Action Adventure / Okaria (Analysis)
Okaria
The streets were empty and it has begun to rain. Ben drove up to the address of the crime scene and spotted the yellow tape surrounding the area. Pulling his trench coat up around his neck he exited his truck racing through the rain. Finally making it beyond the yellow tape he walked into the decrepit warehouse. The moisture of the air encouraged the pungent smell of urine, blood and stale cigarettes. His eyes watered as he caught his breath and shook of the rain, moving toward a group of fluid beams in the south corner of the building.
“Congratulations on the collar Mitchell,” a fellow federal agent called to him as he moved between the individual officers and the small piles of equipment.
“Thanks, Mike,” Ben said with an easy smile.
Chestnut brown hair that complimented his olive skin and green eyes, Ben’s Mitchell’s suit and trenchcoat did little to hide his athletic build and muscular frame. With seven years under his belt at the FBI the congratulations was for their latest conviction. A serial rapist that terrorized women over three months and four states was a nice add to his ever growing file of solved cases. He and his partner, Tom Richards were running 15 and 2 and hoped to keep their streak going.
His eyes wandered over the scene, a faint scenario of events playing out in his mind. She had been brought here, her clothes were still relatively clean and untattered. The bright colors and heavy make up suggested she had been kidnapped from a club or party. Possibly drugged and escorted out under the veil of a drunken friend.
“Ben,” he heard as his partner Tom called to him from across the warehouse.
“Yeah, be right there,” Ben replied, now looking at the remains. Her body had been completely emaciated. Erasing the smoothness of youth and replacing it with a whithered shell of skin and bones.
“ETD was 11:30 pm,” Tom said as he furiously typed on his blackberry. “The local PD got an annonmyous phone call at 12:3am, and here we are, 2:00 am in the stinking bowels of the city.”
Tom graduated from Quantico just a year after Ben. Tall, handsome, sincere and smart, Agent Richards was the poster boy for the FBI and a self proclaimed player.
“Man you are addicted to that thing,” Ben commented.
“No I’m not, it is a powerful tool.”
“Yeah a powerful tools for keeping tabs on girlfriends A , B and C,” Ben replied glancing out the window at the clear blue sky. “Which is ridiculous by the way. They are people, they have names.”
“I know that but they change so often it is just easier this way. A man has got to have options,” Tom replied as he finished the message.
“You are truly sick,” Ben replied.
“But well connected,” Tom added proudly.
“How old is she?” Ben asked as he nodded to the body.
“Twenty two,” Tom replied grimly looking at him and then back to his blackberry.
“What’s the MO?” Ben asked.
“Not sure, all women, remains resemble this one, no apparent connection to each other,” Tom replied finally putting the blackberry back into the holster on his hip. ““What’s the plan? You take the paper, I tackle forensics?”
“Yeah,” Ben replied as the forensic’s team began to wrap the body for removal. Careful not to loose any evidence in the process. Standard forensic procedure. Tom, while a playboy by night excelled in the field which is why Ben was the ‘paperboy’. He was the one who talked to the family, followed the mone,y and or the blood trail while Tom put it together in a solid package ready for conviction. “Family?”
“Has been notified but not interviewed.”
“I’ll go see them tomorrow,” Ben replied.
“I’ll go over the tox screen, and check out her apartment,” Tom agreed. “She lives downtown by the college but she is from down south.”
“South?’
“Whitten’s Grove, ever heard of it?” Tom explained.
“Yeah,” Ben replied composing himself slightly. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”
Having to put a victims’ family through a series of painful questions was probably the worst part of his job.
Recounting the file he had been given the hour before, the first killing occurred 60 days before in Easton, PA. Since then there had been a murder a week, all in a different state and or possible country as was noted in the report. A link to several murders in France, Belgium and Germany had been found and were being researched further. While everyone was quick to categorize it as a serial, Ben disagreed. From the description of each event there was a key element missing. The adrenaline rush of the kill, the driving expulsion that most killers sought. These were anti-climactic, the direct opposite of their current profile.
Ben walked through the warehouse aimlessly, the scraping of his own feet kept time with the silent questions of motive, timing, and a pattern.
A clanging echo pulled him from his thoughts, his eyes immediately drawn upward. Making his way to the back of the warehouse and silently up a flight of metal stairs, he entered the lofted second floor. Ben gathered his bearing as beams of light from the forensic teams effort appeared in his peripheral vision. His attention focused on the eaves of the warehouse listening for the source of the noise. His gaze traced up the back wall to the small movement of a shadow. He froze, seeing a catwalk leading to the other side of the lofted area he crept forward to the end and silently ducked behind a large column in hope of a glance at the guest.
The vague shape of a figure moving within the shadows appeared. Dressed in black, his arms raised outward. Ben was abruptly blinded by the flashing of light. Refocusing on the glow he watched in curiosity as it curled itself into a small orb that sat hovering just above the ground. The orb grew as thin tentacles extended and wrapped themselves around each other, creating an intricate web of light.
Pulling himself out of his awed fascination he took a breath.
“Stop, FBI,” he commanded pulling out his weapon and stepping out from behind the large column. “What are you doing?”
Receiving no response, Ben paused for an instant, still mesmerized by the fluidity of light.
“Stop what you are doing and put your hands down,” he called again. The guest surprisingly complied as he watched the light display fold into itself and disappear.
The visitor stood silently, his arms hanging loosely at his sides as Ben slowly approached, “who are you?”
The air leapt from his chest and within an instant his back was crushed against a cold wall. Gasping for air, Ben struggled to his feet, his eyes and mind blurred by the sudden assault. Reeling, he caught sight of a fleeting shadow, his mystery guest turning a corner about twenty feet to his right. He followed, his pace quickened trying to bridge the gap between him and the clanging of metal just in front of him. Listening intently to the vibrations of the noise he isolated it as the drumming of someone ascending a flight of rusted stairs. The distant thundering of the forensics team as they headed up the stairs muddled his perception and he silently cursed. Finally meeting the stairs he took two at a time he reached the landing, which opened to another catwalk. He gained speed, seeing the suspect only feet ahead. His arms unexpectedly flew upward as the ground disappeared from beneath him, grasping at air. Sharp cold metal sliced at his side. Clutching desperately at the jagged metal and opening his eyes he beheld the gaping hole on the catwalk just above him and the fifty-foot drop onto concrete just below. Searching for his suspect and a way out, he saw nothing and cursed aloud.
Tightening his grip while attempting to pull himself up, the rusted metal whined in protest, and he released himself slowly back down. Searching for something, anything that would be of use he heard approaching footsteps. Looking up a masked face peered down at him. The concealed figure leaned forward with an outreached hand as footsteps continued to rapidly approach. Hesitating a moment but finally reaching out to grab the offered hand, the metal whined again and Ben’s hold faltered. He plummeted downward in a free fall of air, waiting for the force of the impact to stun him. Opening his eyes in confusion, a blue haze appeared around his body slowed his fall downward, until the cold solid ground met his feet. He immediately searched upward with no sign of his savior, seeing only a barrage of flashlights.
“Ben, Jesus, what the hell happened? Are you alright!” One of the CSI’s exclaimed rushing through a side door.
“I’m fine,” Ben, grunted suddenly feeling pain in his abdomen. “Have the teams split up and search the entire area, especially the loft directly above the crime scene. There was someone up there.”
Feeling a warm stickiness beginning to stream down his side and Ben made his way out of the warehouse. The thick moisture of the air hung heavy against his neck as he pulled off his raincoat and popped the back of his Bronco. He pulled off his torn and blood stained shirt, thankful the rain had temporarily ceased. The gash in his abdomen didn’t look deep, it was just a bloody mess. The trunk, refitted with compartments and bolted boxes, contained anything and everything a man would need to essentially live out of his car. Pulling out the first aid kit, he began bandaging his own gaping wound. Quickly finishing he opened the second half of the trunk. Unwrapped a clean T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Grunting slightly at the pain of the fresh wound he jerked his raincoat back on in irritation at the absurdity of the situation.
The same CSI, Walker, who had met him in the warehouse after the fall approached and Ben closed his trunk.
“There is no sign of anyone, who ever was up there is long gone now,” he explained.
“Okay thanks, can you guys get up there see what you can find,” Ben requested. None of them had apparently seen what he had and in the confusion of it all, no one had questioned how he survived the fall, yet. “If you find anything call me.”
Just as he began to feel relief Tom came jogging out of the building.
“Okay, Brass, are you going to tell me what happened in there or what?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Ben started choosing his words carefully. Tom was his partner but this was too much to handle right now. Ben could barely understand it much less try and explain it over the phone. “There was an accident, I was poking around upstairs and a grate broke, no big deal.”
“You were poking around?” Tom replied in frustrated sarcasm. “Does poking around include taking a fifty foot dive and walk away with barely a scratch?” Cursing his choice of words, Ben realized things weren’t as simple as he had hoped. “Your lack of response is stunning.”
“The team is checking out the loft of the warehouse for evidence,” Ben replied still weighing his decision not to tell Tom what he just witnessed.
“So that’s it?
“What else is there?” Ben replied as he got into his truck, leaving Tom standing on the curb. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
Whitten’s Grove
The twinkling of crystal rang in his mind. He opened his eyes to find himself standing in the middle of an empty lavishly ornate ballroom. Laughter, music, and talking hummed in his ears, he searched, seeing no one. Looking again, she stood before him with a wide open smile, her eyes glowing, wearing the flower dress he remembered. Taking her in his arms, a familiar warmth washed over him and they began to dance. Swirling throughout the room with her, he felt elated, complete. She pulled him toward her, whispering his name, as her sweet scent wafted through his senses. Her hair brushing through his hands, a smile crept over his face.
Abruptly the room went dark. He couldn’t move and she disappeared from his arms. Hearing her screams he struggled to move but his body remained unresponsive. Yelling out to her the words were silenced as they escaped his lips.
Sitting up with a jolt his head slammed into the roof of the car, awakening him fully. Silently cursing while opening the window the cool ocean air hit his face and woke up his mind. Lingering images of the dream remained but a deep breath amnaged to quell the residual panic in his gut.
Ben hadn’t dreamt of her in years. She could outwit the most cunning prankster, out think the best of the brains and brighten the gloomiest of days. His mind was suddenly overflowing with images from his past. Her face as he remembered it appeared smiling again, and he felt a soothing warmth spread across his body.
Ben also remembered the reason behind his journey to the beachside town and his stomach tightened.
This new case had become complicated. Starting with the unbelievable events of the previous evening. He now stood in a place he knew all to well. Whitten’s Grove, he and the victim’s home town.
Ben pulled himself out of the car and walked around to the trunk. The cool ocean breeze was thick with moisture and he drank it in one breath at a time. Watching the waves crash along the shoreline he pulled out a bottle of water, his toothbrush, and toothpaste.
What had happened in the warehouse was real and whomever it was that was with then in the building had abilities beyond his comprehension. He was anxious to find out the person’s identity and connection to the murders. Logically he was also a bit hesitant about meeting them in a dark alley anytime in the near future.
The motivation behind the anonymous visitor was still bothering. If they were somehow involved with the murders why take the risk of being discovered to…do what ever it was he or she was doing? Even if they has left some piece of evidence behind, why the rescue? Not ungrateful, it was simply illogical.The fall would have taken him out of the picture and effectively erased any knowledge of the events he had witnessed. So why risk being caught again and come back to save him from certain death?
Finishing his morning ritual Ben pulled on his trench coat and headed for town.
Not needing his GPs he headed straight for his destination, the home of Amanda Tate. Making quick work of shaving he arrived in front of the house twenty minutes later. Checking his watch it was about ten am and he made his way up to the house. A classic two story Victorian, the outside was a pale yellow with white accents while the garden and foliage was popping with pinks, yellows and orange.
Ringing the bell he waited patiently until a man, mid forties opened the door. His face was sleep deprived and sunken.
“May I help you?”
“Yes sir,” Ben started, his heart truly hurting for these families loss. “I am truly sorry to bother you but I am Special Agent Mitchell. Do you have a few moments to speak with me?”
“Yes of course come in,” the man replied wearily as he invited Ben into the home. “The gentleman on the phone said you would be coming. Please sit down.”
“Thank you,” Ben replied taking seat in the chair next to the white stone fireplace. As the father excused himself for a moment Ben took in the warmth of the house, it’s walls bursting with family photos, each inch of space inviting and reminiscent of better times for this family.
As the man re entered the room he was not alone, leading his fragile wife into the room . Ben wondered what these two people were before this tragedy. Unfortunately he did know whomever they were, they would never be the same again.
After placing a small voice recorder on the table in front of them, he went through the standard questions, had their daughter been acting strangle in the past few weeks or months? Was their anyone new in her life? What were her goals? Did she have an plans to travel in the immediate future?
Their answers were heart felt and honest. They knew nothing and were at a loss as to why this could have happened.
“If you had a recent picture of Amanda I could take with me, that would be helpful,” Ben finally requested.
“Ron, Amanda’s graduation picture is in my top drawer will you get it?” his wife said quietly as the man nodded and rose from the couch shuffling out of the room.
“I am truly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Tate,” Ben offered, need to fill the empty silence.
“Agent Mitchell,” the woman started with more strength in her voice than he expected.
“Yes ma’am,” Ben replied earnest to hear what she had to say.
“Are you a religious man,” she asked.
“No ma’am I am not,” Ben replied truthfully.
“Good, than I am going to assume you are of an open mind,” she replied, looking back for her husbands return.
“Ma’am?” Ben questioned feeling confused.
“Agent Mitchell our daughter was special,” she started.
“Yes Ma’am I am sure she was a wonderful…”
“No, I mean she was special,” she said is a whispered voice motioning for him to move closer. “Amanda was Okaria, with abilities that many would believe to be a curse. Amanda embraced them, learned from them.”
“If I may ask, can you clarify what kind of abilities you are referring to,” he asked, still unsure of what she was trying to say.
“Here it is Agent Mitchell, this is the most recent we have,” Mr. Tate said as he re entered the room. Mrs. Tate gave Ben a warning look and he nodded understanding although still confused by the conversation.
“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Tate,” he said as he rose from the chair. “I promise you that I am going to do everything I can to find out who did this. And please if you think of anything else please give me a call.”
He exited the house more confused than he was when he went in. Walking down the pathway to his car he wondered what Mrs. Tate was eluding to as far as Amanda’s abilities.
Ben got back in his car and started his laptop, he hoped that he could get a signal and that Whitten’s Grove wasn’t as unchanged as it looked. The internet booted right up and he linked to the FBI website. Going into the database he looked up Amanda’s name. It spit out five thousand possibilities. Next he tried narrowing the search to just California, that narrowed it to fifteen hundred and finally he took a leap and added the word psychic.
Five links. He read the five links and found them all to be about Amanda Tate and her amazing gift. She was able to apparently heal the sick by pouring roses from her palms. It was a small article, widely received as a hoax.
Had he found a link?
Ben pulled out his phone calling Tom.
“Hey, I just got done with the Tate’s and I think I might have something,” Ben said into the phone. “research all of the victims names in the database and link the word psychic. Yeah….Tom…just do it….call me when you get the results. Thanks.”
Ben headed back toward the freeway when his stomach started grumbling and he felt a caffeine headache approaching. With a line of shops and restaurants in the middle of town he looked one in particular. Finding it with a grin he parked the truck, grabbed his laptop and headed inside.
The small café with it’s limited seating and welcoming atmosphere was empty, perfect. Ben took a seat, ordered a sandwich off the deli menu and a large cola. Settling in, he fired up his laptop and began typing up his report of the conversation he’d had with Amanda’s parents. Pulling out the recorder to ensure he hadn’t missed anything he listened to the recorded conversation again. The last part of the conversation with Amanda’s mother bothered him, what was Okaria? Was it a slang term for gifted or psychic. The way she said it, there was meaning behind it.
Opening up an explorer window he Googled the word, trying several different spellings. He found user names, a Japanese radio station and an Anime page. Nothing that remotely resembled anything psychic or special.
He phone buzzed in his pocket and he looked seeing Paul’s name.
“Mitchell,” he said into the phone.
“Mitchell, this is Paul,” he heard on the other end.
“Sir, I was just going to send you an update on the case we have found some interesting leads and I,” Ben replied, unconsciously straightening his back.
“Mitchell, your current assignment has been closed.”
“What…Sir, I must object,” Ben exclaimed into the phone.
“Mitchell it’s done,” Paul replied unemotionally. “The local authorities will be handling it from here on out. Your work on the case has been phenomenal I have been approved to let you take some time off.”
“So you’re just pulling the plug on this?” Ben replied in frustration. “There is a killer on the loose, we a have several possible leads, and you want me to take a vacation?”
“Mitchell, it’s over,” Paul replied in frustration. “Go to the beach, find a girlfriend, get drunk. I don’t care what you do but the case is closed and your work on it is to stop immediately, end of story. ”
“Yes sir,” Ben replied in submission, holding back the flurry of curse words wanting to burst forth. “Thank you sir.”
Paul muttered something about an incoming call and the conversation ended.
“Crap,” Ben muttered as he closed the computer in frustration.
His food arrived after a few minutes of his brooding and he dug in. Feeling full but still frustrated he recounted the conversation with Paul, knowing in his gut something was missing. He wasn’t being told the whole story. For the FBI to simply walk away from such a high profile case was against everything he knew. Even in those times events were pulled beyond their jurisdiction the Fed held strong.
Hearing a bell clang as the door of the café he continued to brood and started to dial Tom when he heard a familiar voice making him look up.
“Slow down sweetheart, yes of course the city council was invited. The invitations went out 6 months ago…David, if you don’t calm down you are going to have a coronary at thirty. Okay…yes, I will double check with Melissa…yeah, okay…I love you…bye…” he watched the woman close her phone and with a sigh she looked up looking across the counter at the woman behind it.
“The usual, Kat,” Rita asked grabbing a cup.
“Yes, please…actually can you make it a double?” Kat replied as Ben realized with a sigh who was standing just feet away..
The reality of her standing in the café in front of him not only brought back a flood of memories it also grounded him in the fact that he was home. The buildings, streets and people that he had tried to treat like any others were not void history but bustling with the ventures of his man’s past.
“Busy day dear?” the hostess of the café greeted.
“I don’t think busy is the right word, more like psychotic,” Kat replied with a giggle as she dug in her purse for her wallet. Her cell phone rang again and she groaned. Struggling to answer it, as the contents of her purse spilled onto the floor. “Oh goodness…” she exclaimed.
Ben quickly rose to assist her as she struggled to answer her phone again.
“Melissa, can I call you back? Thanks.” Kat flipped the phone closed and stooped to pick up her scattered belongings.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said as she gathered the remainder of the items and stood up to face him.
“Thanks, I am such a klutz,” Kat started and then stopped as she realized to whom she was speaking. “Ben!”
“Hey,” Ben replied with a crooked smile.
“Ben what are you doing here, after we didn’t hear back about the wedding we figured you weren’t coming…” Kat exclaimed as she threw her arms around him in a hug.
“Well I…wait, wedding,” Ben asked as she pulled back from him.
“You’d know that if you would read your mail once in a while,” Kat teased. “And don’t try to tell me you didn’t get the invitation because I sent it registered mail!”
“So that’s why the post office keeps calling,” Ben aloud to himself and then replied sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”
“Kat,” the café attendant called placing a cup of coffee on the counter.
“Thanks, Rita,” Kat said as she took her coffee. Ben led her to his table and she sat down across form him with a wide smile. “I am so happy to see you, David is going to be thrilled! Wait a minute, if you didn’t know about the wedding what are you doing here? Is your family okay, has something happened?”
“No, no, everyone is fine. I just…I had some vacation time and thought it would be nice to re visit my roots,” Ben replied thinking it better to leave the actual reason for his visit a moot point.
“Well your timing is perfect. Everyone will be arriving for the wedding in the next few days, and we can all catch up,” Kat replied with the most genuine smile he had seen in years. “So how are you? We haven’t heard from you in months, are you still in LA?”
“Yes, I am still in LA and still working for the bureau,” Ben replied as he felt the anxiety of his life or, lack of, building within his chest.
“And Emily?”
“We broke up about a year ago actually,” Ben replied with a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry, I thought Emily was really nice, we had a good time last time we visited with you both.”
“Yeah, it is for the best,” Ben, replied, anxious to get the topic of conversation off him. “Enough about me, tell me about you, David, the wedding of the century.” Just as he finished, Kat’s cell rang again. She looked to see whom it was and left the phone alone looking back up at Ben.
“Sometimes you just have to ignore it.” Ben offered.
“If I don’t, I think I will go insane,” Kat replied as she took a long drink of her coffee. “It has been just crazy. When David and I first got engaged I had thoughts of a small intimate wedding by the beach or something. But with David working for the mayor’s office…this wedding has turned into the social gathering of the year. The guest list alone is 600 people, Ben. 600, I didn’t even know that 600 people lived in Whitten’s Grove.”
“Do you have help?” Ben asked, seeing an opportunity to poke around town without stirring up too many questions.
“Help, I have too much help if there is such a thing. I have three assistants; a wedding planner and then we have David’s staff that all have assistants plus our parents. I am telling you, if this wedding doesn’t happen soon I am not going to make it down the aisle,” Kat replied breathlessly smiling.
‘What can I do to help?”
“Really?”
“Anything,” Ben replied, watching the relief of a friend flood her face.
“I have this list,” she started, pulling out her bursting day planner. “If I can give you just a few things to pick up that would be such a terrific help…”
“Do it,” Ben said as his phone rang. “Make the list as long as you want I will take care of it for you.” Standing as Kat began making her list for him he walked outside the café to take the call.
“Mitchell,” he said into the phone.
“Brass, what the hell is going on, has Paul called you yet,” Tom voice burst into the phone.
“Ah, yeah about half an hour ago,” Ben replied calmly.
“What are we going to do,” Tom asked. “You aren’t going to just let this go right, we have more to go on than anyone since the case broke! I checked out the lead you gave me on the link to the other murders and you were right. All of the victims were known for their abilities. Some more than others but it is a definite link, the only link. And the coroners report came back.”
Ben hadn’t anticipated Tom’s reaction to the case being dropped and couldn’t help but agree with him.
“And, all of the fluids were drained out of our vic’s body,” Tom replied morbidly. “Charlie was trying to figure out how when suits came and took the body.”
“Jesus,” Ben replied in frustration knowing full well he should just walk away. “Tom, I understand what you are saying but there is nothing we can do.”
“Where you going to be,” Tom inquired.
“I have a thing I have to do,” Ben said being purposely obscure. “I’ll check in with you in a few days.”
“Later,” Tom replied.
Ben hung up the phone and moved back into the café where Kat was waiting for him. Busily writing on a piece of paper.
“I really appreciate this Ben,” Kat expressed, not looking up from her work. “It should only take a few hours and then you can meet us at the party.”
“Party?”
“Oh, I completely forgot. Yeah, we are having a cocktail party at the Biltmore tonight at eight. Just about everyone is flying in today and we figured they might be hungry.” Kat said, handing him the list.
“Do you need me to pick anyone up?” Ben asked as he reviewed the list. Various different things to do, all simple but he could see how it would be exhausting.
“Nope, David has arranged to have everyone picked up and taken to the hotel via limo,” stuffing her day planner back into her purse.
“Nice,” Ben replied with a smirk.
“So I will see you at eight,” Kat replied grabbing her coffee while looking at her watch, “I wish I had more time to catch up but I’m late for an appointment. I can’t tell you how happy I am are here!” Kat bent over giving him another hug before rushing toward the door. “If you run into any problems call me!”
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Ben replied as he watched her run out the door to her car down the street.
Shaking his head, sitting back in his chair he felt the familiarity of his previous life seeping into his pores. A warmth of family he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Katherine Beckham or Kat as they called her, was one of several life long friends he had made growing up in Whitten’s Grove. There were seven of them in the group. Together they grew up , learned about life, heartache and each other. After college they separated following the paths of their own lives and dreams. Kat was always the glue that kept them together with emails, cards, visits and phone calls. Kat had always said that the seven of them were permanently attached and she insisted that that no matter where they went or how much time had passed they would always be family.
Go to the beach, get a girlfriend and get drunk…
Thinking back to his conversation with Paul and Tom, it might not have been such a horrible suggestion. Would it be so awful to lose him self in, reviewing his carefully organized list provided by Kat. Candles, flowers, champagne fountains and a catalog of several other wedding frivolity. Taking a swig of his coke while pushing away the nagging thoughts of an unsolved case, he folded the list and put it in his pocket, “piece of cake.”
*
The Reception
“Piece of cake my ass,” Ben muttered, as he stood at the bar of the Biltmore gladly accepting the whiskey sour put in front of him. Desperately drowning the fluffy details of the day the absurdity that he volunteered for the torture made his smirk as he took the drink in hand. Turning to survey the droves of people joining him in the ballroom, he eyed the crowd. So far he knew none of the arriving party guests and if he did none of them knew him. Turning back to the bar he happily drank down the last of the tart liquid and proceeded to order another. Feeling a tap on his shoulder he turned toward it, a smiling David standing before him with an outstretched hand.
“Ben, it’s been too long,” David said with a grin.
“Agreed,” Ben, replied as he shook the man’s hand, David, aka the gleeful groom. In an Armani suit and power tie this man was not the childhood friend he remembered. That boy had struggled in school from being more concerned with Star Trek lore than Algebra, and lived in faded jeans and heavy metal t-shirts.
“When Kat told me you’d made it I was overjoyed to say the least,” David said while motioning to the bartender. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, man.”
“Glad I could come,” Ben, replied with a smile as David ordered a martini. “Looks like this is going to be quite a gathering.”
“Yeah, word has gotten around I guess. The more the merrier I say,” David replied with a salesman smile “You can never have too many friends, right?”
“Amen to that,” Ben replied, raising his glass to the thought. Although silently questioning how many of these people were actually his friends and not just attending for the free alcohol and liver pâté.
“I have to say I am really excited to be bringing the gang all back together again. I know that we all have our own lives now but it is important that we all remember where we came from, wouldn’t you agree?” David continued with a glazing sense of accomplishment.
“Definitely,” Ben replied realizing how much David sounded like the politicians he loathed in LA. The ones who authorize the slashing of budgets, but then complain when the crime rate goes through the roof from lack of man power.
“The gang should be here soon, until then feel free to mingle. Make some connections, Whitten’s Grove’s reach is further than it used to be, and like we said you can never have too many friends.” David said with a wink and a smile disappearing into the crowd.
Ben was a little more than unsettled by the conversation, feeling like he was in an episode of the twilight zone. Ben always knew David would be a success, he just wasn’t expecting Bill Clinton Jr..
Taking the second drink a bit slower, Ben watched Kat and David greet their guests. Again, the sight struck him as odd. Each of them was on opposite sides of the room working in a circle. If this were his engagement party as it was, his soon to be wife would be right beside him the whole time. An admitted romantic, probably more so than most. Ben unfortunately had a record of falling short on the relationship side. At thirty three he was still looking for the girl who would take him as he was, flaws and all.
Seeing out of the corner of his eye one of the seven and his oldest friend make his way though the crowd, Ben couldn’t help but smirk knowing that not everyone had changed. Seeing his friend approach, the look was classic. Light blue polo shirt, khaki trousers, argyle socks and horn rimmed glasses. Knowing the man since first grade the look was expected, Justin was nothing if not a creature of habit. Last Ben heard he was working on his third Masters and running a lab out of M.I.T..
“Justin,” Ben called out, waving the man over to the bar.
“Ben,” Justin exclaimed, smiling cheerfully while waving back. Finally joining him, solidly shaking his hand. “Kat said you weren’t coming.”
“I had a change of plans and here I am,” replying with the same enthusiasm.
“Thank God, I was hoping there would be someone here I knew to talk to,” he said with a sigh ordering a beer and taking a seat next to Ben at the bar. “Weddings make me uncomfortable, they’re…so…formal.”
“Last time I looked this isn’t a wedding, Justin, this is a party,” Ben replied.
“No, a party is the seven of us at Aisha’s dad’s cabin graduation weekend,” Justin replied with a knowing grin. “Now that was a party.”
“Yes, I would have to agree that was a party.”
“This is not a party, this is a group of socialites kissing up to the new “it crowd”. Trying make connections and insurances that their taxes won’t go up or that their son or daughter gets into the private school of their choice. Bureaucracy at it’s best, that’s what this is…”
“Justin, you have gotten blunt in your old age,” Ben replied with a laugh.
“No, I have gotten educated,” Justin, replied with a smirk. “You work for the government Ben, you know the unending politics of today. I used to think Whitten’s Grove was immune, I can clearly see now that it’s not.” Justin said motioning to David’s presence in the crowd.
“I am sure that David is just doing what he has to. Someone has to ensure Whitten’s Grove stays the way it always has. Sometimes that means making nice with the elders you know?”
“I hope so. I would hate to think that we had lost him to the power hungry mob.”
“Even if he has gotten slightly off track, Kat will keep him in line. She always has before.”
“You’re right; it’s just my cynicism breaking through.”
“So you still at M.I.T?”
“Yeah, but I am being beckoned to the private sector. My research is losing funding and the grants just aren’t out there anymore.”
“Remind me what you are working on again?”
“I was working on the migratory patterns of the Austrian Quail but I was recently selected to join a privately funded research genealogy team.”
“Wow, that sound interesting,” Ben replied with a small ounce of dread. While Justin was one of his oldest and dearest friends, he tended to get lost in his own thoughts, excluding the rest of the world in the process. It meant for meager small talk.
“It is actually. We have been tasked to research the lineage of an ancient text that was found in…look, there are Tanya and Adam,” Justin said interrupting himself. “I’ll be right back,” as he walked off to greet the couple.
Ben silently thanked the heavens for the save and began to survey the room as it rapidly filled to capacity. Amidst the polite chaos his gaze stopped on a navy blue dress. He watched as she crossed the room stopping to say hello to Kat with a huge hug and a small smile. Her brown hair swaying and bouncing a little against her shoulders as they chatted, the subtle highlights of blonde lighting up her face. Her deep brown eyes, olive skin, and pink lips made the usual cosmetics unnecessary and he suddenly felt his stomach tightening.
Closing his mouth and turning away to look into his drink. Ben tried desperately to unknot the tightening in his stomach as he replayed their relationship in his mind.
Friends, always friends. Back in the day, Rachel was Ryan’s girlfriend, and one of the infamous seven. Head cheerleader, prom queen, captain of the field hockey team but given all of the natural success she was not a snob. Rachel was a nice popular girl who was his best friends girlfriend. They had all spent a lot of time together over the years, through school functions, sporting events, parties, they were always together the bunch of them. After high school when Ryan entered his car racing faze, Ben would sit with Rachel in the stands. Holding her hand and reassuring her that Ryan was not going to die, she became the closest of all of his friends. Life moved on, Ryan went to Wall street, she left for Europe, and he went to Virginia. Ben had heard through Kat that the couple broke up shortly after Rachel arrived in Europe and for a fleeting moment he thought about calling her, but then he met Emily. No matter what he knew that they would always be friends, so why as he watched her float from guest to guest as Kat introduce her to the room, did his stomach continue to knot and his chest tighten at their slow approach? Finishing off his drink, he heard Kat’s approach “And finally, I believe this one should be a friendly face,” Kat said as Ben looked up at Rachel, standing in front of him, looking as uneasy as he felt.
. “Ben,” she said, as the uneasiness he’d seen vanished from her face, replaced by a bright smile.
“Rachel, it has definitely… been a while,” Ben replied pulling her into a warm embrace as Kat got stepped away from their meeting. Feeling Rachel’s back stiffen against him, he quickly released her and she pulled away from him, avoiding his gaze while taking a seat at the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Great,” Rachel answered with another smile as the bartender met them waiting for her order. “Can I have a vodka martini, three olives, please?”
“Another for you, sir?”
“Please,” Ben replied, an awkward silence falling between them as his stomach continued to revolt against him.
“So what have you been up to, Mr. Mitchell? It has been a long time,” she finally said breaking the silence while still staring down into her martini.
“I am working for the FBI out of LA,” Ben said with a hesitant smile, uncomfortable by her use of his last name as if their introduction was random.
“That’s exciting,’ she replied a little too enthusiastically. “And dangerous, if I remember correctly your mother used to get anxiety attacks when you slid for a base. How is she handling the stress of having a Fed in the family?”
“She has come to terms with it,” he started happy for the conversation even if it was about him. “I think she still hopes that it is something I need to get out of my system and as soon as I do I will be a nice lawyer or doctor,” Ben replied making Rachel laugh. “I haven’t spoken to you since you left for Europe, can you believe it has been that long?”
“No…Europe…that…was a long time ago,” she started taking a sip of her drink almost looking reflective. “After Europe, I finished with my Masters at Berkley and then I was recruited by a New York R & D firm. I have been there ever since…” trailing off, her sight suddenly set beyond him into the crowd. Turning to see what caught her attention, Ben silently groaned to himself.
“Hey Ben, nice to see that you made it,” Ryan said flatly his eyes focused on Rachel.
“Hey yourself, take a seat. Rachel and I were just getting caught up,” Ben offered watching the pair carefully. He’d heard Ryan and Rachel’s breakup had not been pretty and was curious to see if the sparks had died in seven years.
“Thanks, but I actually need to speak with Rachel,” Ryan replied politely, his eyes never leaving her. She on the other hand tried to avoid his gaze like the plague. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Hey, Ryan, how’s Wall Street?” Rachel asked with an loud smile as if just realizing her was standing there.
“Rachel, please?” Ryan said, Ben couldn’t tell if he was pleading or demanding.
“Sorry, Ben, will you excuse us,” Rachel replied reluctantly as she followed Ryan thru the crowd. Ryan tried to lead her toward the exit but she stopped on the dance floor, jus as a slow theme began. The dance from what he could see was slow and stiff. They were talking quietly, whispering into each other’s ears.
Ben quickly finished his drink, desperate to douse the abrupt internal fires of unrecognized jealousy. Not at all accustomed to the intense emotions bubbling within his chest, he became oddly restless, especially for a girl he’d known as a friend most of his life and now seemingly a complete stranger .
Rachel abruptly pushed out of Ryan’s embrace, slicing at him with words unknown and turned, leaving his sight.
Internally conflicted as to what he should do, Ben took a breath, it was after all none of his business. The protectiveness in him prevailing he rose from his seat following the direction she ran. It led down a flight of stairs to the bathrooms and an exit. He paused, feeling like an ass and not sure what to do next.
“Rachel,” He called as a small blush came to his face while knocking on the Women’s room door. “Rachel, are you in there?”
“Ben,” she said smiling as she sat against the outside wall of the back of the building.
“Rachel…I…”he stammered quickly turning, finding himself suddenly outside in the parking lot trying to hide the confusion of the moment.
“Ben, are you ok?”
“I…I’m not sure… I came to find you…” realizing that he needed to lay off the whiskey sours.
“I was just getting some air,” holding up her hand revealing a cigarette.
“Yeah, a…right,” Ben replied consciously trying to recompose himself. “Is a…is everything okay with you and Ryan? It looked like I was gonna have to break up a brawl they way you two were acting on the dance floor?”
“Oh, yeah…that…Well, Ryan just can’t seem to let go sometimes, you know? He thinks I am still his Rachel…. that’s all, no big deal. He’ll get over it.”
“Yeah, Ryan was always a little possessive when it came to you,” Ben said feeling himself easing back into the moment.
“He was?” Rachel, asked a relaxed but puzzled look on her face. “I don’t remember that, of course there are a lot of things I don’t remember these days.”
“Are you kidding me,” Ben replied as he took a cigarette from the pack sitting on the air conditioning unit. “If any guy looked at you sideways he was always ready to kill. I saved many lives when you two were an item. Probably why I enjoy being a Fed so much.”
“Do you enjoy it?” Rachel asked suddenly seeming genuinely interested. “I mean really enjoy it? You are putting a lot on the line for your job.”
“Actually it’s funny you ask me that because I have been asking myself the same question.” Ben began as Rachel moved toward him lighting his cigarette with her lighter. “Thanks. Do I love my job? Yes. But somewhere along the way it became everything, and I didn’t make time for anything or anyone else and the rest has seemed to disappear.”
“Like Emily,” Rachel asked hesitantly.
“Like Emily,” Ben replied as he looked to the ground reflectively.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. Kat told me you two had…”
“I miss this…”
“You miss what, standing out back having a smoke just to escape the social party of the year. I don’t happen to remember us doing…”
“No,” Ben replied with a self-conscious laugh, catching her gaze. His tone becoming suddenly serious. “ The old days.”
A hesitant silence falling between them, Ben saw Rachel opening her mouth to answer when they heard the faint sound of a gunshot from inside. Wordlessly, both jolting for the door, Ben reached it first putting his arm up pushing Rachel behind him as he opened it. Creeping inside, they hear the muffled sounds of shouting. Carefully climbing the steps and reaching the top, remaining low to the ground they peered around the corner taking in the apparent gunman. Dressed in a full suit and tie screaming incoherently, the aggressor waved a small handgun poignantly around the room. A second man dressed in police blues, trying to calm him down began to rise from off the ground as a shot exploded from the weapon into the floor.
“You stay here,” Ben, mouthed as he went belly down and made a break for the nearest table.
“Don’t you understand!” the man shouted to no one in particular. “The end is coming, and it all starts here in Whitten’s Grove.”
“Son, I understand you are upset,” the officer replied in a calm steady voice. “Why don’t you put the gun down and tell me what you are talking about. I…I promise I will everything I can to help.”
“HELP,” the young man shouted back. “You can’t help! You are all dead, we are all dead! I have to end it now!”
“No…that’s…that’s not what you want to do…” the police officer said taking a step forward. “Now just give me the gun…”
Raising the weapon the gunman fired again directly at the officer. Panic engulfed the room as a second shot was fired and the assailant fell howling to the ground.
Leaping from behind the table, Ben pinned the suspect to the ground while the officer grabbed the man’s gun.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked his heart racing with adrenaline, looking to the officer who was seemingly unharmed holding the gun.
“Yeah… I thought I was…I thought I was dead…” the officer replied breathless, in utter disbelief. “I don’t know how he missed me.”
Nightmares
“Thankfully no one was hurt and the man, suffering a gunshot to the calf has been taken to the local Whitten’s Grove hospital for treatment. From there he will be taken to jail pending arraignment.” A local reporter said as a live feed from the hotel broadcast the events of the evening to the entire world, or at least those who attended. Bright green cars lined up outside the hotel, all were identified as “the eco cab” the only ecological choice in Whitten’s Grove.
“Cool aren’t they,” David commented stepping up next to Ben as they watched the news crew’s reporting from the valet station. “They are the only cab company in Whitten’s Grove now. All of the cabs are electrically powered thus generating lower fares, less damage to the environment, lower overall maintenance and ninety percent funding from the Fed. The city council was able to lower city taxes by 2% last year. It was the forward thinking that got me into the Mayor’s office.” Ben wasn’t sure how to respond to the comment, the arrogance of it struck him beyond the benefits to the city. “I appreciate what you did in there tonight, you were a real hero.”
Ben took a deep drag of his cigarette waiting for the ‘but’ he knew was coming.
“Don’t get me wrong you certainly saved the day, but be careful Ben. Bravery like yours, as respected as it is can sometimes cause a negative ripple on the local support structure. We don’t want to tarnish the good name of our local police force, do we?” David stated suavely just as the local media caught sight of them, asking if Ben was the man who saved the Police chief and David quickly responded. “Yes, yes this is one of the men who assisted in bringing this awful situation under control.”
“But isn’t it true that he is the man who disabled and disarmed the man who allegedly took the your engagement reception hostage?” A reporter asked as Ben turned away, catching sight of Rachel in the lights of the hotel as she moved across the parking lot. In all of the confusion, he had completely lost sight of her until now.
“Our Whitten’s Grove police had and have the situation completely under control…” David went on to explain as Ben gave up and went inside. Slowly the frenzy began to subside and after giving his statement numerous times and calling it into his own office. Ben walked into the main lobby seeing many of the guests were clearing out, either going home or up to their rooms to…
“Damn it!” he silently cursed, suddenly realizing the one thing he had forgotten to do. Get a room. Walking out into the main lobby, he requested a room for the week. Unfortunately, despite his current celebrity status, all of the rooms had been booked and he would have to stay somewhere else. Trying to negotiate but having no luck, he heard the clicking of heels just behind him.
“Problems,” Rachel asked as he turned watching her walk toward him from the entrance to the bar.
“I forgot to book a room and there are none available,” Ben said with a smirk.
“Really,” Rachel replied with a small smirk. “Come on, Fed,” she added with a laugh and a roll of her eyes. Following her to the elevator she turned facing him. “What, no luggage?”
“My trip was a little impromptu,” Ben replied feeling suddenly awkward as he stepped into the elevator.
“007, working on a case?” Rachel asked with an edge of sarcasm as she chose the floor of her room.
Ben, feeling caught off guard by the bluntness of the remark, was unsure of how to respond, tried to read her expression.
“So Agent Mitchell, do you always wait until the last minute to come to a wedding three hours away from where you live, with no luggage, or were you here on business?” She asked obviously not holding anything back still staring straight ahead. “So I am going to guess you got cornered and decided to grace us with your presence.”
Giving her a sheepish smile but remaining silent, the elevator doors opened.
“Kat told me about meeting you in the coffee shop,” Rachel added with a devious smile leading him to the right. Walking past about a dozen doors on either side, they finally reached her room. She pulled out the card key and unlocked the door pushing it open. Stepping in together, Ben’s cell phone rang.
“Mitchell,” he said watching Rachel set down her keys and purse, kicking off her shoes as she walked toward the open window.
“Brass,” Tom’s voice said as Ben became captivated by the moonlight as it silhouetted the curves of Rachel’s body.
“What’s up?”
“I know that officially the case is closed but I thought you might be interested to know that our killer has struck again.”
“Damn it, where?” Ben asked, unable to pull his eyes away from the window. Seeing her delicate features reflected as they basked in the warmth of the celestial beams. Her eyes glowed against the brightness, turning into dark pools revealing an unexpected sadness, desperation. Turning away his breath caught in his throat, a feeling of unforeseen dread consumed him.
“Las Vegas,’ Tom replied confidently.
“Sin City, great,” Ben replied trying desperately to focus. “Have you seen the police report yet?”
“Not yet but I have a buddy over there that is going to help us out,” Tom replied with some enthusiasm. “Hey where are you?”
“Ah…at a friends wedding,” Ben replied. “Send me the file as soon as you have it.”
“You got it, Brass” he heard before hanging up the phone.
Taking a moment to digest the conversation and he finally turned back to Rachel.
Studying her for a moment, contemplating the rush of need that was filling his body he decided to join her, awing at a full and bright moon that seemingly took up the entire sky.
“Wow…silly, right,” Rachel said self-consciously, realizing he was there and quickly twisted toward the lamp. Catching her hand in his, her eyes closed as she took a deep breath and then looked back to him.
“Not silly. Beautiful,” Ben whispered as his hand lingering on her wrist.
Her cell phone vibrated on the table by the door breaking the moment. She pulled away from him, crossing the room grabbing the buzzing device. Picking her purse up from off the bed while simultaneously putting her shoes back on, she pulled out a second key for the door.
“I have to go,” she explained. The warmth and vulnerability he had just seen in her eyes disappeared as the cold hardness returned. “I have an errand to run.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ben offered wanting to recapture the moment they had lost.
“Normally I would say sure but its boring work stuff,” she replied hastily while avoiding his gaze.
“At 10pm?”
“Yeah, crazy, huh,” Rachel said with a bright smile. “What can I say, I am committed.
Here is the second key to the room in case you need to leave to get ice or something. Okay gotta go. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get back, nite.”
“Rachel…”
“Bye!” Rachel said cutting him off and rushing out the door.
Sitting on the bed, he exhaled a long breath he realized he had been holding from the moment he touched her. Still slightly perplexed by her exit he pushed it aside understanding the demands of a job. Looking around the room seeing her clothes neatly hung in the closet, her shoes lined up in a row, and finally a small pink bag sitting on the counter beside the sink. Staring at it for a moment he abruptly realized that it was the same pink bag he had given to her for her sixteenth birthday. A wide grin spread across his face and he chuckled aloud, Deciding to gather what he could as far as clothes and work items from his car Ben grabbed the second room key and headed down the elevator and out to the parking lot. Stepping just beyond the valet station he caught sight of Rachel moving across the lit area. Instinctively stepping back out of sight, Ben watched as a plain yellow cab pulled up. Opening the back passenger door she stepped inside and the cab drove off.
Waiting until the cab was out of sight he began the walk to his car. Piling the necessary clothes and toiletries into a duffle back. Replaying the scene of Rachel’s exit again in his mind, something nagged at him about it. Pulling out his laptop, he closed everything up and headed back inside. Ben heard the sound of music and laughter emanating from the bar, and hailing the bellhop Ben handed him a ten spot and his room number.
He entered the bar when unexpected roar of applause hit him. Ryan and Justin suddenly appeared pulling him in, brutishly smacking him on the shoulder.
“The man of the hour has arrived,” Justin yelled to the rest of the room.
“You’re favorite and ours, Special Agent Benjamin Mitchell!” Ryan cheered as the room erupted again in shouts of praise and applause.
Nodding in embarrassment, a beer shoved in his hand Ben relented to the festivity and joined the party.
“That was beyond bravery that was…”
“Suicidal,” Aisha said finishing Justin’s statement walking up and giving him a friendly hug.
“Hey you!” he greeted embracing her in a hug. “Just doing my job.”
“Making the rest of us look like chumps in the face of danger,” Ryan commented taking a swig of his beer as well.
“That’s not fair; he diffused a very difficult situation. He is a hero; quit feeling so sorry for yourself!” Aisha chimed.
“This…this is not self pity. There is no self pity here, just envy and a touch of alcohol.”
“Who would have ever thought that something like that could ever happen here? Just goes to further support the decline of our society as a whole” Justin commented
“I wouldn’t have. Never in a million years.” Ryan added. “I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this place because of its lack of excitement.”
“Really, I thought you loved it here?” Aisha asked taking a sip of her own cocktail.
“Why would you have ever thought that?” Ryan challenged back as the rest of them laughed.
“You played football, you were student counsel president, and you wrote your graduation speech about the innocence of Whitten’s Grove. In college you started the…” she began to list.
“The foundation for the beautification of Whitten’s Grove,” Justin rolled out regally in assistance.
“Thank you,” she said. “And now you are saying you couldn’t wait to leave?”
“Aisha where have you been? All of those “things” and any others you can remember…”
“Like the annual holiday hospital and senior center visits,” Ben added with a smirk.
“That was all…” suppressing laughter as he thought back on the events, “that was all just a bunch of…well…crap…”
“Seriously,” she asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, I mean all of that shit was planned with the intent of wowing the college boards and get me the hell out of here! Without that I would have never been able to get into Berkley and secure an internship in New York.”
“Where he now resides, making so much money that he can’t keep track of it,” Ben chimed.
“Hell yeah,” Ryan said agreeing shamelessly.
“So you don’t care about this place, at all?” Aisha asked again.
“Nope.”
“That is so…it is so…” she responded speechlessly.
“Cold and callous,” Justin offered, focusing on his own cocktail.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Exactly the way it should be, it’s business,” Ryan reaffirmed simply.
“Your life is a business?” Ben asked, curious about where the conversation had gone.
“Yes.”
“Everything,” Justin asked.
“Everything; Work, relationships, day to day life, it is all apart of my business. I do what is needed to make a profit and cut my losses when the profits decline.”
The arrogance of the statement infuriated Ben tremendously, to think that they were all just numbers to him, profits to keep or sell. He had wondered why Ryan and Rachel had split so many years before but now he had a good idea.
“You are a selfish bastard you know that,” Justin said with a laugh trying to make a point but also lighten the mood.
“Thank you, cheers,” Ryan replied with a clink of his bottle to Justin’s, “shot’s all around, set it up!”
After a round of three tequila shots, Ben’s mind was feeling relaxed and he was not ashamed to admit that he was enjoying it. A wafting of sweet pears and strawberries filling his senses he turned and his heart once again skipped a beat as Rachel entered the bar to join them.
“Shot,” Ryan called seeing her as well, a hungry look prevalent in his eyes.
“Boys, boys, boys,” she said with a grinned sigh as she approached the bar. “What have you all been doing?”
“Waiting for you,” Ryan said suavely, making Ben want to knock him out cold on the spot.
“Is that for me,” she asked holding Ryan’s steady gaze as the bartender placed the filled shot glass in front of them.
“I don’t know, you looking for some heat?” Ryan replied as Ben choked on his drink.
“Cheesy Sheffield, but since you’re offering,” she said with confidence taking the shot down in an easy gulp, never breaking her gaze with him. “You’re such an ass.”
“Rachel, help me load the jukebox,” Aisha said pulling her by the hand across the room.
Calling the bartender over again, Ben glanced over at Ryan who’s mind was visibly planning his attack. Rachel stood with Aisha feverishly whispering and giggling. Her head tilted back slightly, catching Ben’s gaze and he quickly turned back to the bar and his beer. Cursing the awkwardness of it. Thirty years old and he was acting like a teenager.
In the next moment, she stood beside him at the bar her warmth enticing him. Ben met her gaze as she finally turned to him. Her face soft and yet confident, she motioned to his drink.
“May I?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said studying her beguiling expression as she took a sip of his beer. “Can I get you one?”
“I’m good.”
“Where have you been?” Ben asked with an easy smile.
“I was just thinking the same about you,” she replied, locking his gaze.
Someone in the bar called her name and she turned smiling, walking toward the man embracing him in a hug. The two laughed and talked as Ben watched. Rachel seemed not to pay any particular attention to his gaze, not even returning it as she enjoyed speaking with the stranger.
“So Ben, you have been with the FBI for what, five years now?” Ryan asked.
“Seven,” Ben replied tearing his gaze away from Rachel.
“So how much money you making,” Ryan asked him, oblivious to any consideration for privacy.
“Not as much as you.”
“You see this is what I am talking about,” he commented dramatically. “What are your plans for the future?”
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well there is a bad sign right there, you can’t work for the FBI for the rest of your life!” he replied indignantly.
“Why not,” Justin asked jumping into the conversation as Ben took another drink of his beer and Ryan ordered another for the crowd.
“Because there is no security, I mean honestly I respect what you do and all but are you ever going to have a life? Moreover, let’s be honest from what I see right now you don’t even have anything that resembles a life. You need a plan.”
“Alright I’ll bite. I assume you have a suggestion.”
“Well if you want something for your future, a wife, kids and all of that nonsense you should think about taking your skills and your credibility with the bureau and turning it into a lucrative business offering.”
“Such as,” Ben asked interested to see what his response would be.
“Personal security,” Ryan offered up shoving the fresh beer into his hand as Ben shook his head at the notion. “You shake your head now, but if you think about it, it makes sense.”
“Ryan I am not…”
“Just listen to me for a second. You and Emily, you two broke up because she couldn’t handle all of the danger, the late nights and such…”
“Emily and I…”
“Let me finish,” Ryan said cutting him off. “Whatever the reason your current lifestyle is not conducive to a family. If you even tried you would never see them and they would be at home constantly worrying if you are well…dead…”
“Ryan…” Justin tried to break in.
“So instead of putting your family and yourself through that kind of mental strain you could start your own business of personal security. It is a niche that needs to be filled, I know at least twenty executives that are looking for experienced well qualified personal…”
“Ryan,” Rachel said getting his attention and he turned toward her. She took the lapel of his jacket pulling him onto the dance floor.
Ben, while grateful for the save in ending the conversation was now again faced with the unexpected jealousy of watching Rachel with another man, and not just any other man, Ryan.
She had no problems keeping his attention as she swayed seductively against him whispering something into his ear. The song ended and they returned to the bar, each taking a shot of tequila. Joining them, Ben watched as Rachel, turning her body around keep to Ryan’s attention but also staying out of reach. She leaned softly against Ben’s leg, purposely putting herself between the two m
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The streets were empty and it has begun to rain. TWO different tenses in the first sentence. Pulling his trench coat up around his neck he exited his truck racing through the rain. PUT a comma after neck. Finally making it beyond the yellow tape he walked into the decrepit warehouse. PUT a comma after tape. The moisture of the air encouraged the pungent smell of urine, blood and stale cigarettes. His eyes watered as he caught his breath and shook of OFF the rain,
“Congratulations on the collar Mitchell,” COMMA after collar. a fellow federal agent called to him as he moved between the individual officers and the small piles of equipment. BETWEEN refers to two things. Among refers to several things.
“Thanks, Mike,” Ben said with an easy smile.
Chestnut brown hair that complimented his olive skin and green eyes, Ben’s Mitchell’s suit and trenchcoat did little to hide his athletic build and muscular frame. THE way this is phrased, you have his hair doing little to hide…..With seven years under his belt at the FBI the congratulations was for their latest conviction. COMMA after FBI. You have sentence fragments and more missing commas just on this first page.
You won’t attract an agent or publisher unless you have this letter-perfect. You need to start with an edit. While I’m not quibbling with your potential, you won’t reach your goals unless you fix these things and all the rest like them. If I were a publisher or agent, knowing what I do about the business, I would not have read beyond the error in the first sentence. Do keep working, refining, and polishing, as well as correcting. I think you have the beginning of something good. Your FBI agents sound too “typical” which maybe FBI types are, but the thing that sounds like an alien has potential. BTW, think you may mean the body was dessicated rather than emaciated, which I don’t think can be used as a verb. I can see why you’re proud because you’ve put a ton of work into this. NOW KEEP GOING!
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Grace Unto You And Peace,
How I Review:
1) I take notes while I read—what you get is immediate.
2) They are notes so you do not pay points for more words.
3) Don’t change anything which I urge to change, if my note does not sing true.
Begin:
P-1-”Pulling his trench coat up around his neck he exited his truck racing through the rain.” Confusion! phrase:”racing through the rain…” attaches to antecedent: “truck…” In other words he is racing through the rain but grammatically it sounds like the truck is racing through the rain.
P-1-”“Ben,” he heard as his partner Tom called to him from across the warehouse.
“Yeah, be right there,” Ben replied, now looking at the remains.”—too long sentences confuse the reader. Read this aloud and remember you action can be sometimes conveyed in shorter simple sentences. Clean like punches.
P-1- Check for fused sentences? Two into one?
P-2-”“Not sure, all women, remains resemble this one, no apparent connection to each other,” Tom replied finally putting the blackberry back into the holster on his hip.” Sentence length…almost too much?
P-2- ” “Yeah,” Ben replied as the forensic’s team began to wrap the body for removal. Careful not to loose any evidence in the process.” I do not understand these sentences? Who is saying “Careful not to loose any evidence in the process.”?
P-3- “composing himself…” is there one habit which the character does which the reader will be able to know what is being felt internally? In other words when this emotion is felt, does the character tug at the middle of his tie…if he is wearing a tie? Or does he slide his fingers down the lapel of his suit if he wears a suit? What character signature does he use to signify what emotion: unease, distress or whatever you feel is the characters emotion. After all you know the character best of all.
P-3- Sentences fused together. Difficult to read. Editor might be able to help you more than I can by siting each difficulty.
P-4- “His gaze traced” Thesaurus for synonym?
P-5- Sentence Fragments…if these are to signify the fragmented thoughts of the protagonist there are effective, but might keep the piece from being published?
p-7-”Looking again, she stood before him with a wide open smile, her eyes glowing, wearing the flower dress he remembered.” confusing. Do you mean> ”He looked again and there she stood. She had that wide, open smile and her eyes glowed and she wore the flower print dress. And it was all the way he remembered her.” I think that these sentences are what you had in mind?
GENERAL: The hook is in pp-10-11-12
Once you get into the action, you are o.k. The comma splices, or fused sentences or run on sentences- they can be culled out with editing. Your actual handling of the story is good. The mechanics of story telling are good, except for the exposition work at the beginning. I have only read 50% of the chapter because any more would cost more. Cheap.
Thank you for allowing me to read this detective/new age thriller…at least that is what I suspect it is?
Agape, kiitos, shalom, Xie Xie, salaam, ja namaste,
Don as “Tauno”
At PP-11-12 the story really begins.
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