This Girl Who Was A Ghost, page 23
part #2 of Near Future Series
“Let’s pay the Artemis Players a visit.”
●●●
Sammy and Maria walked up a flight of stairs and stopped by the second door across the hall. Maria turned the knob, but it was locked.
“Said you should’ve called.”
Maria knocked. “Somebody should be here.”
“Maybe they’re out doing another stupid play.”
“Can I help you?” an annoyed woman’s voice called out from a speaker somewhere above them.
“We’re from Chasing News, wanting to talk to you about your opinions of the cultural landscape of the city.”
“You got to be kidding me,” Sammy whispered.
“It would be nice if you called first,” the woman said, then buzzed them in.
The office was narrow, feeling as if they’d walked into a shoebox. The walls and ceiling were whiter than white. The floor was a dark wood with a thick light-gray throw rug in the center. The woman was in her late thirties with dark hair coming down to the shoulders and a few strands of gray if you looked close enough. She seemed as if she’d seen everything twice and didn’t like either version.
She waved her hand to the seats in front of the desk, which was really just a table with black metal legs. “I was going to ask for credentials, but I recognize the face.”
Sammy and Maria sat. The glow from the window behind her seemed brighter at their sitting position. Sammy covered her eyes. “Should’ve brought a shade.”
The woman touched something on her desk, darkening the window. “Is that better?”
Sammy nodded. The woman was barefoot with pink nail polish.
“Sorry for not calling, but we were just in the neighborhood and thought it’d be a great idea to start with one of the cultural icons of the city.”
The woman’s guarded expression melted into a more prideful grin. “Are you a patron?”
“Maria Santiago.”
The woman tapped on the screen. “I’m good with faces, not so much with names.”
“I’m not a patron, but that’s one area I wanted to discuss.”
“Patrons?”
Maria nodded. “One idea we’re looking at is what is the engagement of the average citizenry in supporting the arts. For instance, do you have a wide patron support base?”
“Oh, very wide. We have people from all walks of life.”
“I bet none of them walk,” Sammy said under her breath.
“Excuse me?”
Sammy flashed a phony smile. “Very inspiring.”
“We’re like one big family.”
Maria leaned forward in her seat. “We’d love to speak to your patrons to get the many different perspectives of why they support the arts.”
“I couldn’t possibly give you the contact information. That’d be a breach of trust.”
“I can assure you of our discretion, and think of the goodwill generated for your own organization.”
Sammy pulled out her phone and checked if she could connect to the lady’s computer. There was a computer called Artemis Player One on the list. Maria had shown her how to get into other phones and computers that weren’t protected, but this one was. One sketchy app found on a gray site let her see what apps were running. One was a spreadsheet titled “Patrons.”
The lady dwelled on Maria’s proposal for a moment. “I can’t.”
Sammy sent Maria a message. Maria excused herself and checked her phone. She looked over at Sammy for confirmation.
Sammy nodded.
“We do have another play schedule for next week,” the lady said. “Many of our patrons will be in the audience.”
Sammy connected to Artemis Player One and performed her best imitation of a sneeze, stomping on the lady’s toes.
The lady shot up out of the desk, howling.
Maria jumped out of her seat and rushed to her. “Are you all right?”
Sammy waited for Artemis Player One’s screen to show up.
“She stepped on my bare feet!”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” Maria said, shielding the lady from the computer, then reached back and hit “accept.”
Sammy copied the spreadsheet of the patrons onto her phone and disconnected.
Maria mouthed the words, “Did you get it?”
Sammy nodded.
“Sorry,” Sammy said, adding a sniffle for good measure. “Had a sneeze that I couldn’t get out until just then.”
“Can I get you anything?” Maria asked, dripping with false sincerity.
The lady shook her head and waved Maria off. She sat down with her foot up on the chair, massaging her toes. “My feet were under the desk.”
“My body spasms when I sneeze. Once I almost knocked a guy out on a bus after a sneeze.”
The lady huffed, still working the toes. “You should wear a hazard sign.”
“I’ve been thinking of getting a yellow shirt with red stripes.”
“We’re so sorry.” Maria pulled Sammy out of the chair. “I’ll call you about the date for the play.”
Sammy pulled her arm free once the office door closed behind them. “Thought you wanted to stick around and talk about cultural vistas.”
“Couldn’t let the hazard sign go? You did almost break her toes.”
“I just stepped on them. What was she doing without shoes, anyway?”
Maria glanced at her as they approached the landing.
“What?”
Maria held the door for Sammy. “We should talk.”
“About what?”
“Mostly about that chip on your shoulder.”
“Is that what I have? I should get one of them cleaning bots to brush it off.”
“Sam?”
Sammy pulled out the phone and gave it to her. “The hundred makes us even.”
Maria grabbed her arm as Sammy reached for the exit door. “Sam, please.”
Sammy pulled her arm free, glaring at Maria.
“If I overstepped some line, then I’m sorry. It came from a place where friends help each other.”
“I thought I was helping you by getting the contacts. Instead of thanking me, you’re trying to make me into some other version of you.”
Maria narrowed her gaze. “I don’t think I am.”
“If I have to step on some toes, I do it, and I don’t apologize for it.”
Maria pushed through the door. “When you step on toes, you step on toes.”
“A little tap wasn’t going to get her jumping out of the chair.”
“You had her jumping all right.”
Sammy shielded her eyes from the sun. “If I had to listen to any more of that cultural landscaping bullshit, I’d be the one jumping.”
Maria’s phone rang. She handed back Sammy’s phone and checked hers. “It’s Jack.”
Sammy sent the patron list to Maria.
“This sounds like another Medusa, Jack… Were the ratings that good? Don’t you think this will affect our credibility? We’re already called Chasing Tail News… Right, Grunge News… Okay,” Maria said, then hung up.
“Jack’s having me chase down angels, demons, ghosts, or whatever they’re calling them now. There’s a slew of other reports.”
Sammy was glad she didn’t have to answer to Jack. “Good luck.”
“Sure you don’t want to tag along? Something tells me this is right up your alley.”
Sammy shook her head.
“There might be some toes needing stepping on.”
“I showed you how, now go forth and prosper.”
“You really are a smart-ass, you know.”
“One of us has to be.”
Maria scrolled through the spreadsheet. “I’ll send these names to my city hall connections in Motor Vehicles. It should narrow down the list to a more manageable number.”
Sammy spun and flicked her hand goodbye.
“Thanks,” Maria shouted.
“About time.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
________________________________________
Sammy took the stairs to the club’s basement and passed Johnny’s office. He wasn’t in, and if she was lucky, she’d miss him tonight. Leo and Johnny had been driving Cindy crazy. Leo didn’t need her in the lab, and Johnny didn’t want her in the lounge. Sammy opened the door to the lab and spotted Johnny and Leo in the back. So much for missing Johnny.
“Just throw the rats in the garbage,” Johnny said. “We do it all the time.”
“These are not ordinary rats and need to be disposed of as medical waste.”
Sammy wondered if she should step out, but the rats had her intrigued.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Johnny’s grin turned more into a sneer after noticing Sammy.
“You should listen to him, Leo. Johnny knows a thing or two about dead rats. Just ask his rug.”
“I got cops coming around asking questions. I don’t need you here.”
“Did they want to bring in that rug for questioning?”
“They wanted to know a place to get a lawn gnome. I told them they had one on their books.”
Leo stepped between them. “So we’re in agreement about the need for the medical waste incinerator?”
Johnny spun back to him. “This is it! Do you hear me?”
“Yes, very clearly.”
Johnny glanced around. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
“She’s not his girlfriend, you creep.”
His grin turned goofy and sinister. “You’re not doing her too?”
Sammy picked up a metal cube to throw.
Leo raced over and grabbed her arm. “Sam, no!”
“Look at the gnome go.” Johnny chuckled. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He opened the door and strolled out.
Leo held her arm back. “Sam, put it down.”
Sammy dropped the cube. “Give me a zap. Just one zap and I’ll stuff that rug down his throat.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Then I’ll shove it up his ass.”
Leo gazed at her with a crinkled brow.
She was collecting a bunch of those disapproving looks today. Maybe Leo wanted to talk about the chip on her shoulder next.
Leo strolled back to the rat cages. “May I ask why you’re here?”
“Cindy asked me to stop by. Where is she?”
Leo shrugged, jotting something down on a tablet.
Sammy marched out of the lab, trying to get her fingers to grow. Johnny wasn’t in his office. Sammy scanned the lounge—no sign of Cindy. Bernie wasn’t at his usual table either.
Janine walked by and flashed a smiled.
“You see Cindy?”
“Saw her in the kitchen earlier,” Janine said and poured a glass of water.
Sammy headed toward the double doors, then turned back. “Bernie’s not here today?”
“Must’ve taken the day off.” Janine headed back to the lounge with the water.
Cindy stood at the stove with her white lab coat, tossing up bite-size orange balls with a flip of the pan. The balls sizzled, and the flame flared. Cindy took a step back, hand outstretched, still holding the pan over the fire. “I’m making cheese puffs, Sam.”
“Looks like you’re fighting a dragon.”
Cindy rolled the balls onto a plate. “Take one.”
Sammy picked up one with a napkin.
“Linda showed me how to make them. How are they?”
“I’m waiting for it to drop below the lead-melting phase.”
Cindy giggled. “I guess they’re still hot.”
Sammy bit into it, taking in mostly the crusty outer shell. The cheese oozed out like lava.
“Let me see your new phone, reporter girl.”
“Just helping Maria, and for that she says I got a chip on my shoulder.”
“A chip? Where?” Cindy asked, looking from one shoulder to the other.
“It’s not a real chip. It’s a stupid saying.”
“Oh,” Cindy said, narrowing her gaze. “What does it mean again?”
“Don’t know exactly—”
“I bet Linda knows.” Cindy asked Linda, who was sorting through a large bag of potatoes.
Linda looked up as if she were trying to pick words out of the air. “Somebody who holds a grudge.”
“I don’t think you hold a grudge any more than anyone else.”
Sammy didn’t think that was it either. She handed Cindy the phone and bit into the cheese puff. The cheese was only mildly scalding.
Cindy took the phone as if it was delicate, brows arched. “You know how expensive these are?”
“How much?” She could pawn it if Jack didn’t deliver the money she was owed.
Cindy flipped through the screens. “What are all these names?”
“We think one of them is the masked killer.”
“Really?”
Sammy nodded. “We’re going to try to whittle down the list and find him.”
“You going to turn him over to that cop?”
“First, I’m going to take his knife and whittle something of his down.”
Cindy grinned. “You be careful, Sam. He’s a killer.”
She was a killer too, although that didn’t give her any comfort. Sammy finished the rest of the puff as she watched Cindy flip through the screens.
Cindy handed her back the phone and picked up the plate of cheese puffs. “Back to the dungeon.”
They strolled out of the kitchen and down the stairs.
“At least I didn’t have to clean the rat cages today. Guess his experiment didn’t go well.”
“No one was more disappointed than Johnny. He was expecting to get a new hair weave out of it.”
Cindy glanced at her with a sly grin. “You do have a little bit of that chip for Johnny.”
“Almost gave him a chip to the head.”
“You saw him?”
Sammy nodded, snatching a cheese puff. “I came down here looking for you.”
“Didn’t Boulder tell you I was in the kitchen?”
“I don’t understand grunt.”
Cindy lingered a few steps past Johnny’s office. “He does mumble sometimes.”
Sammy’s phone buzzed. It was Maria.
“Where are you?”
“At the club. Why?”
“There’s another murder.”
“Where?”
“I’m sending the address. Come as quick as you can.”
The call disconnected and a message popped up with an address.
“What is it, Sam?”
“Another girl was killed.” Sammy stared at the address. It wasn’t close to the club like the last one, though.
Chapter Forty-Eight
________________________________________
A police car closed off the street, lights flashing up and down the block. Sammy stepped out of the transporter, but the cop blocked her way. Sammy pointed to the apartment building behind the cop. “I live right there.”
The cop pushed off the car. “Let’s see some ID.”
“I left my phone in the apartment. It’s been one of those days.”
“How did you get a transporter if you don’t have a phone?”
Sammy sighed. Cops can be like dogs with a bone. “A friend called it for me.”
He puckered his lips, looking as if he’d just taken a sip of soup and wasn’t sure if it needed more salt.
Sammy’s phone rang.
The cop leaned back against the car. “Right.”
Sammy huffed and walked away.
It was Maria. “Remember when you get here, we get first crack at anything you find. You tell me, and I’ll tell Russo.”
“The cop wouldn’t let me through.”
“Must be only letting in people with press passes.”
“Can you send me one?”
“They don’t give them out like candy.”
“They don’t give out candy like candy either.”
“Yeah,” Maria said, buzzing the phone with her breath. “How about if you tell the cop that you live in one of the apartments?”
“Tried that and it almost worked; then you called.”
“You have to put it on silent mode first.”
“I’d like to go into silent mode right now.”
“Smart-ass.”
“I’ll see if I can find another way in.”
“Look around for the mask and see if he left it on one of the side streets.”
Sammy searched the hedges along the side of the building and smelled a cigar, spotting a two-inch butt behind one of the bushes. A couple of guys stepped through a side door to the apartment. She ran for the door. “Can you hold that?”
The door locked behind them, but the guy with a purple shirt and wispy thin beard opened it up for her.
“Thanks.”
“Sure, kid.”
They weren’t much older than her, and he called her kid? Sammy said nothing and followed them up the steps. They kept turning back, and she kept expecting them to get off at the next floor.
The guy in the front with a striped shirt turned back at the stairs to the roof. “You know Steve?” he asked her as though he thought she didn’t.
She’d had enough of these clowns. “Yeah, Steve the asshole.”
Purple Shirt laughed. “That sounds like Steve.”
Striped Shirt trudged up the steps. “How many did he invite to this kegger?”
Purple Shirt looked at her from head to toe. “How old are you?”
Sammy brushed past him. “With that beard, you’re asking how old I am?”
“It’ll fill in.”
“This decade or next?”
He reached out for the closing door. “Want to hang out?”
It was a flat-tar roof surrounded by a three-foot wall, narrowing then expanding again to the next building. All of the buildings seemed to be attached. There were a few people ahead of them, strolling toward the flashing lights from the streets below as if they were on a great pilgrimage.
Sammy’s phone rang.
“You’re meeting somebody?” Purple Shirt asked.
Sammy turned away and pulled out her phone. Maria again.
“Find anything?” Maria asked, hopeful.
“I’ll call you if I find something. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”
