Regenesis (Book 1): Impact (44 page)

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Authors: Harrison Pierce

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BOOK: Regenesis (Book 1): Impact
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Nick
didn’t argue. He nodded, ate some more, and thought about what Mizuno told him.
Mizuno on the other hand ate, retrieved his notepad from his coat pocket, and
studied and added to his notes.

---*---

3:15
PM

Baltimore,
Maryland

 

Murdock,
Felton, and Maguire sat in Sage’s old office with case notes they’d received
from another pair of detectives from another region in Baltimore. A man named
Joaquin Hernandez was impaled by a forklift at his job in a department store in
the Eastwood area of Baltimore. Sergeant Murdock heard about the death and
requested information, which they hadn’t received, aside from the name.

“They’re
not going to send anything over,” Detective Felton murmured. “They probably
think we’re out to snake the case from them.”

“We
are though,” Murdock reminded him. “If Hernandez is the fourteenth victim then
he’s a part of the investigation.”

“And
if he’s not then we don’t need to worry about their case.”

“We
really only need to know if he had a scar though, don’t we?” Bryce asked them.

“Yes,
but we’d then need to follow up and dig into Hernandez’s life to find out who
the next person could be.”

“There
won’t be time though,” Murdock told them. He brought out a small calendar Bryce
had drawn up and showed them the date of the next death. “It’s tomorrow, which
means that unless we knew right now that Joaquin Hernandez is the fourteenth
victim and started searching for the fifteenth as soon as possible, there isn’t
any way for us to figure out who it could be.”

“And
the odds aren’t in our favor to find them anyway,” Felton sighed.

Bryce
scowled and asked if there was anything they could do besides wait. Neither man
said there was much they could do.

“Where’s
Officer Hendricks?”

“It
was her day off today,” Felton told Bryce, “So we could always drop by her
place and let her know of the possible update, or we could always just wait
until tomorrow, considering it won’t make much of a difference at this point
anyway.”

Bryce
asked where she lived anyway. “I can’t sit here and twiddle my thumbs until we
actually find something.”

“What
good is it going to do by telling her we might know who the next victim is?”
Murdock asked him. “This isn’t some regular case Maguire. Yes we have to take a
lot of long shot guesses because of the nature of this whole thing, but this
one area, who each victim is, that’s the one unchanging variable we have to
work with, which means we need to make damn sure we’re right before he head off
in the wrong direction.”

Bryce
conceded, slumped forward in his seat, and asked what else they could do in the
meantime.

---*---

3:50
PM

Seattle,
Washington

 

“What
do you think?” Rachel asked Vladimir.

“I
like it, but I thought we were going to take photos of the city,” he said.

They
stopped off at the Seattle Art Museum after wandering throughout the city all
day. Rachel wouldn’t admit it, but Vladimir guessed she wanted a slight removal
from the sweltering afternoon. She also claimed she wanted to show him some of
her favorite paintings, (though Vladimir wasn’t familiar with any of the works
of art or the artists).

Rachel
obviously wanted to linger in the museum rather than continue to trek through
the blazing streets of the emerald city. She evaded his question and led him to
a section of the museum with aboriginal art from Australia. Vladimir didn’t pay
too much attention to the items though; he wanted everything to move along
rather than stall where they were.

“I
gather Jordan turned your offer down?” he started up their conversation again.

“He
said he’d be working today, so I didn’t pressure him about it.”

“Did
you mention that I was going to accompany you?”

She
didn’t look at him, “Ah, no, I just asked.”

“Are
you going to tell him?”

“Why
bother?”

Vladimir
didn’t reply.

They
wandered through the exhibit with a small separation between them. Rachel acted
interested in the pieces while Vladimir was more than aware of the awkward air
between them. He didn’t want to be alone with her and he knew just as well that
he shouldn’t have been there beside her without her boyfriend’s knowledge of
their afternoon together. They only planned on busing to Seattle, walking
around for pictures, and returning home. Rachel turned it into something
Vladimir knew was on the verge of becoming something beyond two friends sharing
a pleasant afternoon with one another.

“Hey,”
she called out to him in a hushed tone, “Come look at this one.”

He
stopped her though and asked, “What are we doing here?”

Rachel
looked at him oddly and asked what he meant.

“I
mean why did you bring me here?”

“I
wanted to show you how great this place is.”

“And
why did you neglect to tell Jordan about this?” he asked. “There is no way he
would appreciate being kept in the dark about our afternoon alone with each
other.”

“Who
cares?” Rachel flatly said. “It’s not like I planned this Vladimir. We were
just in the area and I thought you’d enjoy it. Now come on and see this with
me.”

She
took his hand and led him to a large mask. He hardly looked at it though.
Rachel didn’t say anything else; she only held onto his hand while they stood there.
Vladimir searched for an excuse to get away and tried to find another place of
interest, yet Rachel followed closely on his heels. They ended up in a
twentieth century American modern art exhibit.

Vladimir
put some distance between them when he pulled his hand away from her. They
stood only arm’s length away from each other and he knew she was aware of what
bothered him.

“What
do you think you are going to draw for the art project?” Vladimir asked her to
break the silence.

“I’m
not too sure yet,” she admitted.

“I
think I might paint the view of the city we had when we rode up over that
bridge into the city, where we could see the Space Needle, the lake, and the
cityscape very well.”

“That
sounds nice,” he agreed with her and walked on to the next painting.

“Are
you hungry?” Rachel suddenly asked him.

“No,
not really,” he blatantly told her.

“Oh.”

Vladimir
walked away from her. He needed something to distract her from him. It wasn’t
entertaining anymore, he knew something was off and that they were overstepping
their bounds and all he wanted was to walk away and let her be. A small booth
soliciting an up-and-coming event where the museum would house the work of
Vincent Van Gogh caught his eye and he immediately drew her attention there.
“Look at this.”

Rachel
did and read the brief advertisement about the event. She smiled and remarked
at how unique of an opportunity it would be. “I don’t think these works will be
collected like this again for a long time. And it says here that they’re giving
away passes to the event as part of a drawing.”

“Well
then you should enter.”

“Yeah,
maybe. Why don’t you though?”

He
stepped away and told her that he wasn’t eligible because he wasn’t a resident
of the state or even a citizen of the United States. “You should enter though.”

She
only shook her head and declined. “I wouldn’t win anyway.”

“How
can you be so sure of that?”

“Well
what are the odds anyway?”

Vladimir
let out a breath and mumbled, “With thoughts like that you would be a shoe in.”

“What?”

“Nothing,”
he sighed again.

“No,
what’s the matter?”

He
withheld his opinions and told her they should be on their way.

“No,”
she stopped him. “Listen, if it really is that big of a deal to you I’ll do
it.” She wrote her name, email, phone number, and address on the card and slipped
it into the box next to the stand. “Is that better?”

“This
has nothing to do with the contest Rachel.”

“Then
what’s this about? Why’re you acting strangely?”

“I
am not comfortable with the way things are right now.”

She
blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Vladimir
looked away from her and asked why she never told Jordan about the trip. “If
you told him I was going to join you today, he would have said something to
either withhold you from going or he would have accompanied us. You never wanted
him to join us though.”

“I
did.”

Vladimir
shook his head and whispered, “You are lying.”

“No
I’m not!” she shouted. “Damn it Vladimir, who cares if it’s just you and me?
Who cares about what Jordan thinks? He’s never showed any interest in what I
like unless its drugs or partying and this falls well outside of those
relatively small areas.”

“Rachel–”

“This
isn’t about him at all.”

Vladimir
looked her in the eye and told her that it was. “I cannot be a part of a life
where you want to go behind your boyfriend’s back to be with me.”

Rachel
glared at him and said she wasn’t. “We’re not doing anything–”

“But
it will become something if this persists.” He took a breath and apologized and
told her he needed to leave. “I cannot come between you and him. I won’t.”

“Vladimir.”

He
told her to stop. “Rachel, please, just leave this alone.” He started to walk
away and apologized again. “I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

Rachel
watched him leave and bitterly told herself that he was wrong. She didn’t move
though, as his words and their conversation echoed through her head. As much as
she hated the allegations Vladimir placed upon her, she knew he was right.
Jordan hadn’t ever been the greatest boyfriend but Rachel knew he didn’t
deserve to be cheated on or lied to. She wouldn’t want him to sneak around
behind her back either. Rachel cursed under her breath and slowly headed for
the exit while she contemplated what to do about the two boys she felt so
strongly about.

---*---

7:45
PM

Baltimore,
Maryland

 

Officer
Maguire struggled to endure his workday without calling Mia to update her about
the investigation. His thoughts raced from point to point in the investigation
and finally after his shift ended he quickly found himself at her door. Bryce
took a breath to compose himself (as well as catch his breath, since he walked
to and from work on a daily basis and as such ran to her home), and knocked.

She
answered after a few seconds and was surprised to see him. “What do you want
Maguire?”

Bryce
smiled and said, “I just wanted to drop by and tell you that there’s been a
development in the case.”

Mia
looked very cautiously at him and asked what it was.

“We
think a guy named Joaquin Hernandez is the fourteenth victim,” he started to
say, but quickly corrected himself, “Er…we think it’s him. We’re not entirely
sure, since we weren’t the first ones on the case. I mean, we haven’t even seen
the body or confirmed the scar, but, well, we’re pretty sure it’s him.”

Mia
let out a breath and told him it was Joaquin Hernandez. “I drove out to the
site and spoke with the detectives as soon as I’d heard about it. They didn’t
want to say anything about their case, but I managed to find out that he does
have the crescent scar on his arm.”

Bryce
blinked. “Um…Well, I guess you really didn’t need me to drop by.” He wasn’t
sure what to do or say next, but asked, “Why’d you go out of your way to figure
out whether it was him or not? Especially on your day off.”

Mia
shrugged. “Probably the same reason you went out of your way to drop by and
tell me about him.”

Bryce
nodded and searched for the words he should say next. “I guess I’ll see you
tomorrow then.”

Mia
said the same and shut the door.

He
didn’t move for a moment. Crows flew behind him and sirens wailed off in the
distance, but Bryce wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t expected her to welcome
him into her home with open arms and a warm beverage, but their meeting felt
terse. Bryce turned around and head back toward the streets, but stopped when
he saw a homeless man next to a payphone.

“Spare
some change mister?” he asked Bryce.

He
would have said no, but the payphone caught his eye. It was covered with a
message that read in red paint, ‘MIA STOP CLADIS.’ Bryce looked closer at the
message and noticed that the paint was relatively fresh, and that the words
were painted over a poorly painted coat of gray.

Bryce
asked the man how long he’d been out there. The man scratched his bearded chin
and said the whole day. “Did you see someone paint this message here?”

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