Flutter (24 page)

Abigail asked, “You said they must be near. Are you not afraid of helping us?”

“If they come for me, I will deal with it when it happens.
If
it happens. For now I suggest you lay low until you decide what you are going to do.” Dr. Paltee handed Abigail another journal. “Take this one, too. These journals will not answer all of your questions, but they will put you closer to knowing who you are and what happened.”

She hugged them tightly to her chest. 

Paltee escorted them to the door. “Take these,” he took the beads off his wrist. “They’re supposed to be for good luck. You will need it more than I will.” He smiled and shut the door as soon as they turned their backs.

Roger and Abigail returned to the truck, got in and drove off. In about five minutes, they were back on the two–lane Merritt Parkway heading north to Interstate 91 North. Not many words were spoken on the way back. Abigail was eager to get home. She wanted to go through the journal, but she knew there was too much information to absorb and couldn’t focus during the bumpy drive home. She took out a cigarette, cracked the window, lit it and began to smoke. Roger didn’t like the fact that she smoked, but he figured he would work on that with her later. In the meantime, he tried to keep his eyes on the road but the way Abigail’s lips curled over the cigarette took his attention away from the white and yellow lines.

He imagined for a moment what else she could do with her lips before he felt the car drift to the left and a horn beeped at him. He swerved to get the car back between the lines. Abigail gave him a strong stare. He shrugged, smiled and kept his eyes on the road from that point forward.

Abigail thought about Frankie. She missed him. She knew the attitude she had given him earlier was a foul but necessary move because telling him how she had ripped those men apart would have been a mistake. She hadn’t meant to be so evil, but she knew he wouldn’t understand. The cigarette put her at ease for a moment. She looked out the window through her faint reflection and saw a deer carcass resting on the side of the road. A deer: one of her spirit possessions. She thought for a moment how this could even be possible.
Why me?
She wondered, but the answer to that question was lost for now. 

The sun set as they crossed from the Merritt Parkway to the short drive on I91 North, then to 84 east, and back onto the Mass Turnpike, Abigail and Roger both had an entanglement of reflections in their minds. This string of intertwining thoughts consisted of the gruesome murders in the alley, today’s discussion with Paltee, the infamous suit, Frankie, and their physical attraction for one another. Though Abigail fought hard to ignore it and often denied it, she caught herself drifting into a subtle image of being wrapped in Roger’s arms, a place she had been before; but this time she imagined stealing a kiss. She was suddenly reminded of her attraction for him that she had felt before all this mess started. She snapped out of it as fast as it had popped into her mind. She gave him an evil stare to make up for her mistake.
It was just a thought, nothing more.
She lit another cigarette.

Night had fallen, and the streets around Sydney’s place were calm and quiet. This was unusual since his place was in a more populated area than Finch’s home in the suburbs where quietness around the house was expected. Brown and Finch were stretched out on the couch, wrapped in a thin blanket. Their bodies were intertwined as the soulful sounds of James Morrison played softly in the background. There were a few candles lit on the counter and two glasses of wine, with melons and pineapple slices in a bowl next to Sydney’s glasses on the end table. They kissed and massaged one another for a while, pressing their naked bodies as close as they could. Brown took a piece of the pineapple and rubbed it against Meghan’s neck. He then licked away the juice that streamed down to her collar bone and then ate the fruit. 

Finch smiled, “You’re such a freak.”

Brown said, “You haven’t seen freak. I can put this pineapple somewhere else and do the same if you like.” He winked as he chewed.

Finch thought Brown was cute when he didn’t have on his glasses. He squinted like a little mole and sometimes pretended to see better than he could. Finch had her papers sprawled out on the coffee table. Every time she wanted to review them, she was distracted by her insatiable desire for Sydney’s body. Brown kissed her head, back and neck while she spoke. She said, “You are the biggest distraction of my life. I’m never going to get any work done,” and laughed.

Brown said, “I can distract you for the rest of our lives. How does that sound?”

She answered, “It sounds like I will be fired and jobless, eventually homeless; and I would have to kill you.”

“You would not be homeless. You could just stay here with me,” he said.

Finch thought to herself,
Here he goes again with this conversation that I’m still not ready to have.
It spoiled the mood. Finch got up off the couch. She walked her fit naked body across the room. She retrieved her clothes off the floor and went into Brown’s room. She yelled out, “I’m stealing some sweats.” She searched through the closet and found a pair folded on a shelf. She knew where they were; she had borrowed them so many other times. Then she said, “Oh by the way, I got some important information from Jen which we should discuss before morning.”

Brown knew he had killed the mood once she mentioned work and said, “Okay, okay. What was she saying?” Brown sat up and put on his pants and glasses.

Finch dressed in his room. She spoke loudly so that he could hear. “She retold me what was going on that day and all the weird stuff she had seen. Most you already heard. Her story was the same. I asked her three different times in three different ways. We went out to lunch, and she started pulling out these files. Alan Jiang and Robert Benson were meeting about some business deal with a company called Indigo Inc.”

Brown was surprised, “Did you say Benson?”

“Yes! She said he was there.”

“Interesting. What else?”

“She said she didn’t know what kind of business deal they were discussing, whether it was an investment or a purchase. She gave me a lot of paperwork that Jiang left in the cabin. She said that he also told her that he wasn’t interested in the deal anymore and that the company wanted to discuss other options. He wasn’t interested in any new options.”

Brown asked, “But I thought this was a fishing trip.”

Finch replied, “Yes and no. She said Jiang was extremely private about his affairs. She said Dennis Matthews, his mentee, probably didn’t know about the meeting, but Jiang must have wanted him there. Jiang would often disguise meetings as vacations. She believes this was the case again.” Finch walked back into the main room dressed in sweatpants and a t–shirt.

“Did she say anything else about Robert?” Brown scrunched his forehead and asked. 

“She said he was more interested in Indigo, Inc. than Jiang was, but she wasn’t sure that he had all the facts. She knew that many of their colleagues had invested in the company so Benson thought it was the smart thing to do. After our meeting I did some research. The crazy thing was, after Jiang’s body was found, their stock dropped 40% and got bought up by a private firm in Salt Lake City. The new CEO, Erin Moore, stepped in and within two weeks the price was back where it was before Jiang’s disappearance and murder. Something is also telling me that the murder in the alley way is also connected.”

“The men we found? You think they know Benson?”

She said, “No. I don’t, but the kill pattern seems to be similar. I know Jiang’s body was dismembered, but I don’t know what that looks like. Maybe he fell out the boat and was chopped by the blades.”

Brown said, “Duffy is going to take the lead on the dead johns in the Alley case, by the way.”

She was upset, “WHY!? Since when?!”

Brown knew she wouldn’t be happy about this and said, “Since today. Chief Downy called and told me he wanted us to focus on the Benson case. Duffy said he will keep us informed on all major points. But he sent me this.”

Brown pulled out his laptop. It had the surveillance footage Duffy had sent over earlier. Finch walked over. The camera was facing the alley on a slight angle, but the camera was situated a distance away at another building. Brown played the video. Initially there wasn’t much to see. Then Brown saw dark blurs moving in and out of view but was unable to pick out much.

Brown commented, “Hmm, not much there but there is another video.” Brown played the next video. It showed two frazzled youths cutting across the street in the distance. 

Finch asked, “Can we link anymore surveillance to that time?”

Brown said, “I can ask Duffy, but I believe this was all we could get. It looks like a male and a female, but they look like they were running away in fear. Maybe they saw something.”

Finch said, “Maybe they did it. Zoom in.”

Brown paused the footage and zoomed in on the figures. The only face that could possibly be recognized was Abigail’s. But it is so unclear it was hard to get a sure match. The image pixilated as it enlarged and the particular details of the face were losing shape and distinction. Finch huffed in frustration. Then she looked closer, squinting her eyes. She said, “I feel like I know that face. They don’t look like they would be mixed up with the Robert Benson case. They look like kids. Snapshot that face and forward it to my phone.”

Finch walked over to a chair and plopped into it. She opened up the shared file drive on her phone and finally uploaded her notes. Brown sent her the photo in an email. She uploaded that to the drive as well. “I guess I’ll give you access to my files on Jennifer Martin. But only you. I’m not sure I’m ready to share this information with anyone else until I know if it’s going anywhere.” She put her phone on the coffee table. “Did you get any news from your MIT boys on that memory card?”

Brown answered, “Not yet. I will call them in the morning. I’m not sure why it’s taking so long, but I don’t know anything about what it takes to get this done.”

She looked out the window and saw a man pass by. “Well I have to…” Meghan was suddenly distracted. She looked up and was certain she saw Anthony looking through the window. She shook her head and looked again. There was nothing there. Her nerves were worked up. She was ready to leave. “I have to go. I’m gonna check out Indigo, Inc. Please stay on that memory card at MIT.”

Brown was confused by her sudden desire to go, “Why leave? You can research here.”

She answered, “You are my biggest distraction remember? I’ll never get a damn thing done. You know it’s true.”

Brown agreed, “I guess you’re right.” He stood up, walked over to her and kissed her on the shoulder. She kissed him on the lips, grabbed her things and rushed out the door.

When Meghan reached her house, she went directly to the back porch and had a quick smoke. She started to think about what it would be like if she and Brown moved in together. She wondered how the department would view it. She liked working in the city, but figured she could always get a job on the Cambridge police force instead.
Is he worth all of this?
She couldn’t imagine that having an open relationship and working for the same force would work for them. She had to admit that she was in love with Brown. They had crossed every line possible, and their feelings were only getting stronger. 

She twisted her ring around her finger, and finally slipped it off. She took a deep breath, A few tears fell from her face and she put it back on. She went into her kitchen. She made a turkey and tomato sandwich and poured a glass of whiskey. She sat at the table with her laptop and began running searches:

ALAN JIANG

ROBERT BENSON

INDIGO, INCORPORATED

A few items surfaced about the Alan Jiang investigation, but some of the files were clearly missing, mostly the graphic details of the murders. She knew that she needed more information about it including more on Dennis Mathews. She found out that Alan was Dennis’ mentor and found articles highlighting Jiang’s corporate career. One interview was conducted with Dennis. It was clear that his answers were pre–engineered to ensure Dennis didn’t say the wrong thing. There was a lot of information Meghan didn’t know about Jiang, but since she was recently discovering how strong the connection was, she was all over it. She only wished she had acted sooner. Her biggest complication was that Portland, Maine, was completely out of her jurisdiction, so getting information out of them would take some networking. She kept browsing link after link, hoping that the media could provide more info, but she realized quickly that they, too, were lost. She thought to herself,
I bet Katherine was involved in keeping this quiet.
She thought for a moment and swallowed the rest of the whiskey in the cup. She poured another shot just as she received a text message from her mother in law, “WE HOPE ALL IS WELL.” She ignored the message.

She then focused her research on Robert Benson where she mostly found trivial information about him and a few things about his wife. He played Harvard Football from 1993 to 1996 but didn’t play his senior year. She found a few old pictures of him from sports highlights in the papers and saved them to her files. Benson had worked for Bank of America for eight years before he returned to Harvard to get his MBA. He had dated a black woman named Diana Hines during his two years at Harvard’s MBA program and had married her the day after graduation. It seemed Diana and Robert last saw one another a year earlier when she decided to leave the country to do research in Kenya. Diana was currently in Meru doing research on the progression of infectious diseases in Kenyan villages. She was featured in a segment on
Newsviews
. An article with a videotaped interview popped up when Meghan searched Diana Benson’s name. She was very confident and slender, with her hair worn in a long black braid. Her eyebrows were thin. She had high cheekbones and long fingers. She could have been a model when she was younger. 

The interview was about five minutes of questions and answers. She seemed very passionate about her work. She spoke gracefully until the end of the interview when she had been asked about how her husband felt about her being gone for so long. In a British accent she commented, “Beside the fact that I am a professional and have a duty to work and grow in my profession, providing factual findings from thorough research that will benefit the public, no one asks me what I think when my husband goes on elaborate business trips. Thus, his approval or discontent is not my concern nor should it be yours. Frankly, I don’t think his opinion of what I am doing and where I am matters at this point in our relationship.” She made her statement bold and clear, signifying tension in the relationship.