Anamnesis: A Novel (20 page)

“Nobody has a clue what we know—”

“Assuming Fearnley didn’t make some calls,”
she interrupted.

“Right, assuming he hasn’t—and since
nobody knows what we’re doing, they have no reason to be suspicious. However they’ve
done it before, they’ll do it again.” Still, Olivia wasn’t convinced. I broke
down the plan step by step, hoping it would reassure her. “Imagine we’re at the
reception. If there are lots of people there, maybe I can slip inside.
Otherwise I’ll wait outside somewhere with a good vantage point. You start
walking off with a guy. Maybe you’re suspicious of him, maybe you aren’t. You
go with him anyway. But I’m right behind you the entire time. Once things get
dicey, he tries to get you in a car, I’ll step in and save you.”

She snickered. “My Knight in shining
armor.”

“Ha-ha. I’ll give you that one,” I
laughed. “What do you think?”

“What will you do? No offense, but if
you’re popping up out of nowhere asking me to come with you, whoever I’m with
will be very skeptical.”

“We play your original cover story. I bump
into you, tell you I’ve been trying to get a hold of you because of some big
issue with the charity outreach program. I’ll ask if I can talk to you
privately. We step aside, then you go back and say you’re terribly sorry but
something has come up. Perfect.”

“Not perfect, but it’s passable,” Olivia
admitted. “It will get me out of dodge.”

I sipped at my vodka, pleased with myself.
It was an aggressive plan. If it worked, we’d have a face and name of someone
who was behind Whiteout. That would put me even closer to knowing what happened
to me. Maybe I could put an end to Whiteout, then get out of Seattle forever.
Fuck, I might even try to start a new life somewhere if I had it in me.

Putting an end to Whiteout. I wasn’t sure
what that would look like. I’d killed in self-defense. Andrew was an entirely
different situation. I couldn’t see myself carrying out premeditated,
coldblooded murder. I could, however, see myself hiring someone else to do it.
The people using Whiteout now, and the ones who tortured me before, deserved to
die. When I thought of Skid’s death—of Kaylee’s brutal murder—that conviction
was even stronger. The drug just hit the streets and it didn’t seem like there
were many points of contact to get it. If whoever was behind it was uprooted
like a weed,
that
would put an end to it. 

Olivia didn’t want to tarnish her
reputation by going to the police with what happened to her, but she still
wanted justice. Everyone won with my plan. The people behind Whiteout had to
go.

I finished off my vodka and set it on a
coaster on the cluttered coffee table. It was time to test the waters again,
see if Olivia’s tune had changed. Maybe I could get her on board with my plan.

“We’re getting close, Olivia. Last time we
talked, you said you just wanted to know who the men were so you could avoid
them, not confront them.” I tried to be delicate with it. “Is that still the
case?”

She tilted her face towards me. For a
moment it seemed those piercing blue eyes saw right through me. Then she
blinked and turned away, eyes focused on the fireplace. “I don’t think so.
After we saw Kaylee like that, the idea of doing absolutely nothing is
horrific. Where is the justice in that? Once we find out who is involved,
we—sorry, I—can take it to the police. Maybe not SPD, but someone higher up.
The FBI or something, I don’t know. Someone needs to do something about it.
They can’t get away with this.”

I wanted to tell her what I was going to
do, but couldn’t. Olivia still wanted structured, approved justice. I had a
feeling she wasn’t down for vigilantism. She might like the results once it was
over. If she knew now, though, she would try to stop me. She’d say it wasn’t
right. Olivia proved herself more complicated than I thought, but I still
trusted my gut. She wouldn’t like what I wanted to do.

So I wouldn’t tell her. We’d go through
with our plan, I’d find names, and end them.

“Ethan?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Thank you for helping me.” She reached
across the space between us and set her hand on my shoulder, then gave it one
quick squeeze before returning it to her side. “Thank you for everything.”

My body is wrapped in wires, from my toes
to the top of my head. They cut into my flesh and make it bleed. The pressure
on one of my eyes is so intense, I know it will pop soon. The wire will cut
into it and it will ooze out. I deserve this. I see Andrew’s face and he’s
crying. Crying because I murdered him, because life was unfair and life did its
work through me.

The wires release and I’m on the ground in
a black, infinite space. Cuts on my body sing with a pain so pure my brain can
barely comprehend it.

Laurel is beside me. I know her name now.
Her hand is stroking my body, smearing blood across my skin. She is telling me
about her father, her family, her school. But it’s getting harder and harder to
remember them. The drugs make her memories stretch and tear. Soon she won’t
remember any of them. She smiles and says, maybe then I can restart my life. We
can look at it as our lives being taken away, or we can see it as a real second
chance.

I tell her about Sarah. I remember her, her
beautiful hair and laugh like chimes. The only light in my dismal life. I used
to have a picture of her. A man gave it back to me when I went to the
apartment. Then I killed Andrew.

I knew they’d come and take me back. I
knew in time, there would be so many holes in my memory eventually it would be
nothing. I taped it under the shelf and left her behind. They’d take it away
from me when they found me again.

Time bends. I’m lying in the back of a
van. The carpet is sticky. I can’t move my legs. I hear someone up front say they’re
sorry. So sorry.

I smell the ocean. I feel their hands as
they haul me out of the van. I’m finally going to die. It’s going to be over.

Everything is cold. I can’t breathe. I’m
sucking down salt water and it’s filling my lungs. I kick my feet but they’re
stuck. Tied to something. I kick and kick. I’m free. I’m going up. I suck in
fresh air. I’m floating in the ocean.

I’m alone.

W
hen I woke up, my
body was paralyzed. Only my eyes worked and I stared at the unfamiliar
landscape around me. Too much golden light streamed into Olivia’s apartment. Self-help
books stacked on the coffee table blocked my view of the fireplace. The faint
smell of soy sauce and egg noodles lingered.

The dream had been more coherent than any
other. There was still a surreal quality to it, things that obviously couldn’t
have happened, but the rest? It resonated as a memory, not fabrication. I was
sure this was what my buddy Plato was talking about when it came to anamnesis.
I had talked to Laurel. I had left that picture behind. Someone tried to dump
my body. While the memories were useless, they were something. With no drug to
grab and dull my pain, I lay instead. Let the miserable feeling of being sober
wash over me.

I hated mornings. Or rather, waking up. My
brain had so much time to keep working, churning, while I was asleep. It always
came up with worst case scenarios, and other depressing thoughts, that it was
excited to present to me the second I came to. The confidence I had about my
plan last night, the conviction I had to kill whoever was behind Whiteout,
looked like a lot of work now. It seemed like it would be too hard to do, had
too many risks. I was also aware of my tiny roll of cash, barely a grand, that
would need to get me through…well, I didn’t know. Probably a long time, and
with an alcohol and cigarette habit that wasn’t much.

I shook the foggy memory of the dream away
and sat up. Last night, when she offered me the couch, I accepted. I had plenty
of nights sleeping on cold, hard surfaces headed my way. In the meantime, I’d
take where I could get. Plus, Donovan had called me and left a voicemail about
his uncle. He couldn’t keep his voice straight as he asked where I was, how I
was doing, and told me to come by his place soon. He stopped by mine and I
wasn’t there. Where was I?

Staying at Olivia’s place was safe. I
needed that. Her couch, though a bit too short for me, was a better sleep than
my mattress back at the apartment anyway, and here there was no threat of being
murdered in my sleep. She’d given me multiple blankets, though I didn’t use any
due to the desert-like temperatures she kept the place at, and a clean soft
pillow.

The godly scent of coffee hit my nose. I
forced myself off the couch to investigate. A space had been cleared on the
kitchen counter and a coffee maker I hadn’t noticed before was plugged in. It
blubbered away happily as it dripped coffee into a pot. I was surprised I slept
through the sound of Olivia setting it up.

“This thing, like that vodka you guzzled,
was an apartment warming gift. Never used it but I figured we might need an
extra boost this morning. Grabbed some coffee beans from the store down the
street.”

Olivia wore a black knee-length dress that
had sleeves down to her wrists. It scooped around her neck, showing her pale
skin. Her hair was turned up in a towel and her face was, incredibly, without
any makeup. Her eyelashes and brows were so pale they almost faded into her
skin. I had to give her kudos for the expertly applied makeup she wore every
day.

The funeral was soon. Caffeine wasn’t the
only thing I’d need to get through today.

“You’ve been up for a while?”

“Of course. It’s almost eleven.” She went
into the kitchen and pulled down two mugs from the cupboard. “I’ve been to the
gym downstairs, bought the coffee beans, showered, and I’m getting ready to go
now. I put some clean towels in the bathroom if you need to take a shower.”

I became aware of how itchy my unwashed
clothes and body were. “Yeah, that sounds good. What time is the funeral?”

She poured two mugs to the brim with
coffee and handed me one. No tea drinking today.

“Two. There’s a service at a church
downtown, then everyone will go to the cemetery up in Queen Anne. After that is
a reception at the parent’s house about ten minutes away from the cemetery.”
She blew on her coffee and took a sip. “Plenty of opportunities for someone to
kidnap me.”

I wasn’t sure if she was trying to be
funny or not, so I drank deeply from the mug instead. The coffee was too hot to
gulp, but felt good and woke me up. It tasted like money. Knowing Olivia, the
beans were expensive. I savored it.

“All right. If this works, we’ll be in
good shape. If it doesn’t, we’ll continue on the investigation track. Sound
good?”

“Works for me. I feel like I should be
wearing a wire or something.” Now she laughed and I returned a smile. She set
her mug down, barely touched, and headed off to get ready.

I finished mine and the rest of the pot
before taking the offered shower. The bathroom was all blue tile and porcelain
appliances. It felt awkward being in there amongst the dozens of hair and body
products, so I opted for a fast rinse and put on some of the few clean clothes
I had in my duffel. Even after I was done it took Olivia another hour before
she declared she was ready.

Her hair had been put up into some kind of
bun and she’d pinned a piece of lace into it that settled over her eyes. It
looked retro. I wondered if she’d gotten it for the occasion or if she’d been
to a lot of funerals. She consolidated whatever she needed from her huge bag to
a small black purse to match her outfit.

“I’ll have to drop you off away from the
church, then I’ll park. We don’t want to be seen together. Wait outside the
church, or come in if that’s possible. I guess we don’t have any choice but to
drive together to the cemetery.” Olivia grabbed her keys from the kitchen as
she led me out of the apartment. “I’m trusting you, Ethan. Don’t let anything
happen to me.”

“Don’t worry. We don’t know for sure if
someone will try to take you. The reception will be a better time than the
funeral itself,” I assured her.

Soon we were in the car and driving
downtown. Olivia dropped me off two blocks from the church. I knew it well;
they served food to people in need every other week. It had been a great
hunting ground for people looking to score. I had a skull cap, pulled low to my
eyebrows, but wished I had sunglasses, too. Any one of the Melnikov family
could spot me. Now that I knew they were looking for me, it made being on the
streets dangerous.

The street across from the church had
cafes and shops. I went into one of the cafes, reasoning that since it had the
best view of the church it justified grabbing a coffee and donut. I parted
grudgingly with ten bucks for the goods and settled into the front of the shop
by one of the windows, next to two teenage girls yapping about their upcoming Christmas
break.

Kaylee’s funeral drew a huge crowd. Masses
of people entered the church over the half hour before the funeral started.
Olivia was one of them. She’d buddied up with another woman that looked her
age. Everyone was dressed in black or dark gray, save for the few attention
grabbers who opted for something bolder.

I expected to see someone and know right
away,
yeah, that’s a killer
. But none of the people who entered the church
stuck out. In fact, they were all the same to me. Similar haircuts, similar
suits. They carried themselves the same way. Any one of them could’ve killed
Kaylee or was drugging Olivia.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from
Olivia.

So far so good in here. Funeral starts in
five.

For the next hour she’d be safe and I had
time to waste. I grabbed a book from a take-one-leave-one bookshelf the cafe
had and read. It was poetry, something I didn’t care for, and I found myself
reading the same lines over and over. I was worried about Olivia. About what
could happen.

One of the girls next to me tried to start
a conversation with me about the book—they’d read it in one of their
classes—and I indulged them. As the hour came to a close and I saw people
coming out of the church, I bid the girls farewell and left the cafe.

My body tensed as I walked out and spotted
Olivia with a man her age exiting the church. She had her hand on his arm as
they walked. There was a smile on her face that I recognized as genuine. He
hugged her, his hand coming up to the exposed skin of her upper back. He
lingered, but eventually pulled away. My gut tensed. Something wasn’t right.

The two started down the street together.
I took the risk and jaywalked across the street, hoping no eager cops stopped
me, and trailed behind them. I let myself get closer until I was only five feet
away. That’s when I spotted it.

It was no bigger than a dime and was stuck
on her upper right shoulder, partially obscured by her dress. The color
would’ve matched her skin had she not been so incredibly pale. I was sure it
hadn’t been there before. The suited man had to have placed it on her when he
hugged her.

It was time to put my plan into action,
but first I wanted to see where he would take her. We neared the parking garage
where I knew Olivia left her car and they kept going, turning left at the
corner. More storefronts with apartment buildings above them. Further down the
street the buildings grew taller and turned into high rises near Fifth Avenue.
We were blocks away from Westlake where I first encountered Kaylee.

They stopped outside an old building with
a wood façade and giant windows. There were lots of old retail spaces like this
around town. Where once there had been a single business per building, now the
buildings were often converted into multiple office spaces or boutiques. This
particular one was split in half. The right side was Raven & Holloway Law
Group.
The left was under renovation.

The guy Olivia was with was patting down
his pockets. Olivia was fine. She didn’t act nervous and kept close by him as
they chatted. For someone who was worried about getting drugged, she was being
awfully friendly. I worked up some saliva to coat my dry mouth and swallowed.

“Miss Holloway?”

Startled, she turned around and faced me.
Her eyes widened and smile faltered. “Oh, hi. How are you?”

“I’m okay. I’ve been trying to get in
touch with you about the outreach program. We have a small funding crisis and I
needed your help.”

Her friend eyed my beat up my jeans and
jacket. I hoped it helped my case instead of raising more suspicion.

“I’ve been at a funeral, I’m sorry.”
Olivia’s brow furrowed. She glanced at her companion. “Hugh, I’m sorry. This is
Oliver Smith. I’m working with him on an outreach program for recovering addicts.
Do you mind waiting for a moment while I speak with him?”

“Olivia and Oliver? What a coincidence.”
He laughed, pleased with his observation, then he waved us away. “Of course.
I’ll wait here, no rush.”

Olivia led me out of earshot and leaned
forward. “What are you doing?”

Not what I had expected. “I’m saving you.
That guy is drugging you.”

“Jesus, Ethan. I’ve known him since I was
a kid. There hasn’t been a single opportunity for him to drug me.”

“He’s watching us, so don’t touch it. I
saw him stick a patch to your shoulder. That’s how they’re getting it to you.
Through the skin. That way you can’t stop them. They probably take it off when
they put you back in your apartment.” I watched the mix of confusion and denial
spread on her face. “Olivia, where is he taking you? The parking garage was a
block back.”