Chasing Shadows (28 page)

I take a deep breath and stand to follow. This
is not stealthy at all. The crunch of the snow is as loud as any
noise I've ever heard. I approach the fence. I check it for
weaknesses and don't find any. I'm going to have to go over. The
fence is about five feet high. I doubt my ability to scale it. I
have precious little upper arm strength. I wish I worked out more,
make that ever. I grab the top of the fence and prepare to
embarrass myself, when Schuyler comes up behind me and boosts me
over. Now
he
has upper arm strength. I flip awkwardly and
land on my ass in the snow. Schuyler's crossing is much more suave.
He looks like a big cat as he lands smoothly beside me. I smile. I
like watching him move.

The pearly light is waiting for us. It floats
directly in front of my face for a moment, before billowing to the
brick wall and sliding down it until I can't see it anymore. I
scooch forward to check it out. When I get closer to the building,
I can see that the basement windows are below ground level. There's
one every five or ten feet down the side of the building, and
they're recessed into little cement boxes which have partially
filled with snow. I look left and it's a straight shot to the
street. There's only one little leafless bush between us and a view
of the sidewalk. I feel exposed. Oh well, there's nothing for
it.

I sigh and reach down into the cement box to
touch the window. I feel around its edges. It wiggles a bit for me,
but I can't reach all the way down. With a soft groan I zip up my
jacket and lay on my stomach in the snow. Fuck its cold. Now I can
reach, lovely. My jeans are no comfort in this position. I wish I'd
worn leggings. With my right fingers I grab the bottom of the
window frame and pull up. Its moves easily, giving out a tiny
creak. I open it as far as it will go, which is about two and a
half feet. Cool. I hop down into the box, and am about to sit down
in the snowy thing so I can let myself into the building, when
Schuyler catches hold of my arm.

"What are you doing?" He hisses.

"Breaking into Luis Finch's house." I answer
calmly.

"You don't know that. This could be anyone's
house. It's too big to be a house."

"Schuyler, relax." I touch his arm. "You're
right. This place could be anything or anyone's, but I'm supposed
to go in. You don't have to come with me. You could pull the car
around the block and wait for me." I remove his hand from my arm,
turn and sit shoving my legs through the open window. With a big
exhale I push myself into the abyss and try not to think scary
thoughts. I scrape across the ledge on my way in and land hard on
my feet in the blackness. What feels like a hand caresses my cheek
and I shiver. I think I see a dark human shape in the blackness. It
reminds me of the first night. I blink, trying to get my eyes to
adjust, trying to remain calm. I step forward and my legs hit
something hard. I hear Schuyler grumbling for a moment, but he
follows me. Tha whump, he's in, and clatter, the window slides shut
behind him.

"Fuck." He whispers. I pull out my phone and
open it so it serves as a flashlight. I sigh with relief. The hard
thing I'm standing against is a table we almost knocked over. That
would've been loud. "What now?" Schuyler whispers.

"Shhh." I say and wait. I hear a little flicker
to my right. I turn. The phone goes dim so I close it and open it
again to relight the screen. I take a few tentative steps forward
and find myself facing a door. My eyes are finally adjusting. The
basement is all odd shapes and stacks of things. I take one last
look around and open the door. Two feet behind it is a black
curtain. Okay. I sigh and push it aside, more darkness. Schuyler
puts his hand on my shoulder. I reach up and clasp it. Now I take
another step forward. Something flat and light smacks my face as I
walk into it. It brushes aside. Phone goes out again, Christ! I
close and open it angrily, winning us a few more moments of
illumination. We're in a tiny room. I hear something flutter above
me. I shine the phone upwards. There are lots of shapes, pieces of
paper, their glossy surfaces reflecting the blue light. Amongst
them I see a light bulb with a chain pull. I smile and pull
it.

We're flooded with red light. All around us,
photographs hang from clothes lines. It's a dark room, like on TV.
I didn't know anyone even used darkrooms anymore. I though the
whole world had gone digital. Show's what I know. I look at
Schuyler. He looks good red. For a second I want to forget that I'm
on a mission, and wrap my arms around his neck. Is this why they
call it a red light district? Schuyler's face is a lovely picture
of disbelief. I smile and whisper. "Look around. There has to be
something here worth finding."

He shakes himself and bypasses, what I would
think is the obvious choice of, looking at the pictures hanging
right in our faces. He beelines to the back of the room where there
is a fat black book on a table.

"It's a drying book." He says. "You put
pictures in there to dry faster when you don't want to wait for
them to drip dry."

Okay whatever. While he's doing that I look at
what's right in front of me. These are night shots of various
buildings around the city. They don't look too interesting to me
until I see my own building among them... I move to the next row.
There's Schuyler's building. There's me. Holy shit! It's a photo of
me in the lobby of Schuyler's building. I hold my breath and hurry
up. Suddenly all the locations are familiar. I move further in, and
am less than happy to see my own face captured again and again.
There's me at work, taken from the street outside. There's me on
the El with my headphones on. There I am on the bus. There I am on
my steps talking on the phone.

"Holy Fuck." I murmur. There I am in bed.
"Schuyler." I hiss. He comes back and I point to the one of me in
bed.

"Shit." He says.

"Yeah. If this isn't Luis Finch's stuff, than
it's my stalker's. Damn it. I didn't even know I
had
a
stalker."

Schuyler puts his arm around my shoulder while
taking in the room. "How long had Luis even known about
you?"

I shrug. "First time I saw him was when
Madeline died. These are all recent though see? My hair is striped
in every one, and that only happened two weeks ago. It could be
Luis. I hope its Luis."

Schuyler squeezes my shoulder. "There are three
pictures in the drying book, and you should look at
them."

Dazed, I follow Schuyler to the back of the
room. The red light is starting to creep me out. We approach the
book and Schuyler flips it open. The first photo is of Madeline
Cross and a girl who could be me. I guess its Kelly Morgan. They're
small in the frame. Looks like it could have been taken across a
parking lot. Both of them are dressed in skimpy, shiny dresses with
little fur wraps over their shoulders. They're stepping away from a
limo. I flip it back and riffle through the tissue paper drying
pages 'til I get to the next shot. It's the same two girls boarding
a well lit yacht. There's a man on deck smiling down at them. I
don't recognize him, but he's in a tuxedo. The shot has been
cropped. I can tell because the edges are crisp and straight not
the fuzzy, artsy shit you see on photos that have no cropping,
thank you discovery channel. I bite my lip and turn further back.
This one is just Madeline. It's a day time shot. She's wearing the
same dress as before and walking down a peer. She still looks good
but her makeup is smeared at the edges and she's all alone. The
expression on her face is numb. She looks like a car crash
survivor. I can imagine she might be staggering a little. It
doesn't take a lot to put the pieces together. This was the night
Kelly disappeared.

I remember watching Madeline die. She told that
big blond man that he killed Kelly. He told her that Kelly fucked
every man on that boat. Jesus. Was this the day I washed up on the
beach? Her dress is awfully little for February but then I was
found naked so I guess that doesn't mean anything. I look close,
checking for goose bumps on Madeline. Her nipples are hard but that
doesn't prove anything. They did wear those fur wraps. Is that a
call girls accommodation to the blasting winds of February in
Chicago? I've seen the hookers by Home Depot in the morning, and
they wear coats like everybody else. I'm lost in contemplation. I
can hear Schuyler rustling around, but I'm staring at Mads. She
looks fragile. Did she know she was being photographed? Jessica,
the girl at the memorial, said that Luis Finch had only been
stalking Madeline for a few months. Is this shot from three years
ago, or just a few months ago? Either Luis had been watching Mads
for years before he got caught, or I'm not Kelly Morgan... my
thoughts are cut short.

"Meegan, come see this." Schuyler's not
whispering anymore.

I shake myself and join him at the central
table where he's pulled out a big box of photographs. "Where'd you
get those?"

He points. "Cabinet. See if you recognize any
of these people."

I look at the pictures. Madeline is in every
single one. It seems like a catalogue of people she's been seen
with. I flip through intently. I recognize the roommates in a few
shots, and Jessica too. There aren't any other shots of Kelly. The
men, what can I say? They all look at least ten years older than
Madeline.

"Some of them look familiar but only vaguely."
I keep looking. "Damn." I whisper.

"What?"

"This guy." It's a nice photo. Mads is
laughing. She's sitting on a park bench, and she has her arms
around a man, a very big, hulking, blond man with a crew cut. He's
laughing too. I get a chill. I set the picture to one side and keep
flipping. Four photos later, there he is again. I set it with the
other one. I'm frantic now, riffling through stack after stack and
weeding out every single shot that has him in it. There are so
many. "It's his eyes." I hear my voice crack. I clear my throat.
"That was what I really got to see, his eyes. This is him. He's the
man who killed her. Holy Fuck."

"You sure?" Schuyler asks.

I meet his eyes. "So sure... Not that it'd hold
up in court or anything, I mean what was I doing there? But that's
the guy."

Schuyler nods. "Let's take one of
these."

"Okay." I say. "But what about the ones of me?
Should we get those too?"

He shakes his head. "Too many, and the
negatives will be here somewhere. We can't erase you from the room.
We couldn't even carry them all without looking
suspicious."

I sigh. "Okay. So... you think this is Luis's
place right?" I pick up two shots of crew cut man and tuck them in
my jacket. Damn I need a smoke.

Schuyler brushes my blue streak behind my ear.
"Yeah I think so."

I nod. I'm a bit shaken up. "Me too. Let's get
out of here."

"Sounds good."

"Wish we had a flash light."

He laughs. "Yeah and the window closed when I
came in. I'm not tall enough to reach it anyway."

I shrug. "If it's Luis's place, no one's going
to be home. Maybe we could just leave out the front
door."

He shakes his head. "You don't know. He could
have roommates, or he could live with his mom. This building is
awfully big for a single residence. It could be
apartments."

"Let's hope it is, easier to leave that way." I
open my phone and head through the curtain and out the door. We
tiptoe through the basement, going in circles a bit, until we find
some stairs. Then I lead Schuyler up. He seems nervous, and somehow
that helps me to remain calm. The stairs end at a heavy metal door.
I turn the knob slowly, not wanting to make any noise, in case
we're exiting into someone's kitchen. The door eases open. Light
spills in on us. It seems desperately bright compared to the
basement. I hold my breath and step out. I'm in a wide hallway. No,
it's a vestibule, a public looking vestibule. To my left is a
concrete stairwell going up and across from it an elevator. Beyond
these are double doors with big glass panels in them. I can see the
sidewalk. I motion for Schuyler to come out. He does, and I nod at
the exit. Schuyler looks around nervously. I grab his hand and walk
with my head held high to the double doors. When in doubt, pretend
you belong. It's a philosophy that's gotten me out of plenty of
trouble.

We exit the building, and trot down the five
cement steps with big smiles on our faces. Schuyler laughs, giddy
and relieved. I hug him warmly.

"Come on. I think we need to circle the block
this way." I lead us left. When we're a couple of houses down I
stop to light up and take stock.

Schuyler wraps his arm around me and kisses my
head. "That was awesome." He whispers.

I look up at him. "Really? You're just saying
that because nobody died."

He meets my eyes and holds them. "You should
see yourself, when you're seeing what you see... It's
terrifying."

I balk and laugh. "Thanks."

"Hey!" A voice calls. I jump. Its some man I
don't know. "Hey!" He shouts again as he's crossing the street to
get to us.

"Should we run?" Schuyler whispers.

I shake my head. "Play it cool." I mutter.
"What?" I say to the guy.

He slips a little on the ice as he gets to us.
This guy is normal looking in the extreme. Balding, white, pudgy,
jeans, brown jacket, a person you would never notice. "Who are
you?" He demands. "You don't live there. What were you doing in
that building?"