The Collective Protocol (15 page)

SEVENTEEN

Christmastime in Washington, D.C. was usually a happy experience, but there was a pervasive feeling that something else was going to happen, another event which would further crush the American soul. The president even cancelled the decoration and lighting of the National Christmas Tree because he didn’t want a lot of people gathered in one location for the event. The large evergreen had been decorated and displayed prominently for the public every year since 1923. The tree shone brightly during the dark days of the Great Depression, illuminated the night throughout the four long years of World War Two and was a beacon of hope during the turbulent 1960’s and 70’s, but it wouldn’t shine this year.

Residents of the city had erected mock trees all over the capital in protest of the decision, but the effigies usually didn’t make it through the brutal night. Nights in the city were worse than anyone could have imagined. D.C. had always maintained one of the highest crime and murder rates in the nation and the city’s denizens used the dark, powerless nights to their advantage. The police didn’t even travel to some parts of the city until the daytime, which gave the criminals even more leeway to act as they saw fit.

Just like the rest of the law-abiding citizens had to adjust their schedules to avoid the less-savory crowd, Reagan and her family did as well. Her father had imposed a strict curfew upon the girls that made it clear that they were not to leave the hotel for any reason after 5 p.m. The Lockharts had stayed in the university’s hotel and conference center for almost a month since the surfeit of skunks had attacked their house a few blocks away. Their insurance company was still at a loss as to how to get rid of the odor that lingered on everything.

Reagan typically enjoyed her Winter Break period by reading books and writing longer-than-normal blog posts, but the hotel room that she shared with her sister wasn’t conducive to her normal routine. Everywhere she turned it was like her sister was just sitting there, reading over her shoulder or talking nonstop. Her sister’s close proximity, the curfew and the D.C. winter weather all conspired against her to drive her crazy.

She’d finally had enough. “I’m going to the lobby to see if I can get some work done,” she announced to her parents through the open door that passed between their two rooms.

Her mother sat on the suite’s couch knitting and her father worked tirelessly on a crossword puzzle. A battery powered lantern sat next to him for the next time the power went out in the city. “Okay, honey. Stay away from the front entrance,” Garrett Lockhart said.

“No problem, Dad. It’s sleeting outside so I wouldn’t want to be near the doors anyways.”

Reagan scooped up her laptop and a novel. She wasn’t sure which one she’d end up using, so it was better to have both. Their suites were on the hotel’s 5th floor so she took the stairs to the lobby. The management made the call a couple of weeks into the rolling blackouts to permanently shut down the elevator service when several people were trapped for two days in them.

The lobby wasn’t what Reagan would have preferred as a spot to hang out. It was all bone white marble and light tan walls. Even the seating was strictly functional with a few uncomfortable couches and chairs. She had eclectic tastes, her style and varied music choices didn’t fit into any of the labels that were out there. She considered herself to be “alternative” since she did what she liked and it didn’t matter what others thought. In her opinion, the lobby of a hotel should be warm and inviting with big, comfortable couches and a roaring fireplace, not the almost antiseptic environment that this one offered.

She sat down on the crappy furniture and began typing her latest blog post in her word processor. If the hotel lost power and the Wi-Fi went down in the middle of a post, she wouldn’t lose everything by using an offline platform to copy and paste from. She’d lost focus on her blog since her project on the dangers of going to a club alone was turned in at the end of the semester. She tended to ramble on about her day in the last several posts, but it was still an integral part of her daily routine and she still had several hundred thousand followers who’d been with her since she’d posted the footage from the first dance club incident.

Reagan was deep in thought on how to write about her dinner in an interesting way when the couch shifted a little from someone sitting on the other end.
That’s annoying
, she thought as she glanced across the coffee table at the empty couch where the offender could have sat.

“I like your hair,” a male voice said from beside her.

“Thanks,” she muttered without looking up.

She continued typing and was stuck on a word to describe the taste of the bacon on her sandwich. “Succulent” didn’t seem to fit the description for a greasy, salty meat, but that’s the only word she could come up with when she thought about how she relished every bite.

The guy invaded her train of thought once more and said, “Is that your book on the table? It’s really good, I just finished it last week.”

She glanced up in annoyance at him. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to—” Reagan stopped mid-sentence as William’s smiling face turned her blood to ice.

“Hello, again,” he said cheerily.

“Uh, hello.”
Oh my God, what do I do?
her mind screamed.

“You took off so quick the other night; I didn’t get a chance to get your number so we could go on that date.”

“You slipped me a Roofy and I ended up in the hospital. Leave me alone before I call the cops.”

“Oh, they’re much too busy to worry about one little girl. Did you know that someone crashed through the gates of the White House with a big van? At this very moment every cop in a five-mile radius is down there trying to get a piece of the action.”

She closed her laptop, scooped up the book and rushed towards the service desk. They’d be able to help her. As she walked, she glanced over her shoulder and William was walking slowly along behind her, hanging back, taking his time.

She made it to the desk and no one was there. “Hey! Hey, I need some help!” she shouted and slapped her open hand on the counter.

No one responded.
The security guards,
she thought and rushed towards the front entrance where the hotel had two armed guards to keep out the riffraff.

When she got there, both men were gone. They’d been there less than half an hour ago when she had come downstairs. “Somebody, help me!” she yelled to an empty lobby.

Her voice echoed back to her along with William’s sinister laugh. “Oh, no one will come to help you. I made sure of that,” he gloated as he continued to saunter at a slow pace, matching her frantic path around the hotel’s first floor.

Reagan ran towards the stairwell and William angled in to stop her. “No way, sweetie,” he said. “We’re gonna do this right here, no reason to get your parents involved.”

Parents!
Reagan’s mind grasped that thought and she sprinted towards the conference center. When she was sure that she’d sufficiently outdistanced William she ducked into one of the meeting rooms and hid behind a large planter. Her fingers danced frantically over her cell phone as she dialed her father’s number.

“
Hello? Reagan, what’s wrong?
” her father’s voice came from the phone’s tiny speaker.

“Dad! I’m in the lobby… The man from the club is here. Everyone else is gone. Please help me!”

“
I’m coming!
” her father yelled into the phone.

“Reagan! Reagan Lockhart! I can hear you breathing heavy,” William called out. “Don’t be scared of lil’ ol’ me. I just want to spend some time with you.”

She sucked in her breath and held it when the door to the room opened. “Are you in here my sweet little thing?”

“No? Okay,” she jumped but stayed silent when the lights went out and her attacker stood silhouetted in the doorway from the light of the hallway.

He disappeared and she heard him shout down the hallway, “You know, hiding isn’t a nice thing to do, Reagan.”

William screamed in frustration and his voice elevated a few octaves at the end. When he spoke again, his voice was noticeably more feminine. “How are you doing that? I’ve been able to see you my whole life!”

Reagan’s mind raced. Had she known William before that night in the club? What the hell did he mean that he’d been able to see her? Was this guy stalking her and she had no clue that he even existed until the failed assault attempt a few weeks ago?

His shadow reappeared in the doorway and he shouted over his shoulder into the hallway, “I may not be able to find you, Reagan. But I can sure as hell see your father from a mile away. Let’s see how he reacts to the fact that his daughter is a freak!”

She heard her father’s voice echo down the hallway. “Oh, here he is,” William whispered and disappeared from the doorway again.

Reagan rushed from her hiding place and burst into the hallway. “Daddy! Look out,” she screamed.”

“Reagan! Where is he? Are you okay?” Garrett called from the far end of the hallway.

She jogged towards him and he stopped and then turned the other way. “Dad, what are you doing? I’m right here!”

He disappeared around the corner, headed back towards the lobby. William disengaged from the wall near the end of the hallway, waved to her and then followed after her father.

The sense that something bad was about to happen pervaded her thoughts and she increased her speed. She slipped on the shiny marble when she tried to turn the corner and fell hard on her elbow. “Ow!” she yelled. She looked to where she’d slipped and saw an open bottle of water lying against the molding.
Where did that come from?
She gingerly pushed herself up off the floor and hobbled over to pick up her laptop that had gone flying when she fell. She set it down carefully on a chair and limped towards the lobby.

The hallway opened into the lobby and Reagan searched for William and her father. She saw them both sitting on the couch where she’d been typing earlier and skidded to a halt. “What… What’s happening?” she asked.

Her father looked at her and said, “Oh, we’re just waiting for you. William was just telling me about your first date. Sounds lovely, dear.”

Reagan’s defenses shot up. Besides the obvious fact that her father was sitting with an attempted rapist, he never called her “dear.”

“Dad, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Why don’t you come over here and sit down with us?”

“No way,” she shook her head. “This is all wrong.”

“Reagan, we just wanted you here to see the big event,” William stated evenly. “Are you sure that you don’t want to come closer to get a better view?”

Her eyes darted from her father’s face to William’s. “Better view of what?”

“The main event!” William said and stood up. He clapped his hands and danced around like a madman. “This is going to be so exciting!”

Reagan took a few hesitant steps forward. Her father just sat there staring at her while the youth gesticulated wildly a couple of feet from him. She knew that she wouldn’t like the answer, but she had to ask. “What’s the main event?”

William stopped dancing and looked towards her. His eyes blazed with a fire that she hadn’t noticed before. “You’ve always had the perfect little family. What kind of sick bastards only adopt one twin? They took you from me and gave you the world.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked guardedly. “What do you mean ‘twin’?”

“Oh, this is perfect! You didn’t even know that you were a twin. You have an identical twin sister, isn’t that right, Garrett?”

“Yes, Reagan is a twin. We couldn’t take both of them at the time. We thought that Heather wasn’t able to have children so we adopted.”

Her mind flashed to the police station holding room all those months ago when the FBI agent asked her what she was doing in Canada the previous week. It must have been her twin sister. Why was she in Canada?

“Wait. Are you saying that I’m adopted?”

“Yes,” her father answered in anguish. “We learned about your mother and decided to keep it from you.”

Reagan’s perception of reality came crashing down around her and she could feel a tempest of anger rising inside of her. How dare they keep such a critical part of her past—two parts!—from her. She was an adult now; at the very least they should have told her when she turned eighteen.

A single tear fell down her father’s cheek and William rushed over to wipe it from his face. “What the hell?” he muttered and turned to Reagan. “You’re doing this! I’m losing control of him.”

Reagan blinked several times to clear her thoughts and said, “What are you talking about, William?” She was confused about what was happening. Why was her father sitting here with this man? Were her parents ever going to tell her that she had a twin sister?

“You’re developing later than I did,” William said staring at her in what she would describe as
awe
. “I can feel it in you… That’s why I couldn’t find you!”

“William, please just go away. I promise I won’t call the police. Just leave us alone and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Things have moved beyond that,” William said sadly. “I’ve done things that no one would ever forgive me for.” He turned his body back towards her father and hung his head.