“You’re not going to be laughing after you hear what I have to say.” Her tone is the usual patronizing and cold clip. “The internal investigation on you has suddenly been dropped.” Most people would be relieved by that turn of events, but both Celia and I know that means something altogether more disturbing. The way to deal with me has become termination. I’m going to have a sudden tragic accident.
“Okay… okay.” I take a deep breath. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Matthew… I… I’ll let you know if I get any more of an idea… Goddamnit. Watch your six. I’m really sorry.” My chest tightens at the worry in her voice. Celia prides herself on being cool, calm, and collected at every turn. “Get the hell out of Illinois as quickly as you can.”
I don’t commit to cutting and running. That’s not who I am. She knows that, too. “What good are your lofty ideals if you’re dead?” Is her parting shot. I scrap looking at the rest of my emails and clip my badge to my belt. It’s time to meet with Keir. Jogging through the rain that’s picking up, I finger the gun holstered at my side. Knowing full well that I won’t have a warning when the time comes.
I manage not to get drenched; the skies seem to open up more after I’m in the lobby of the building. Kim, one of the Center nurses, looks up from preparing her coffee and chuckles. “You just missed a shower.” She pulls a cardigan over her scrub top. “We’re getting all sorts of guests today.” She tosses her stir stick in the garbage and shakes her head. “If you’re in on the meeting, it started about fifteen minutes ago.”
“What meeting?” I ask, as Dave, one of the executive producers of the documentary for HBO spots me from down the hall and tries to get my attention.
“Oh… you’re not meeting with Dr. Richardson, Mrs. Lassiter, and Dr. Wallen?” Her lips form an ‘o’ and she raises her eyebrows. “Never mind. Who are you here for?”
“Mr. Marcus.” I lower my brows and stalk closer to her desk to question her further about the meeting, when Dave calls out to me.
“Agent Scholl?” Dave waves his hand and then answers his ringing cellphone. “Uhh… hold on.” He directs my way. I don’t think so. I’m fed up with the whole circus. Dave’s a decent guy, but I’ve been leery of them filming here since the beginning.
I pivot and turn towards Keir who’s walked into the lobby. “Where would you like to talk?” Following him to the resident lounge, he’s quiet and melancholy. “I’m going to record our talk, if that’s alright with you.” I place my phone on the table after sitting across from him.
He nods and clears his throat. “Yeah.” He changes position in the chair a few times, his nerves getting the best of him. “Where should I start?”
“Do you have any memories from the day of the attack?” I keep my voice level and unleading.
“Not exactly? I’ve been having vivid nightmares. I didn’t know who the person in them was…” He scratches his arm and looks out the window. “I don’t really remember her, but her face is sort of familiar.”
“How do you know that this person exists and isn’t something your imagination made up?” I’m not trying to blow holes in his story, but it’s a leap to think some unnamed person he dreamt of is responsible.
He nods at me. “I wouldn’t just make that connection. I was in therapy and talking about my dreams and that’s when I found out that a video exists. I was told that one of the graduate students matched the description and she’s on the video attacking me.”
“Where’s this video?” There are only three female graduate students: Jolie, Liz, and Eden. I can’t see any of them attacking a strong male, but stranger things have happened.
He takes a couple of pictures from his pocket that look like blown up video stills in grainy black and white. I squint to see the first. My heart stops. The first picture is Eden swinging around with what looks like a laptop in her hands at the back of Keir’s head. The angle is awkward, and he looks like he’s talking. Her face is smeared in the photo, but the stature, hair, build… all the same. What the fuck am I looking at?
I grab the second photograph, that gives a clearer picture of her face and it’s almost serene. Not matching the action in the picture. Not to mention the trajectory of the laptop as a weapon won’t land on the back of Keir’s head where his wound is. These are doctored. Fuck me. What’s going on here?
“Who gave you these?” I flip them over, so I don’t have to look at them. Anger simmering in my veins. Who’s trying to frame Eden for hurting him? Doesn’t he realize both Caleb and Eden were kidnapped and shot? Probably not.
He looks anxious and unsure as he looks back out the window. “They didn’t want to be named, because they said it would be unsafe.” His voice is devoid of emotion.
“Keir.” I try to keep my voice steady and calm. “These pictures have been photoshopped. Do you know what that is?”
He gives me a confused look. “I think so. Made up?”
“That’s why I need to know who gave them to you.” I roll the sleeves of my dress shirt up and try to school my features. I don’t want him to shut down because I look as fucking angry as I feel.
He looks down at his lap. Then his head shakes. “I… I told them I wouldn’t tell anyone.” I want to shake him. I can recognize someone in crisis, and he fits the bill. It’s like he’s mentally checked out.
“Do you know who the female in the pictures is? Do you remember her?” He swallows a few times, and his eyes look filled with unshed tears.
“I have nightmares about her. Strangling her.” He makes a slight choking sound, and tears fall.
That answers a question. He’s the one responsible for the bruises Eden had on her neck a few weeks ago. Is his mind twisting the whole thing?
“Keir, which therapist were you talking to, can you tell me that?” In order to get to the bottom of this, I have to get an idea of who he’s talking to. Before he can answer me, the building intercom crackles to life.
“Code Red. The building is in lockdown, please stay where you’re at until you’ve been given the all clear. Code Red. The building is in lockdown, please stay where you’re at until You’ve been given the all clear.” Out of breath, Kim, runs into the room.
“Agent Scholl, can you come with me?” I don’t want to leave Keir by himself, but without much of a choice I stuff the pictures in my pocket and follow her.
