Chasing Shadows (35 page)

I exhale loudly, and make some involuntary
grimace, as my ribs scream up at me. Grimacing hurts my mouth and
nose. I go to move my head, and my upper arm gives me agony. I
shift my leg and my crotch throbs. Hot tears stream down my face. I
blink them away.

Ah, there's the problem. The little gray guy,
who is incidentally not gray anymore, is crouched on my chest. He's
rocking rhythmically back and forth. As I stare at him, his big
saucer eyes blink dramatically. Get off me, I think at him...
Nothing.

"Get off." I whisper. The little guy gingerly
steps to his right, my left and sits down on the pillow by my head.
He rests his knobby hand on my forehead and continues to stare. I
breathe slowly, evenly. He strokes my hair. I close my eyes. When I
open them again, the little creature is curled up next to my face
and there's a big, dark, person-shaped shadow looming left over
both of us. I raise my sights without moving my head. Is that a
real person? It shifts like a leaf in the wind.

"Eh hem." says a voice somewhere to my
right.

I turn my eyes, moving my head only slightly.
It makes me wince but not that bad. I blink a few times, before I
can place them. "Officers Burns and Clark." I say but my voice
comes out a crackle.

"Miss Jones." Says Officer Burns.

I smile, which hurts. "I'm in trouble again?"
Its so weird laying here with everyone looming over me, two
Officers to my right and two shades to my left. I feel vulnerable.
I don't like it. I'm acutely aware of the pain in my hoo ha. I hear
the sound of wings, and snap my head towards it. "Ah fuck." I
whine. That hurt.

"You should try to lie still." Officer Clark
says.

I look to the left... nothing. Well, the shadow
man is gone. The tiny dude is still curled up by my head. "What do
you want?" I croak.

"To ask you a few questions." Burns says in a
steely voice.

Why does this woman hate me? "Do we have to do
this now?"

"The sooner, the better. We found you with the
body of a dead police Officer."

I roll my eyes. "Let me guess, you think I did
it." Burns just stares at me.

Officer Clark seems increasingly uncomfortable.
"We know you didn't kill Harley." He bursts out. "It was clearly an
accident, although for you it was a very lucky accident. We just
need to find out what happened before he died."

I take a couple of slow breaths and turn to the
tiny creature. "Yes. It was lucky." That's what I'll call you, I
think at him, Luck. I don't know if he hears my thoughts, but he
grins that big, creepy grin at me none the less. I turn back to the
officers. "How did I get here?"

"Playing amnesiac again?" Burns
counters.

I groan. "Get a life, Burns. I remember passing
out tied to a pole. I remember everything you want to know. I just
don't know how I got to a hospital. This is a hospital isn't it? I
haven't seen any doctors."

"They've seen you." Clark smiles
kindly.

I smile back weakly. "So, will you tell me?"
I'm pleading with my eyes, but I don't know if its gonna come off
that way as I'm guessing I'm pretty banged up.

Clark maintains eye contact. "Officer Burns
thought your behavior at the bar was strange."

Burns snorts.

Clark tries not to smile. "We paid our tab and
came out to follow you, but you were gone."

Burns nods. "I noticed Sturgis watching you,
and I saw your reaction to him but we didn't have any reason to
suspect him of anything at the time."

Now I snort, which hurts, so I wince, totally
ruining the effect.

Burns glares at me. "
If
you had been
more forthcoming during
any
of our previous conversations,
we would've known to watch Sturgis."

I bat my eyelashes like I have no idea what she
means.

"So." Burns continues "How did you find the
darkroom?"

"Why does it keep coming back to the darkroom?
Fuck the darkroom." Luck chooses this moment to creep quietly down
to the foot of the bed. Now I can see all three of them. If the
police Officers can see my new friend, they make no sign of it. I
guess I spend several seconds too long staring at the little guy,
because Burns clears her throat expectantly. I look at her. "So how
did you find me?" Burns crosses her arms.

Clark hinges his thumbs into his belt loops and
looks squarely at me. "Your friend called in some
information."

"Friend?"

"Mr. Schuyler Mills."

"Actually, it was Grey." Burns
corrects.

"Grey?"

"You don't know Schuyler's father?" Demands
Burns, suspicion clear in her voice.

I sigh and wince with the pain, closing my eyes
for a second. When I open them, Luck is chewing his nails. He looks
worried. "I always call him Mr. Mills." Luck breathes a sigh of
relief.

Clark nods like this is right. "They brought a
photo from the darkroom we found. Schuyler said you had reason to
believe Harley was involved with Luis Finch."

Now I'm glaring. "He killed Luis and Madeline."
I grumble. "What're you afraid to admit it?"

Burns's shoulders visibly stiffen. "How do you
know that Miss Jones?"

I groan. "He told me so." My memory is snapped
back to Evan's rationalizing, rambling confession. I can hear Burns
is still saying something but I can't tell, and don't care
what.

The pain is rolling over me in waves now. I
look desperately down towards my feet. I see Luck down there. Man,
he needs some clothes. I feel so sorry for him. He's naked, and he
obviously doesn't know anybody or else why would he be sticking
with me? Big, fat tears trickle over my swollen face, some for Luck
and some for me. Luck blinks and gives a wry kind of smile, so
different from the grins at the murder scene. He looks like he's
speaking now. I can just make out a few tiny syllables, but Officer
Burns is still talking. She's drowning him out and I hate her for
it. I look hard at Luck, desperately trying to hear. His fingers
twitch in time with his words. Maybe it's not English... And now he
stops. His mouth closes with some finality and I feel... better. I
feel a little better. I smile and begin to breathe more
easily.

I lift my eyes to the Officers but it takes
effort. "What?" I ask sweetly. Burns growls, or does she? Did I
make that up? "Aaron." I sigh. "Your friend hates me." I close my
eyes and its work to open them again. Officer Clark, Aaron now I
suppose, opens his mouth to say something but he doesn't even get a
word out, before an entire entourage of men come traipsing into the
room. There's a well dressed, tall man who's got that distinctive V
shape I associate with Schuyler. There's another well dressed man,
this one short and pale. There's a man in scrubs and Ah... There's
my Schuyler, looking worried with big circles under his eyes. I
smile at him. "Hey Schuyler." I croak.

He crosses the room in three strides. "Meegan."
He breathes. Geeze he's pretty choked up. He turns to the man in
scrubs. "What are these two doing here?!" He demands waving at the
officers. Damn I've never heard him yell that loud. "Why is she
being questioned without her lawyer? Why isn't she prepped for
surgery? You said you were about to fix her arm. How is it she's
lying here in pain?"

"The the police requested..." The man in scrubs
stammers.

The tall, well dressed, man lays a hand on
Schuyler's shoulder. He has white hair, and features you'd find in
a classic painting. "Schuyler, control yourself." He says it
softly, but there's a bite to his words. Now he turns and in an
intimidating and reasonable tone he addresses the police.
"Detectives Burns and Clark, am I right?"

They nod.

"We would like to thank you so much for finding
our Meegan."
Our Meegan,
what the fuck? "I would like to
introduce you to Mr. Abraham, our family attorney. He is also
representing Miss Jones."

And here I tune him out. Must be Schuyler's
dad. I look up at Schuyler. Goddamn I'm glad to see him. I'd reach
for his hand but he's standing on my right. "Schuyler." I whisper.
His whole body jerks around with rapt attention. I smile, that's
nice. "Come around here so I can hold your hand, dude." He obeys
me, but without a smile. What is that look? His jaw is clenched. He
looks furious and something else. "Are you okay?" the others are
still talking. I don't care.

Schuyler just stares at me. "You could be
dead."

"I'm not."

He reaches his free hand over and strokes my
hair, almost exactly like Luck did before. I smile.

"Jesus." He mutters, looking me over. "If he
wasn't dead I'd have to kill him."

I roll my eyes. "Don't be such a downer, honey.
I am
so glad
to see you. They told me you helped them find
me?"

He runs his hand through his hair and looks at
the floor. "I know you told me not to call anyone,
but..."

I interrupt him. "Sometimes doing what I say
would be the worst thing in the world to do. Thank you, thank you,
thank you. I mean it a lot, really. I... I don't know what else to
say. I can never, ever pay it back." I exhale and close my eyes.
Schuyler mumbles something, but I'd have to be looking at him to
decipher
that
, so I just keep breathing and let it go.
Concern slides off of me like sand, like water, like... whatever.
I'm feeling good. "Must be the drugs." I mutter and slip off to
sleep

***

I'm smoking. I puff and puff and still feel
like I need a cigarette. It's sunny and quiet. I'm walking on a
dirt road. Dust clings to my feet and hangs in the air multiplying
the sun back down on me. The trees grow thick, green, and dense on
either side of the road. Everything is dry and dirty. I guess this
is the great outdoors. Shadows wave in the breeze. Some of them are
from the trees, and some aren't. I notice little red leaves amongst
the underbrush, and I wonder what I'm doing here. I feel stiff. I
keep on walking. The wind shifts in and blows my hair in my face. I
wave it back. Its dark brown. Huh. I'm not surprised. Left, right,
left, right. The road narrows. Now its just wheel tracks in the dry
earth. Trees meet above me, creating a shady green tunnel for me to
walk in. I can't see very far ahead. I walk. I breathe. I smoke. I
walk. The saplings are growing close to the tire tracks here. They
brush my bare arms. I look at them.

There's another tattoo. This one is new to me.
It's colorful, several flowers laced together with trails of
ribbon. I watch my arm move. The tattoo shifts and curls over my
skin like a shade. I'm wearing a tank top. No, it's a halter top.
It's white. It hugs my stomach. I've got light jeans on and
sneakers. That's interesting. I never wear sneakers.

I look back up, and the path has opened out. To
my right the woods continue. To my left is stream that runs up
against a sharp stone cliff on the other side. I follow the path
out onto a faded green lawn. Little purple wild flowers dot the
grass. I move leisurely towards the bank. Man, I'm so stiff, and
hot, and thirsty. As I near the water I'm pleased to find that the
bank is paved with cut stones like a patio. I squat down on them.
They radiate heat. I look over the water. It reflects the sun at
me. It twinkles. It hurts my eyes. I squint. A shade moves behind
me, and I know because I feel its cool touch at the base of my
spine. I creep towards the water's edge. I look down and gasp. It's
so clear! Amazing, beautiful! I can see to the bottom. Must be
thirty feet straight down. It's magical to look through the water.
I smile. A cloud crosses the sky and I see it reflected perfectly
in the stream.

I sigh happily, and notice my image in the
water. Wow, the hair is great. I like it dark. Makes my skin look
milky and even. Come to think of it, I don't notice any zits. Cool.
I lie on my stomach. The hot stones simmer their warmth into my
torso. I reach my right hand down. I want to touch the water. I
imagine it will be so cool and refreshing. I reach. I'm stretching
and stretching but I'm just not tall enough. The look of
concentration on my face makes me laugh. With a grunt I shift
forward so my boobs are hanging off the ledge. They look awesome
and really large from this angle. I stretch... Now. I know I'm
going to make it. "Ah..." I feel that first cool sensation on my
right fingers.

But wait. It's not so clear. As I watch, great
murky clouds billow up from the bottom of the stream. They broil
and climb like the plume of a volcano. It's cold here now. My
stomach is freezing against the stones. I'm so stiff. I snatch my
hand back and have one last glimpse of my face, sharp with concern,
before the water becomes unfathomable, too turbulent to reflect
anything. I scramble back, or I would if I weren't so stiff. I work
furiously, putting in all my effort to sit up, to back away from
the water. I'm slow, so slow. The sky has gone cloudy. The breeze
is now a wind, and it whips little specks of dirt and leaves
against my bare arms. I'm unable to move back any further. I stare
and the river boils. Big white bubbles roll over and over each
other. No. Those aren't bubbles. Those are arms. Those are legs,
hips and elbows. I'm about to scream when suddenly it stops. All is
still, quiet, so quiet. I can hear my breath coming in big gulps. I
hear my blood pumping behind my ears.