sure, Gwen Cross works at Claudia's Cafe. A bird
told me so, literally. Hell who knows? Maybe it's not about Gwen.
Maybe the shades are taking me to watch someone
else
die. I
was looking forward to Intelligencia. Claudia's had better measure
up.

According to the flier I have four blocks to
go. I look at my phone. There's a voice mail. It's from one of
those numbers again. I should totally figure out which one's
Qasim's and put him in the address book. The light changes and I
cross the street listening to the automated lady. My heart does a
sweet happy thing at the sound of Qasim's voice.

"Hey Meegan. You're probably sleeping, but I
thought you'd want to know, Kelly used the surname Geoffreys for
her fiancé. Kevin Geoffreys, spelled with a G. Okay, hope that
helps you... You can call me if you want... Ah that sounded stupid.
I'll let you know if I find anything else. See you Friday.
Bye."

I smile and close the phone. This is nice. A
force unseen exhales hot air into my ear and I grin some more. Life
is good. I wonder if anyone's going to die today.

***

I'm walking against the wind. The sun's still
out. It makes all the snow sparkle and shine. There are more people
on the street than I'm entirely comfortable with. I'm on my way to
the coffee house where I think Gwen Cross works. I want to see what
she knows about Madeline and I'm hoping no one kills her. Every few
steps I choke down residual guilt over Luis. Did he die because I
was going to talk to him? I sure hope not, but blaming myself is
convenient.

When I get to the place, I suck in a breath,
adjust my posture to 'confident' and walk my ass inside. There's a
small line. I retrieve some cash from my bag while I'm waiting.
It's nice in here in a hippy-yuppie-white-indie-pop-star kind of
way. The walls are plastered with old concert posters and artsy
black and white photographs. There are six different hanging plants
that I can see from here without turning my head. The plants have
that over-grown, nature-loving look to them. In front of the
counter is a glass case filled with an even mix of sweets and
health snacks. The menu is colored chalk on a black board that's
posted to the wall. I get to the counter and order a black
coffee.

"Anything else?" The trendy looking youth asks
me.

Here it comes, the moment of truth. "Actually
yes." I say. "I was wondering if Gwen's working."

The girl eyes me with disdain. "She's in the
back."

Cool. "Could you tell her I'm here?"

"And you are?" She asks in an unfriendly tone
while handing me my sixteen ounce cup.

What should I say? What will work? "Kelly
Morgan."

Counter girl nods and turns her attention to
the next customer. This leaves me nothing to do but find a seat and
wait it out. I take a spot at one of the uncomfortable little
tables in the center of the seating area. Normally I'd prefer a
booth, but I'd like to stay visible for two reasons. One: So Gwen
can see me when she looks out here. And two: In case Gwen gets
axed, I'll be on the security cameras the entire time and so
hopefully avoid another night at the police station.

I sip my coffee and burn my tongue. "Fuck." I
mutter. Now I won't be able to taste it. I sigh, may as well put
cream and sugar in at this point. I slide my chair back and it
makes one of those horrifying metal on cement noises. This garners
me some looks from the other patrons.
What?
I think at them.
You never do that? All of you are just
so
cool and
so
experienced that you never
produce unsightly noises in public
. I try to avoid eye contact
on my way to and from the creamer bar. When I return to my seat,
Gwen Cross is waiting. She has this irritated look. What did I do
now?

"You're not Kelly Morgan." She says with
attitude.

My eyes bug out. "Really?" She narrows her
gaze. Maybe she thinks I'm being caustic. "Everyone else says I'm
Kelly." I say quietly.

Gwen puts her hands on her hips. "I saw you at
the memorial." I nod. "You knocked over a chair and chased Luis
Finch out of the building."

I turn red. "Sorry."

"So, what do you want?" She glares at
me.

I'm stymied. I think I say something like:
"Ahhhuhhch." Gwen turns to leave. "Wait." I say. "Please. I need
your help."

"Why?"

I'm at a loss. I feel my hands lift palms out.
I must looks like a dying fish. "Cause you must know something."
I'm pleading. I can hear it in my voice.

"Who are you?" She demands.

"My name is Meegan Jones, or at least it has
been for the last three years. You're sister called me Kelly, and
I've been running around town trying to figure out who Kelly is,
and who Madeline was, and why people keep getting murdered, and if
it had anything to do with me."

Gwen looks confused now. Whatever she'd been
expecting, my little confession wasn't it. "You do look a little
like Kelly, but you're not her."

"How do you know?" I ask gravely. She shrugs
and looks down. Is that shame I see? "Please." I say softly. "Will
you tell me what you can? I keep finding dead people, and people
who think they know me. I just need to figure out what's going
on."

Gwen meets my eyes. She looks calmer now. "My
shift ends in twenty minutes. You can wait for me."

"Thanks." I say. "I'll be in a booth." The
twenty minutes oozes by like molasses in January. I'm not sure
where I picked up that phrase, but it fits. Eventually Gwen slides
into the booth across from me. She removes her apron and folds her
hands on the table.

"What do you want to know? Not that I'm
promising you anything. Mads only ever told me just so
much."

I shrug. "She never told me anything. All I
know is what I read in the paper. I tried to find out what Luis
Finch knew, but he got killed before I could talk to
him."

Gwen's eyes go wide. "Luis is dead?" I nod.
"Well, first off," Gwen says. "The arrest was a joke. Madeline was
dating some cop, she wouldn't say who, and he wanted her to settle
down. She told me that much. She thought it was funny." Gwen
shrugs. "She was like that. She loved attention, especially from
men. He asked her to marry him, and she laughed in his
face."

I sigh, motive? "Okay, but no name on that guy.
You think Luis knew something?"

Gwen fidgets a little. "He must've if he's
dead."

I shake my head. "If those guys loved her, why
would either of them kill her?" It sounds naive even as I'm saying
it.

Gwen stares at me. "Mads didn't attract normal
men. I mean she did, but she never went for them. Madeline tended
to generate stalkers; she loved that. She'd lead them on and drive
them out of their minds. She was not a nice girl."

"But you were going to Loyola to be with
her."

Gwen gives a curt little head shake. "To try
and keep and eye on her. Our parents were begging me."

"Oh."

"Oh is right. Don't get me wrong. I loved her.
I loved her way too much. The whole world revolved around her, but
I'm really mad at her for getting herself killed. She was brilliant
you know it? Straight A's. She'd have been a hell of a
lawyer."

I tuck my hair behind my ears. "Did you ever
meet Kelly?"

Gwen nods. "Once."

"Was Kelly her real name?"

"I don't know. She was kind of quiet when I met
her, and then I never saw her again."

"And she looked enough like me that people
think I'm her?"

Gwen shrugs. "You're not." She's avoiding my
eyes again.

I'm sure she knows more. I chafe inwardly. I
don't know how to wheedle information out of people. Everything
I've learned so far has been by virtue of mistaken identity. "Is
there anything else? Anything you can tell me that might help me
out here?" I'm begging again, this sucks.

"Yeah." Gwen says. "Move far away. If people
think you're Kelly then they'll..." She stops. "You should just
keep your head down. You don't want to be in this if it blows
up."

"Blows up how?"

Gwen looks at me with pity. "I believe Madeline
had something good on someone terrible. I think she was going to a
reporter. At least, the morning after she died there was a reporter
who called for her. I'm not sure where Kelly figured in, but I know
she did. I don't have any proof, and I'm not trying to get any, but
I believe Mads got killed to keep her quiet, and maybe Kelly... I
don't know. It's Meegan, right?" I nod. "Well, Meegan, you should
stay out of it. I sure as shit won't come to a memorial for
you."