Chasing Shadows (36 page)

I look down to my new tattoo and find it's
gone. What was it anyway? I don't remember and I'm sad, very sad. I
miss it. Oh, there are some feet. They're nice long, bony, bare
feet. They're clean and planted in the grass next to me. I follow
them up, hairy legs, tan shorts, blue t-shirt, Schuyler. He's
staring at me. His eyes are odd, great big pupils. He looks very
serious.

"I can't really help you." He says to me. His
voice is so low, like baritone honey. I smile. Now he breaks eye
contact and looks out over the water. I follow his gaze and see
that there's a body. Not several, not a boiling sea of bodies, just
one, little, floating corpse. It has dark hair. Its face down in
the water. It seems sort of picturesque against the backdrop of a
natural rock wall.

I feel weary just looking at it. I sigh. Damn
my arm hurts. I blink. I'm in a hospital bed. My right arm is in a
cast and stretched out in front of me, held up by braces that sit
painfully against my chest. Am I still dreaming? I groan. I am so
thirsty and I have to pee. My cooch hurts. I bet I'm
awake.

***

I look around without moving my head. I seem to
be alone, except for little, round-eyed, Luck sitting cross legged
on my thighs.

"Hi." I whisper to him. He grins and scratches
my leg. "What do I call you? Do you have a
real
name?" I say
more boldly. He places a finger on his lips and shakes his head. He
has the impression of hair. It moves, fuzz shifting in the light.
His skin is flesh tones now with a slightly blue cast at the
creases. His eyes, those big, circular, saucer eyes, have huge
black irises. But now he turns. The florescent lights glint off of
them and they're not black anymore. They're blue, deep, sparkly
blue like the sky at night. It's hard to see anything beyond them.
"Are you hungry?" I ask. "Thirsty? Cold? Can I get you clothes or a
burrito or something?" Luck grins at me.

"Who are you talking to?" Says a
man.

I turn my head a little too fast and it hurts
me. I wince. Ah, Schuyler. Why didn't I recognize his voice? "No
one." I say lightly.

He cocks an eyebrow and plops down in the chair
at my left. "You don't have to lie to me." He sounds
hurt.

I look at Luck but he seems fully occupied
picking at his finger nails. "It just gets weirder and weirder,
Schuyler."

Schuyler smiles.

I sigh. "I'll tell you sometime." He still
looks injured so I uselessly add. "Please don't be hurt,
sweetheart. I'd be lost without you. You know that. It's just too
fucking strange right now."

Schuyler shrugs. "Yeah okay. So how you
feeling?"

I laugh grimly, and the motion sends a stabbing
pain through my ribs. "Can't complain."

He reaches over and takes my hand. "I have to
apologize to you." He is staring at the floor. I just look at him,
dubious, until he makes eye contact. "I told my Dad."

I nod slightly. "I figured. Officer Burns said
he called the station."

Schuyler scoffs. "He called the chief of
police."

My eyebrows arch. "I remember he called me 'Our
Meegan'. What was
that
about?"

He sighs. "I have some stuff I should tell you
about him..." I wait, but Schuyler doesn't seem like he wants to go
on.

I squeeze his hand. "Its okay, man, relax. Why
don't you fill in some other gaps for me if you can?"

He nods. "Like what?"

"Like what was up with Evan Sturgis? He
admitted that he's Harley, and he's the one who proposed, the one
who killed Kelly, Luis, all of that, but there's got to be more to
it right?"

Schuyler sits back. "I have a few pieces from
my Dad. Don't mention Kelly by the way." He stares at me
gravely.

"No problem."
"Have you already, when they questioned you without a lawyer and
before surgery?" He scowls at the memory.

"I don't think so." I say weakly. "No... I'm
sure I didn't. It's not really like me to share information
anyway."

He smiles. "Don't I know it?"

"So, your pieces from your Dad?"

"It's such a one way street with
you."

"Yeah I'm a taker. Spill it, hot stuff." I
groan for effect.

"You have a morphine button."

"I do?"

He leans forward and places a little remote in
my hand. "Press it when you need it. It'll dose you once every
twenty minutes until it runs out."

I look at it, considering. "I can wait a while,
talk."

He smiles a bit. "Well, Sturgis was a divorcé.
Started seeing Mads when his wife left, or just before." He shrugs.
"It's fuzzy. I'm still not clear why he killed
Madeline."

I gesture with the pain button. "I
know."

"You're sharing?" He grins.

I smile and it makes my face hurt. "Yeah. Mads
saw Sturgis kill Kelly, strangled her while he fucked her. He said
she asked him to do it, but I didn't believe him. So, they were on
a boat... I guess he chucked Kelly's body overboard. Anyway, the
whole thing freaked him out. He asked Madeline to marry him after
that, to go straight. She laughed at him. He busted her. Said he
was trying to get her to stop, whatever. So, she was going to tell
Craig Chambers that Sturgis killed Kelly as revenge. Sturgis killed
Madeline to shut her up. Then he had to kill Luis Finch because he
thought Luis knew about all of it."

"Which he may have."

"Yeah."

"Then you."

I stare at my cast. "Then me."

"Well, that fits." Schuyler says. "Dad says
that the chief said, that a couple of other officers noticed
Sturgis having a mini-melt down when he found out your social
worker was calling the station trying to have them run DNA on
missing persons, or asking about the possibility. He must've
thought you were onto him."

I laugh and it hurts. Damn. "When all the time,
I was clueless."

Schuyler shakes his head. "No, you had the
clues. You just never shared them with anyone who could help piece
it together for you."

"I'm really freaking thirsty." I whine.
Schuyler smiles, gets up, and fetches me some water. "Thanks." I
drink greedily. God, that's good.

"So, anyway." He continues. "Sturgis' partner
is all broken up. He says he should've noticed, or rather that he
did notice signs, but didn't pay enough attention to them. He's
admitted to knowing that Sturgis went through your file after the
Luis Finch thing, and that Sturgis tailed you in his spare time. He
said that Sturgis said that he had a hunch about you, and was
trying to help Burns and Clark with their case. Of course this is
all
at least fifth hand by the time it gets to me." He
pauses for a second. I drink some more. "And Sturgis' partner is
the one who tipped him off that he was in a lot of photos they
found in the dark room which, of course, you already knew about.
That's the one thing they might get him for, leaking information on
an open investigation."

“So how did they know about the warehouse? How
did they actually
find
me?”

Schuyler nods. “Sturgis’ partner again. It was
involved in a case a while back, and the property’s ownership is in
litigation. As soon as they brought the partner in, he suggested
they search that place.”

I sigh. "Well, thanks for telling me. I feel a
bit better about it. Must've
really
freaked him out, when I
showed up in the bar."

"See?" Schuyler shakes his head. "What bar?
When?"

I laugh. "Fuck." That kills, when will I learn?
"A cop bar, and I just wandered in. I was headed to see Qasim. I
had time. I recognized a glass, so I went in for a
beer."

"A glass."

I roll my eyes. "This is why." I say
dramatically. "Not every single, little thing is worth mentioning.
If I told you
everything,
I'd just talk and talk and talk
all the time."

"So... This glass?"

I smile, Ow. "It was just like one I have at my
house. I thought it was a sign or something."

"Oh."

I nod and wince. "Oh is right."

"So..."

"Yeah?"

"The cousin story. I asked you before but you
never answered. I'm assuming Sturgis is the one who left the threat
at your apartment. Why did he think you were Kelly's cousin? Who
did you end up telling that story to?"

"Lexi and Sara."

"So Sturgis must've been in contact with
them."

I finish the water. "Man liked sex."

Schuyler's voice goes up. "He was sleeping with
them? Both of them?"

"I don't know, wouldn't surprise
me."

"I want to talk to them." He sounds so
direct.

"I have their number... Well actually the
number is on a box at Qasim's place." Schuyler digs in his pocket
and whips out a phone... Wait, that's
my
phone. I snap my
fingers at him but he's already dialing. "That's my phone!" I
hiss.

"I know it." Schuyler says. "Mr. Abraham got
your stuff back from the cops. It's all at my place. I was... hold
on..." He looks away as he talks to the voice mail. "Qasim. Hi this
is Schuyler Mills, Meegan's friend. Listen, she's in the hospital
right now, and she wanted me to call you. She wants the box with
Lexi and Sara's number on it. This is her phone." He eyes me. "I
know, she wants to talk to you but she's pretty doped up on
morphine so I promised I'd call. She's at St. Catherine’s, room
number 317, Uh, that's all. Thanks bye."

I grin. "What's wrong with me anyway? Doctor
tell you?"

Schuyler shrugs. "Told my Dad... Right humerus
bone shattered: took a rod and several pins to set, three broken
ribs, right side obviously, lacerations on your wrists and ankles.
You'll always look like you tried to commit suicide. Your nose is
broken. Also they said there's some displacement in your pelvis and
lots of severe bruising, but all your teeth are fine!" he adds
cheerfully.

"Could be worse."

"Yeah, you could be dead."

"At least we know I'm not Kelly Morgan." I say
gratefully.

He shakes his head. "No we don't. Unless
there's some vital information you're keeping from me."

I just stare at him. "Sturgis admitted to
killing Kelly Morgan." Duh.

"So. She could have survived and washed up on
the beach. She could still be you."

"Bullshit. Kelly washed up in Roger’s Park. I
came ashore closer to downtown, on the beach that runs by Lake
Shore Drive..." Schuyler glares. "See?" I say. "Besides the
timeframe's all wrong. It was warm when Kelly died."

"How do you know?"

I stare at my feet. "I had a dream."...
Something's wrong here. I wiggle my toes... Wait! Where's my little
person? Where's Luck? My eyes dart around the room, he's no where.
I feel abandoned.

"What is it?" Schuyler whispers. "What do you
see?"

I feel myself pouting. "Nothing." My voice
cracks. "I've been ditched." I look at Schuyler. Man, I must really
try his patience.

"Nothing." He sounds incredulous.

I sniffle. "The one I was talking to before,
he's gone."

"He? The one you offered a burrito?"

I laugh. "Ow! Goddamit... Yeah, that one.
Fuck."

"You should hit the button. You're turning
gray."

I groan. "Okay." I press the little red thing
and wait while some medicine is delivered directly to my vein. I
moan a bit. "Sorry."

Schuyler crosses his legs. "It's okay. Can we
watch TV?"

"Sure, might take my mind off
things."

He chuckles. "SVU then?"

I groan again. "Please no. Something
pleasant."

"Should've brought some movies."

"Maybe next time."

Schuyler clicks the TV on. "Next time you wind
up in the hospital?"

"Hell no. Next time you visit."

He shrugs. "I'm not going anywhere..." He
gestures to a duffel bag that I guess I should've noticed before.
"Brought some clothes. I'll be here until you leave."

"Really?" I squeak.

He smiles and looks at the TV. "Don't want to
miss anything."

Chapter
Seventeen

Morphine slams my system right into
hibernation. It's great. I'm not even dreaming, or maybe I am. I
open my eyes occasionally. It's dark in here now. The light of the
TV shines on Schuyler's face. He does
not
look comfortable
in that little chair. Every so often a nurse comes in and jacks
with my lines, or takes my blood pressure. I try to wait for them
to go to the bathroom. I can get there by myself, but it's not
pretty. I'm just ruminating on the condition of my bladder, when a
tall man comes floating into my field of vision. He's blocking the
TV, not that I care.

"Meegan Jones." He says.

I blink up at him... wait for it... its coming,
There! I recognize him. "Mr. Mills." I croak.