Authors: Jeffrey Walton
She circled every eighth word and came up with
still
in
same
location
need
time
cannot
explain
through
code
.
So back to work she went and kept her fingers crossed that her bible talk was on par with
[email protected]
. After an hour or so she came up with her email.
From:
reynolds [mailto:
[email protected]
]
To:
Subject:
feeling alive is a gift
It
is
god’s
eyes
we
feel
and
not
inner
guilt
when
wrongful
judgments
are
made.
He
knows
all
we
need
is
proper
guidance
and
knowledge
in
order
to
appreciate
our
gift
of
life.
The
gift
is
given
to
all
but
his
everlasting
love
will
only
be
embraced
by
those
who
follow.
Faith
is
the
key,
talk
to
those
who
love
you,
talk
to
those
who
don’t
but
forgive
those
who
do
not
listen.
Only
then
can
the
one
who
has
given
everything
will
soak
in
the
warmth
of
his
love
and
feel
eternal
peace.
The
road
to
faith
on
which
you
stand
may
fill
with
treachery
and
hate
but
wither
not
for
the
final
destination
is
near
and
just
reward
given.
Only
then
can
the
one
who
has
traveled
this
road
help
others
along
their
way.
Breathe
in
new
life,
tell
his
people
to
cherish
all
they
have
even
if
they
have
nothing.
He
says
never
fear
me,
place
faith
in
his
divine
truth
and
there
will
be
nothing
to
fear.
The
pure
heart
is
where
pure
love
is
found,
love
for
all,
love
for
him,
love
for
love.
Drink
from
the
chalice
to
become
one
with
him,
eat
from
plate
to
be
nourished
by
him.
In
time
you
will
meet
all
the
loving
souls
who
you
yourself
loved
along
the
way
and
it
will
be
a
time
that
lasts
forever
and
ever.
It took some time, it was more difficult than she had originally planned but all-in-all she was content as it offered a nice segway from Reynolds’ previous emails. She entered in her two prime generated sequence emails addresses and fired away. Now she would play the waiting game not knowing if she would ever receive a reply. She was pretty sure she nailed the decoding and encoding of the messages but she couldn’t help but think that there might be another hidden message embedded within the emails.
. . .
H
e went upstairs to his kitchen that hadn’t seen a coat of paint since its established date. It was a dull yellow thanks to his chimney of a mother. At one time the yellow metal cabinets were state of the art. He opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a plate and opened the drawer and pulled out two butter knives. From the bread box he pulled out a loaf of fresh white and took out two slices. From another cabinet he removed a jar of creamy Jif and the traditional Smuckers grape jelly and proceeded to build the perfect pb and j. He used two knives as to not cross contaminate; the one thing he hated was peanut butter on his toast in the morning. Once even amounts of spreads were in place, he placed the two halves together. He then removed a bread knife from the drawer and removed the crust. He remembered from long ago she did not like the hard part of the bread. He wasn’t happy with his result. He picked it up and simply discarded into the trash bin and pulled out two more slices of bread. It took him a good twenty five minutes, almost all of his jars, and ten slices of bread to construct just the right sandwich, he was out of practice. It had to be perfect for her. Finally, it was perfect. Once the construction was done he licked both butter knives, washed them, and placed them back in their proper place. He returned the bread knife as well. He next grabbed his favorite, a small bag of cheese doodles, opened it, and placed a small amount as an accompaniment to the sandwich.
With plate in hand he descended the stairs one step at a time. He placed the plate outside the steel door on a cheap plastic patio table. He then went to his watching room, hoping this was the last time he would need it. She was asleep on the bed, with panda bear tucked under her arm. That brought a smile to his face, she loved that bear, she always did. She had the faintest of smiles on her face, and he watched as her chest rose and collapsed with each breath she took. It was rhythmical in his mind. Unknowingly, he matched her breath for breath. They were becoming one again. His mind slowly focused on the feelings, the tingly feelings from deep inside of him. They brought along memories upon memories which flooded his mind. He took the trip they provided. The faintest of smiles appeared as it parted his lips just so.
He had butterflies in his stomach. Once again he approached the steel door with apprehension. He took a deep breath. He finally had her back in his life, it had been so long. Would she even remember him, he wondered.
It was time.
With his free hand he undid each lock as quietly as he could. He took another deep breath when the final lock released itself back into the door. Another deep breath when he turned the handle. He slowly opened the door and took a quick glance before he proceeded any farther. Another deep breath. He walked in and closed the door behind him ever so quietly. She was still asleep. He moved towards the bed ever so slowly. Calculating and planning every step. He had finally made it to his destination. Another deep breath. She was still asleep. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered. He loved her so. He climbed into the bed ever so gently as not to wake her. He didn’t. He was now next to the one he loved. So close, just like he remembered. He was full of delight, joy, and glee. He stroked her pretty blonde hair the way he used to. She loved that. So did he. She did not wake. He kissed her forehead. She did not wake. His life had meaning again. He loved her so. Even more memories surfaced and a sense of euphoria took control of his body. His imagination took control of his mind. He was back in a world of love, unconditional love. He was happy again. She was awake now.
. . .
S
cott was going to have to circumnavigate a potentially very messy situation with Jorja and at the same time offer an olive branch for support. He assured himself that they both wanted the same thing, and that was to find Grace’s killer, he just had to hide the fact he was the one who instantiated the plan that went awry. The sooner he called the sooner he could come clean and look like the good guy.
“Jorja, it’s Scott Norwood calling, listen I have to be upfront and apologize immediately for my actions this morning.”
“You mean for defiling my email server.”
‘Pun intended I hope?”
“Not on purpose I assure you.”
“Again I’m sorry, sorry for not going through the proper channels, I realize I should have gone to you first, but with all that’s been happening I didn’t know how you would react. See, I have some leads regarding your aunt’s death.”
“What are they?”
“Not over the phone, hold on a sec,” as she heard him speak to someone who entered the room, “no, that won’t do, what time does he go? Okay then 7:30 is the earliest I can do, take about fifteen minutes. Sorry about that Jorja, as I was saying, I have leads, I don’t think the senator was involved but I have to…”
“Send them over to me and I’ll take a look.”
“I do want us to work together on this but I have to verify the authenticity of my findings first.”
“May I ask, just why are you involved in this in the first place?”
“Sure you can ask and I’ll tell you, just not over the phone, it will have to be in person.”
“When?”
“Today . .wait, . . . how about tonight… I have a jam-packed scheduled until almost eight.”
“You can’t do it now?’
‘No, I’m sure you understand I can’t leave my boss high and dry but later I have some rare free time. Does after eight this evening work for you?”
“Now works for me but I understand… . where?”
“Good question… . how about, how about Tosca’s, on F Street?”
“For dinner?”
“We can have dinner if you want, I’ll have someone make the res . .”
“No, no, just . .”
“Listen it will be late, they have good food, sort of kill two birds with one stone.”
Jorja thought there are a bunch of insensitive assholes of late, “Fine,” saying in disgust as he didn’t even realize his foot was in his mouth.
“I’ll have a car pick you up. Do you want it from the office or home?”
“I can drive.”
“I don’t want you to go to any trouble, I’ll take care of it, I’ve done enough already so let me make it up to you.”
“Office then.”
“If you need anything in the meantime, text, call, email, I’ll see you around eight.”
“This should be very interesting,” once again saying aloud, “having dinner with one of the elite members of GOD’s inner circle, should be very interesting indeed.”
Just as Greg was walking in the door, a preview of an email popped up on her screen informing her that she received a reply from
[email protected]
. It quickly vanished as Greg took a seat in front of her desk. Her mind was now elsewhere and Greg saw she was a little agitated.
From:
[email protected]
To:
[email protected]
Subject:
never too late
Saying
nay
or
no
or
even
can’t
were
terms
of
failure
and
winners
strive
for
the
complete
opposite.
The
lure
of
being
a
dynasty
was
our
ultimate
goal
not
just
one
or
two
championships
and
a
nice
footnote
in
the
pages
of
history.
The
road
was
long,
filled
with
cracks,
bumps,
potholes,
but
the
path
remained
straight
and
never
wavered.
Not
last,
not
this
time,
oh
no,
it
was
first,
first
for
a
long
long
time.
To
shelter
the
storm
of
our
slow
and
methodical
start
we
bonded
together
to
repel
the
negative
energy
both
the
press
and
our
fans
laid
upon
us.
The
next
time
we
truly
bonded
was
our
first
win
in
a
stretch
of
what
we
knew
would
be
many.
Next
to
winning
it
all,
our
first
win
was
special
to
us
as
a
team,
it
meant
we
could
do
anything
and
everything
as
a
team.
The
kiss
of
death
many
thought
was
having
our
leader
on
every
cover
of
every
sports
magazine
in
the
country,
again
we
proved
them
wrong.
Second
and
third,
fourth
and
fifth,
we
never
wanted
to
be
like
them,
nobody
ever
remembers
those
people,
those
teams,
we
wanted
it
all.
The
ride
to
the
top
was
more
enjoyable
to
ourselves
then
partaking
in
the
view
from
the
top,
we
knew
we
would
be
there
again
and
again.
All
eleven
players
on
the
field
gave
it
their
all
one
hundred
percent
of
the
time.
In
tonight’s
victory
the
cream
will
once
again
rise
to
the
top
and
we’ll
be
forever
known
as
a
dynasty
of
greatness,
a
dynasty
of
remembrance,
a
dynasty
of
legends.
Decoding the message was brief.
. . .