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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Lyrics by The Who
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I'm a million ages past you- a million years behind you too… A thousand miles up in the air- a trillion times I've seen you there…
He was a vain man, far too proud to admit his humanity. But if, for just a moment, he were honest with himself, he would confess that his run-in with Parker had shaken him.
He was adapted to being loathed and despised. He was accustomed to being wanted dead. But when it was his own sibling, his only confirmed blood relative, who so abhorred him and wished him deceased, it struck an odd note with him.
For a brief instant, his thoughts drifted back to his youth- a place where he rarely let them go. Broken pictures of disturbing events that had help to make him who he was flashed rapidly through his head to the tune of a cacophonous soundtrack. He could never pin the specifics down, but he knew that each experience involved the man who for eighteen years he had called “Mr. Lyle”- never “Dad”. His “father” had hated him; his “mother” had feared him and they never let him forget it. What could a child possibly do to incur such violent reactions? He would sometimes wonder about this for this was his “family’s” response to him long before the Jimmy incident. Was it that he really was just the “bad seed”? Had he always been a thing to despise? The answers escaped him because his memories began at age fifteen- before that there was nothing.
The image of his “perfect” sister floated through his twisted psyche- Daddy’s favorite. She never bothered to conceal her odium for him, so why he bothered to hide his for her he wasn’t quite sure. A part of him ached with regret- he so wished that he had pulled that trigger earlier. But the wrath it would have brought upon him was not something he was at this time prepared to deal with. She had been very lucky today indeed…
Parker’s blue eyes turned gray and he watched in curious wonder as her hair grew longer and turned to sunset red….
Lyle awoke with a violent start.
Your hair is golden, mine is gray… You walk on grass, it turns to hay… Your blood is blue and mine is red…
“Stupid idiot,” he cursed himself.
He was still in the parking garage crouched down behind large plastic barrels filled with sand that blocked off a section of the garage. He glanced around, disoriented from the blackout.
Stillness encompassed him. He was alone.
He stood up slowly, hampered by the pain of having his knees pinned against his chest for… how long had he been unconscious? A glance at his Rolex told him it had been well over thirty minutes. He bit back a growl of discouragement.
And that’s when he saw her… standing in the shadows with that forlorn face.
I can't reach you- I've strained my eyes… I've split my sides… I can't reach, see, feel or hear from you…
“Mia?”
He started jogging to where she was. He was nearly beside her when she began to withdraw.
“No, wait!” He was confused- why was she running from him?
She looked back over her shoulder at him, beckoning to him with those eyes.
His pace quickened as desperation propelled him forward. Why was she running?
To get away from you…
He stopped suddenly and whirled around searching for source of the voice. There was nothing…
He turned back and saw Mia standing there in front him. She was hugging the corner of a wall still staring at him.
Gingerly, he stepped toward her with as friendly of a look on his face as he could manage. Her mouth opened slightly in a silent “oh”. He reached out a hand to her, motioning her to come to him. She watched him with fear-filled eyes. Once again, just as he was in touching distance of her, she ran from him.
She knows who you are… the voice was over his shoulder now. And she hates you… Just like the others…
He wasn’t sure if he was running to Mia or away from the voice. All of the sudden, he was standing in the middle of a street…
The distances grow greater now… You're still alive and I'm nearly dead… I can't reach you… With my arms outstretched I crane my neck…
York… he was on York Avenue…
A car whizzed by and Lyle jumped out of the street just in the nick of time. From his vantage point of safety, he saw a terrifying sight…
Mia was standing in the busy intersection with a car speeding at her.
“NOOOOO!!!!” he screamed as the car plowed through her not even attempting to stop.
He ran to the spot where she was hit only to find… nothing. There was no bloody mess, no body in the road. Because she had never been there in the first place- he had been chasing an apparition.
Stunned and greatly disturbed, Lyle shut his eyes for a long while, trying to regain his bearing and his senses. When he reopened them, he was standing in front of a four family flat. One of the outside addresses screeched at him: 214.
He fumbled in his pocket and fished out a note card with the address of Mia’s grandmother on it. Sure enough Gianina Micelli lived at 214 York Avenue.
Something gold had fallen to the ground when he removed the note. He stooped over and retrieved the gold piece. It was the ring… the ring he had “borrowed” from that troll of a man from the doctor’s office. It gleamed in the light of the street lamps.
Leisurely, he removed the black glove from his left hand and adjusted the white bandages before slipping the ring onto his fourth finger. He held his hand out and scrutinized the fit. It was a bit large, but it would do.
With his old self firmly returned to its proper place, Lyle straightened his tie and jaunted up the stairs to “meet the family”.
Once, I caught a glimpse of your unguarded untouched heart…
“What?” An angry young man answered his knock.
Lyle’s expression was one of hope mixed with anxiety.
“I’m,” he cleared his throat and began again. “I’m looking for Amelia.”
The youth’s expression darkened considerably. “You and the rest of the stinkin’ world. Go away!” He began to shut the door, but he was hindered.
“You don’t understand,” Lyle entreated. “She-“
“No, you, don’t understand!” Mario flung the door open wide. “I don’t give a care who you are or why you want my sister. Leave my family alone!”
“She’s my wife.”
The words that were about to fly from the younger man died before they were voiced.
“What??”
And just like that he was in.
“Mia’s my wife,” he repeated, extending his right hand. “I’m Robert Bowman. You must be Mario.”
Mario glanced into the house behind him. “Look,” he whispered, motioning the man in. “Make this quick, all right. I don’t want to upset Nonna- she comes back you get out. Capisca?”
“Yes.”
Mario led him into the dining room and had “Robert” sit across the table from him. He was sick, absolutely sickened by the unrelenting freak show that continued to parade through their home since Mia’s disappearance. But this was too much for him to cope with…. His little sister got married and never told him? Mario was supremely suspicious of this claim; running off and marrying some guy didn’t sound like Mia; Maria, now she would pull a stunt like that. But Mia? Mario could not accept it.
Robert gave him a knowing look. “I take it that she hasn’t told you…”
“No.” Mario held his gaze as though a menacing glare might scare the man into changing his story. “How long?”
“Seven weeks,” Robert replied hesitantly, looking away from the persistent gaze. “It was a brief courtship, very brief. But, ah, we knew it was the real deal and saw no reason to wait.”
“So if you’re married to my sister why don’t you know where she is?” His tone was harsh and accusing.
He sighed heavily and his eyes got a heartbroken, distant look in them. “She, uh, she’s been having some problems lately… well, actually she was having them before we, you know, got married. But she’d been seeing a psychoanalyst, um, Dr. Puccini, and things were getting better… at least I thought they were. Anyway, she took off a few days ago. I got home from work and she… was just gone. I, I knew she had family in the City and I thought, I was hoping she maybe came here.”
It was Mario’s turned to sigh. He pushed his chair away from the table and leaned back. He didn’t know what to think- the guy’s story seemed plausible and he seemed genuinely upset about his wife’s departure.
His wife? There’s just no way…
His eyes kept drifting to the gold band on Robert’s left hand…
“What happened to you?”
Robert glanced at the bandaged hand. “Cutting carrots for a salad,” he said sheepishly. “Knife slipped.”
Mario nodded absently. “She hasn’t been here,” he said finally, staring at the floor. “Haven’t heard anything in weeks.”
There was rustling from the kitchen. Mario looked up worriedly. “Nonna’s back. I don’t mean to be rude or nothing, but it’d really upset her to find out now that Mia’s married and didn’t tell us… she’s always had big dreams for Mia’s wedding and all.”
Robert stood up with Mario. As the young man came around to table to usher him out, Robert took him by the arm.
“Look,” he said quietly, “I’m really sorry about dumping this on you. I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”
Mario nodded, his eyes swam in tears. “Yeah,” he choked out. “So do I. You think she’s okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I think she will be. Hey, as soon as I find her, I’ll bring her home.”
The men shook hands and Mario closed the door behind his “brother-on-law” believing his sister would be safe.
As Robert walked down the front stairs he changed back into Mr. Lyle who smirked, quite pleased with himself, as he took the band off his finger and discarded it in the bushes as soon as he was out of sight.
Our fingertips touched and then my mind tore us apart…
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She found herself wandering around a deserted part of town. She stopped under a streetlight and pulled out the wallet. Carefully, she counted the bills inside and was relieved to find that there was enough to get something to eat. As she slid the wallet back into her pocket, she noticed that a card had escaped from it and fluttered to the ground. She snatched it up and looked it over. It was a business card for a Dr. Viktor Puccini and over the standard information was scrawled Friday 2:30pm and that was all.
Mia glance up and down the street before crossing to the other side where a broken neon sign of a Chinese diner flickered unsteadily.
The tiny diner was crowded with rickety tables, but devoid of customers. The stench of fish lingered in the air, a peculiar odor for a Chinese restaurant. In fact, there was nothing in the décor that indicated ethnicity; rather it looked like the diner had been hastily installed in an abandoned building. Something distinctly foreboding laced the atmosphere.
A noise from the kitchen grabbed her attention. Shadows moved around the galley doorway. Just as she was about to flee, an impossibly tiny Chinese woman stepped into the light. She must have been a beauty once before time got the best of her. She spoke in a torrent of Mandarin and did not look happy. She pointed to a table and handed Mia a menu. Since she could not read a word of Chinese, Mia pointed to a random item and hoped for the best. The woman tapped a small speaker box on the table.
“Listen.”
Mia nodded as the woman put a piece of paper with a number in front of her. In an instant, she was alone.
She removed some of the newspaper clipping from her pocket again and zeroed in on one that covered the most recent finding of Detective Wayne.
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Smoke filled the bedroom suite. An ashtray full of cigarette butts set on the nightstand next to the bed.
Parker blew smoke rings at the dark TV opposite her as she listened to Jarod’s rundown of the latest murders he had investigated. One was yet another former Centre associate discovered in room number 77 of a rundown motel and the other was the manager of the same motel- no Centre connection. Jarod also said he had retrieved a broken glass syringe from the crime scene and was having it analyzed.
“So now what?” she asked, flickering the ashes from the end of her cigarette haphazardly over the ashtray.
“I don’t know,” Jarod admitted sullenly. “I’m going over every DSA again to make sure there isn’t something hidden there.”
“Any luck?”
“No. Have you found out anything about Amelia’s parents?”
“Her father, Salvatore Micelli, was convicted of a triple homicide ten years, been rotting on death row ever since. Her mother’s apparently an agoraphobic schizophrenic- she’s been voluntarily holed up at Bellevue since her husband’s arrest. Looks like she couldn’t handle the truth about her Sal.”
Jarod was silent. Parker could hear him tapping away on a keyboard. She mulled over what little information her father provided her about the Seventh Member. She wished she could have gotten her hands on that file, but there was no telling where Lyle had it stashed.
Lyle….
Her fingers and her cheeks burned… for different reasons. Her finger itched to pull the trigger that would finally and permanently send her demented sibling six feet under. Her cheeks fired with the humiliating turn of events that sent her into a chain-smoking rampage.
Jarod was saying something to her, but her thoughts were elsewhere as something suddenly struck her.
“We should check to see if Amelia is adopted,” she said abruptly.
“I don’t follow,” he said a bit confused.
“Think about it,” she challenged, leaning forward. “What do we know about my baby brother’s adoptive parents? Don’t you think it’s a little bit strange that Amelia’s father is in prison for murder and so is Lyle’s. And Amelia’s mother is a mental case and-“
“So is Lyle’s,” Jarod finished. “That is quite a coincidence.”
“When the Centre is involved nothing is coincidence.”
“True,” he murmured. After a long pause he added, “Would you go out with me tonight?”
Parker spat her cigarette onto the bedspread and nearly dropped the phone as she leapt to get the butt off the bed. There was a lovely heart-shaped singe left behind. She turned her back on the bed and walked over to the window.
Jarod was chuckling on the other end of the line as he imagined her response.
“So how bout it, Miss Parker?”
“You’re not funny, Wonder Boy,” she hissed, not even a little amused.
“Oh, come on now,” he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Don’t tell me you’ve got another date.”
“Keep it up and this partnership is over.”
“Lighten up, Miss Parker,” Jarod smiled, “I just thought you might want to come sleuthing with me. You never know when we might run across your ‘baby’ brother and his playmate.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “But I have one condition, Jarod.”
“What’s that?”
“Leave Lyle to me.”
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The newspaper articles were spread out before her as was every relevant item from her wallet- all the clues to her existence. However, there were several pieces of the puzzle still missing.
There were two cards lying on the table between her hands. One was the card from Sun Lei’s with the name Angel scrawled on it- the handwriting was not the same feminine handwriting as on the doctor’s card; it was more masculine. The second card was a blank white card with a phone number on it.
As time passed her eyelids grew heavy- it had been so long since she had slept. She yawned and gathered the paper clippings into a pile.
Someone entered the diner.
Three men stepped in, all wearing black suits, but only two were wearing black overcoats. The light gleamed eerily off of their dark glasses.
Quickly, they surrounded her table. Her limbs felt like lead- she couldn’t move.
The man sitting across from her smiled evilly. His blue eyes sparked in malevolence and a name broke through her clouded consciousness… Cox…
“Don’t fall asleep,” he taunted, “you might never wake up…”
The Black Coats smiled large, pasty smiles.
“Seventy-seven,” they said in unison. “Seventy-seven.”
Their voices took on a feminine quality as they continued to chant. Mr. Cox stood up and knocked his chair over in the process. The crash startled her and she jumped up, terrified and disoriented.
She was completely alone.
“Seventy-seven!!!” the box on the table screamed at her indignantly.
The men had been a dream.
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Puccini was settled in a temporary office on the thirty-sixth floor until the police had finished with their investigation. Several high watt bulbs lighted the room.
A long shadow loomed over his desk.
“I don’t understand why this such an issue.” He said to the source of the shadow. “This isn’t the first time this has happened and it certainly won’t be the last. There is always a loose end to be dealt with.”
Mr. White stepped out of the shadows and squinted at the doctor.
“But this is an unusual situation don’t you think?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Never before have we had two loose ends running around that knew about each other.”
“Yes,” the doctor conceded, “but it was the Triumvirate who wanted Lyle to bring Amelia in. They were aware of the situation.”
“He has not followed his orders.”
“And this surprises you?” Puccini swiveled his chair lazily from side to side. “Lyle has always followed his own agenda, even when he was a boy. You should be used to dealing with him by now.”
“You have point,” White replied disgruntled. “But this time we’ve had no success reigning him in- we haven’t been able to even get close enough. And even Miss Parker is rebelling. We have never had issue with her before.”
Puccini rubbed his hand over his chin in contemplation. “So what do you want from me?”
“Amelia is your patient. She will come to you.”
“Maybe. But with Lyle she might do anything.”
“She will come and you will contain her,” Mr. White told him definitively. “Should Mr. Lyle come asking questions, you will tell him nothing. Do you understand?”
Puccini nodded.
As he left, Mr. White called over his shoulder, “The next time we meet, Doctor, turn down the lights. You know how uncomfortable they are for us.”
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Everybody calls me the quiet one… You can see, but you can't hear me… Everybody calls me the quiet one… You can try, but you can't get near me…
She didn’t stay in the diner- she had lost her appetite rather quickly. Surrounded by the partitions of a rusted out phone booth, Mia tried to calm her nerves before lifting the phone from its receiver.
The operator answered after several rings.
“Um,” Mia glanced around at the environment around the booth, “I’m looking for a Mia Micelli… Micelli…That many listings?”
Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and pierced it. She didn’t notice the bleeding.
“Are they listed by area? What area? I- I don’t know? Maybe Brooklyn… I don-… no, no…”
I ain't never ever had the gift of the gab, but I can talk with my eyes… Words fail me, but you won't nail me… My eyes can tell you lies…
She slammed the phone down as tears streamed down her cheeks. She found Micelli in the phonebook but there were so many and her vision was so blurred…
The phone book tumbled to the ground.
Still waters run deep… So be careful I don't drown you… You've got nothing to hear, I've got nothing to say…
Sticks and stones may break your bones… But names can never drown you …It only takes two words to blow you away…
The phone in Puccini’s office rang shrilly. He turned from the two black file folders he was studying and answered the call.
“Yes, this is Dr. Puccini.”
He listened for a moment, then his eyes widened in surprise.
“Where are you? I’ve been very concerned about you, Amelia? You come and see me.”
“Amelia?” she wondered aloud. “Is that my full name?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, astonished by how much of her memory was gone.
“You know who I am?”
“Yes, of course, Amelia.”
“I called because I thought you…you could,” she ran her hand through her hair and stared out of the window. “I though you could help… I can’t remember anything…”
“Calm down, Amelia,” he said soothingly. “Of course, I can help. But it is best that we speak face to face. This is not something to discuss over the phone.”
“What do you know about me?” she asked, ignore his plea to meet in person. She wasn’t ready for that and she didn’t like his persistence on the subject.
“I know about the trouble you are in, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Am I the City Slayer?”
There was silence on the line.
“Did I kill those people?” Her voice was shrill and continued to rise in pitch. She was near hysterics and afraid of his answer.
“Don’t you know the answer to that?” he said finally.
She nearly screamed.
Everybody calls me the quiet one… But you just don't understand… You can't listen, you won't hear me with your head stuck in the sand…
“I just told you I can’t remember! I thought I might have… maybe remembered something…But I don’t know! Why is that so hard for you to understand!”
There was unhinged quality to her voice and Puccini knew that she was on the verge of a nasty transformation.
“I just, I just,” her words came out in hiccupy sobs. “I just don’t know how I could’ve done those things… I… I can hardly squash a roach… I… I don’t how I could’ve kill a person…”
“I know it’s confusing, Amelia,” Puccini said still as placid as ever. But underlying his collected demeanor, he was nearly as hysterical as his patient. He absolutely could not loose this one. “Just calm down. Everything will be all right. We will work through everything. You are not alone. It will be much better once you come in and see me. All right, Amelia?”
There was no answer.
“Amelia? Amelia, are you there? Amelia?”
He had lost her…
I ain't never had time for words that don't rhyme… My head is in a cloud… I ain't quiet, everybody else is too loud…
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They were both on the run from the creatures from the Black Lagoon.
She couldn’t believe her misfortune. Somehow she had managed to escape into a warehouse occupied by a cult… or at least that’s what it looked like.
The storehouse was filled with rows upon rows of people, very frightened people, sitting on benches. The crowd was an eclectic mix of young and old, men and women, black, white, all races… And their rapt attention was all focused on a short, little man with a bushy beard and eyebrows to match who was standing on a makeshift platform of cinderblocks.
“We have lived in terror for too long!” he shouted in a high-pitched voice that rose higher and higher with each word. “There is a vicious murderer among us!”
She slipped into an empty seat, trying to blend in. After all, wasn’t there supposed to be safety in numbers?
“It could be the woman next to you!” he jabbed an accusatory finger at the crowd. “Everyone is suspect!”
The crowd murmured and shifted fearfully under his ominous glare.
“There is a sociopath stalking us! And he lives among us!” he declared. “She may be sitting next to you! He may be a handsome stranger- that man back there!”
His pudgy hand shot out over the heads of the crowd suddenly. The crowd turned in unison to stare at where he was pointing.
Mia followed their lead and her sight fell onto to a sharply dressed man with piercing blue eyes. Her jaw dropped when she saw who had been fingered.
Lyle!
She nearly jumped out of her seat and ran to him.
He saw her and caught her eyes. Once the crowd had lost interest in him, he motioned for her to quietly come to the back of the building.
The man up front continued his tirade.
Lyle slowly rose and Mia mirrored his movement. As they were about to step into the aisle, the door creaked open. Black Coats stood in the doorway.
He signaled to her to duck down. She crept along the outside aisle and saw an unguarded side exit- she prayed that he saw it too.
The man’s sermon droned on and not a soul seemed to notice the strange men who were searching their gathering place.
She couldn’t see him anymore as she crawled on her hands and knees to the door.
“Lost something, sweetie?”
Startled, she stared up at the old woman who had spoken to her. The woman was filthy and smelled. She gave Mia a toothless, crooked grin.
“No. I…”
The shiny black leather of the Black Coats shoes caught her eye.
“You’re real restless then,” the woman commented. She crouched down next to the girl, blocking her escape path.
Without thinking, She took the gun out of her pocket, careful to keep it hidden from the woman.
“Is something wrong?” the old hag pressed. “I can help, you know.” She watched the girl curiously. “Someone after you, sweetie?”
“What?” she gaped at her. With a fierce glare, she snapped, “No, of course not!”
“See that man?” the woman leaned close and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. She gripped Mia’s chin and raised it so she could see whom she was referring to. The woman pointed her gnarled finger at Lyle. “He’s evil… pure evil.”
Mia jerked away rudely. “You’re crazy, old woman.”
The woman merely smiled dreamily and turned away. Mia hissed at her with narrowed eyes.
“Where are you going?” her voice was no longer innocent, but angry and hard.
“To tell the police,” woman replied.
A sinister feeling filled her veins and she felt strangely dissociated from her psyche. She lunged for the old woman, grabbed her frail arm, and pressed the gun into her spine.
“You listen to me,” she said, “I have to get out of here and you’re gonna help me. Walk! And don’t say a word. Got it?”
The woman nodded dumbly.
Mia looked around the warehouse. There was no sign of the Black Coats… or Lyle.
“Don’t kill me,” the woman whimpered pitifully.
“I’m not going to kill you. Walk.”
“Please, no.”
“Shut up!”
People turned in their seats to see what the commotion was. The woman saw her chance and kicked Mia in the shin. She faltered and the woman got away.
“Murderer!” she screeched.
Now everyone was staring.
“It’s her! The City Slayer!”
And suddenly she snapped back into herself. In her confusion, Mia showed the gun.
And chaos took control as the crowd stampeded for the exit.
Lyle watched the scene unravel and forced his way through the crowd trying to reach her. She saw him coming and attempted to reach him halfway.
He had one chance and one chance only to grab her. To his chagrin, he could not reach for her with his right hand- the mass had his arm pinned against his side. He tried to communicate this to her- to make her understand, but it was useless; she could not hear him over the noise of fear. His only option was to take hold of her with his left hand. He caught her hand and she held onto him with all her strength, but it was not enough. Without the additional strength and reinforcement his thumb would have provided, he could not keep her.
It was not the first time he had cursed his involvement with the Yakuza.
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The crowd pushed her against the outer wall far away from him. Something hard and round pressed itself into her back and she was afraid it was a gun. She dared to turn to see her fate and discovered that it was only a doorknob.
She didn’t need to be forced out of that door.
The alley was empty, mercifully. The screams and cries of the terrified people still clamoring to get out filled the air. Surely, the police would be arriving at any time.
She ran stumbling through the alley, barely able to stay on her feet. Her shoe caught on something and sent her to the ground with a splash. She landed square in the center of a large puddle of what she hoped was water.
A twisted, uneven laugh gurgled out of her throat. The laughter dissolved into the deep sobs. She pulled her knees up close to her chest and laid her head against her knees. She did not hear the footsteps approaching.
A strong masculine hand captured her shoulder.
With a start, Mia turned and jumped back ready to fight or run. She stared up at her assailant and almost passed out.
“Lyle!” she cried, barely able to contain herself.
He was about to say something when the sobbing bundle of girl hit him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as though he were the only thing she had in the world. He was more than a little bewildered- he hadn’t expected such a response from. No one was ever exactly glad to see him.
Sirens wailed in the distance- the police were on their way. Without a word, he scooped her up and disappeared from the alley.
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I'm a million ages past you- a million years behind you too… A thousand miles up in the air- a trillion times I've seen you there…
He was a vain man, far too proud to admit his humanity. But if, for just a moment, he were honest with himself, he would confess that his run-in with Parker had shaken him.
He was adapted to being loathed and despised. He was accustomed to being wanted dead. But when it was his own sibling, his only confirmed blood relative, who so abhorred him and wished him deceased, it struck an odd note with him.
For a brief instant, his thoughts drifted back to his youth- a place where he rarely let them go. Broken pictures of disturbing events that had help to make him who he was flashed rapidly through his head to the tune of a cacophonous soundtrack. He could never pin the specifics down, but he knew that each experience involved the man who for eighteen years he had called “Mr. Lyle”- never “Dad”. His “father” had hated him; his “mother” had feared him and they never let him forget it. What could a child possibly do to incur such violent reactions? He would sometimes wonder about this for this was his “family’s” response to him long before the Jimmy incident. Was it that he really was just the “bad seed”? Had he always been a thing to despise? The answers escaped him because his memories began at age fifteen- before that there was nothing.
The image of his “perfect” sister floated through his twisted psyche- Daddy’s favorite. She never bothered to conceal her odium for him, so why he bothered to hide his for her he wasn’t quite sure. A part of him ached with regret- he so wished that he had pulled that trigger earlier. But the wrath it would have brought upon him was not something he was at this time prepared to deal with. She had been very lucky today indeed…
Parker’s blue eyes turned gray and he watched in curious wonder as her hair grew longer and turned to sunset red….
Lyle awoke with a violent start.
Your hair is golden, mine is gray… You walk on grass, it turns to hay… Your blood is blue and mine is red…
“Stupid idiot,” he cursed himself.
He was still in the parking garage crouched down behind large plastic barrels filled with sand that blocked off a section of the garage. He glanced around, disoriented from the blackout.
Stillness encompassed him. He was alone.
He stood up slowly, hampered by the pain of having his knees pinned against his chest for… how long had he been unconscious? A glance at his Rolex told him it had been well over thirty minutes. He bit back a growl of discouragement.
And that’s when he saw her… standing in the shadows with that forlorn face.
I can't reach you- I've strained my eyes… I've split my sides… I can't reach, see, feel or hear from you…
“Mia?”
He started jogging to where she was. He was nearly beside her when she began to withdraw.
“No, wait!” He was confused- why was she running from him?
She looked back over her shoulder at him, beckoning to him with those eyes.
His pace quickened as desperation propelled him forward. Why was she running?
To get away from you…
He stopped suddenly and whirled around searching for source of the voice. There was nothing…
He turned back and saw Mia standing there in front him. She was hugging the corner of a wall still staring at him.
Gingerly, he stepped toward her with as friendly of a look on his face as he could manage. Her mouth opened slightly in a silent “oh”. He reached out a hand to her, motioning her to come to him. She watched him with fear-filled eyes. Once again, just as he was in touching distance of her, she ran from him.
She knows who you are… the voice was over his shoulder now. And she hates you… Just like the others…
He wasn’t sure if he was running to Mia or away from the voice. All of the sudden, he was standing in the middle of a street…
The distances grow greater now… You're still alive and I'm nearly dead… I can't reach you… With my arms outstretched I crane my neck…
York… he was on York Avenue…
A car whizzed by and Lyle jumped out of the street just in the nick of time. From his vantage point of safety, he saw a terrifying sight…
Mia was standing in the busy intersection with a car speeding at her.
“NOOOOO!!!!” he screamed as the car plowed through her not even attempting to stop.
He ran to the spot where she was hit only to find… nothing. There was no bloody mess, no body in the road. Because she had never been there in the first place- he had been chasing an apparition.
Stunned and greatly disturbed, Lyle shut his eyes for a long while, trying to regain his bearing and his senses. When he reopened them, he was standing in front of a four family flat. One of the outside addresses screeched at him: 214.
He fumbled in his pocket and fished out a note card with the address of Mia’s grandmother on it. Sure enough Gianina Micelli lived at 214 York Avenue.
Something gold had fallen to the ground when he removed the note. He stooped over and retrieved the gold piece. It was the ring… the ring he had “borrowed” from that troll of a man from the doctor’s office. It gleamed in the light of the street lamps.
Leisurely, he removed the black glove from his left hand and adjusted the white bandages before slipping the ring onto his fourth finger. He held his hand out and scrutinized the fit. It was a bit large, but it would do.
With his old self firmly returned to its proper place, Lyle straightened his tie and jaunted up the stairs to “meet the family”.
Once, I caught a glimpse of your unguarded untouched heart…
“What?” An angry young man answered his knock.
Lyle’s expression was one of hope mixed with anxiety.
“I’m,” he cleared his throat and began again. “I’m looking for Amelia.”
The youth’s expression darkened considerably. “You and the rest of the stinkin’ world. Go away!” He began to shut the door, but he was hindered.
“You don’t understand,” Lyle entreated. “She-“
“No, you, don’t understand!” Mario flung the door open wide. “I don’t give a care who you are or why you want my sister. Leave my family alone!”
“She’s my wife.”
The words that were about to fly from the younger man died before they were voiced.
“What??”
And just like that he was in.
“Mia’s my wife,” he repeated, extending his right hand. “I’m Robert Bowman. You must be Mario.”
Mario glanced into the house behind him. “Look,” he whispered, motioning the man in. “Make this quick, all right. I don’t want to upset Nonna- she comes back you get out. Capisca?”
“Yes.”
Mario led him into the dining room and had “Robert” sit across the table from him. He was sick, absolutely sickened by the unrelenting freak show that continued to parade through their home since Mia’s disappearance. But this was too much for him to cope with…. His little sister got married and never told him? Mario was supremely suspicious of this claim; running off and marrying some guy didn’t sound like Mia; Maria, now she would pull a stunt like that. But Mia? Mario could not accept it.
Robert gave him a knowing look. “I take it that she hasn’t told you…”
“No.” Mario held his gaze as though a menacing glare might scare the man into changing his story. “How long?”
“Seven weeks,” Robert replied hesitantly, looking away from the persistent gaze. “It was a brief courtship, very brief. But, ah, we knew it was the real deal and saw no reason to wait.”
“So if you’re married to my sister why don’t you know where she is?” His tone was harsh and accusing.
He sighed heavily and his eyes got a heartbroken, distant look in them. “She, uh, she’s been having some problems lately… well, actually she was having them before we, you know, got married. But she’d been seeing a psychoanalyst, um, Dr. Puccini, and things were getting better… at least I thought they were. Anyway, she took off a few days ago. I got home from work and she… was just gone. I, I knew she had family in the City and I thought, I was hoping she maybe came here.”
It was Mario’s turned to sigh. He pushed his chair away from the table and leaned back. He didn’t know what to think- the guy’s story seemed plausible and he seemed genuinely upset about his wife’s departure.
His wife? There’s just no way…
His eyes kept drifting to the gold band on Robert’s left hand…
“What happened to you?”
Robert glanced at the bandaged hand. “Cutting carrots for a salad,” he said sheepishly. “Knife slipped.”
Mario nodded absently. “She hasn’t been here,” he said finally, staring at the floor. “Haven’t heard anything in weeks.”
There was rustling from the kitchen. Mario looked up worriedly. “Nonna’s back. I don’t mean to be rude or nothing, but it’d really upset her to find out now that Mia’s married and didn’t tell us… she’s always had big dreams for Mia’s wedding and all.”
Robert stood up with Mario. As the young man came around to table to usher him out, Robert took him by the arm.
“Look,” he said quietly, “I’m really sorry about dumping this on you. I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”
Mario nodded, his eyes swam in tears. “Yeah,” he choked out. “So do I. You think she’s okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I think she will be. Hey, as soon as I find her, I’ll bring her home.”
The men shook hands and Mario closed the door behind his “brother-on-law” believing his sister would be safe.
As Robert walked down the front stairs he changed back into Mr. Lyle who smirked, quite pleased with himself, as he took the band off his finger and discarded it in the bushes as soon as he was out of sight.
Our fingertips touched and then my mind tore us apart…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She found herself wandering around a deserted part of town. She stopped under a streetlight and pulled out the wallet. Carefully, she counted the bills inside and was relieved to find that there was enough to get something to eat. As she slid the wallet back into her pocket, she noticed that a card had escaped from it and fluttered to the ground. She snatched it up and looked it over. It was a business card for a Dr. Viktor Puccini and over the standard information was scrawled Friday 2:30pm and that was all.
Mia glance up and down the street before crossing to the other side where a broken neon sign of a Chinese diner flickered unsteadily.
The tiny diner was crowded with rickety tables, but devoid of customers. The stench of fish lingered in the air, a peculiar odor for a Chinese restaurant. In fact, there was nothing in the décor that indicated ethnicity; rather it looked like the diner had been hastily installed in an abandoned building. Something distinctly foreboding laced the atmosphere.
A noise from the kitchen grabbed her attention. Shadows moved around the galley doorway. Just as she was about to flee, an impossibly tiny Chinese woman stepped into the light. She must have been a beauty once before time got the best of her. She spoke in a torrent of Mandarin and did not look happy. She pointed to a table and handed Mia a menu. Since she could not read a word of Chinese, Mia pointed to a random item and hoped for the best. The woman tapped a small speaker box on the table.
“Listen.”
Mia nodded as the woman put a piece of paper with a number in front of her. In an instant, she was alone.
She removed some of the newspaper clipping from her pocket again and zeroed in on one that covered the most recent finding of Detective Wayne.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Smoke filled the bedroom suite. An ashtray full of cigarette butts set on the nightstand next to the bed.
Parker blew smoke rings at the dark TV opposite her as she listened to Jarod’s rundown of the latest murders he had investigated. One was yet another former Centre associate discovered in room number 77 of a rundown motel and the other was the manager of the same motel- no Centre connection. Jarod also said he had retrieved a broken glass syringe from the crime scene and was having it analyzed.
“So now what?” she asked, flickering the ashes from the end of her cigarette haphazardly over the ashtray.
“I don’t know,” Jarod admitted sullenly. “I’m going over every DSA again to make sure there isn’t something hidden there.”
“Any luck?”
“No. Have you found out anything about Amelia’s parents?”
“Her father, Salvatore Micelli, was convicted of a triple homicide ten years, been rotting on death row ever since. Her mother’s apparently an agoraphobic schizophrenic- she’s been voluntarily holed up at Bellevue since her husband’s arrest. Looks like she couldn’t handle the truth about her Sal.”
Jarod was silent. Parker could hear him tapping away on a keyboard. She mulled over what little information her father provided her about the Seventh Member. She wished she could have gotten her hands on that file, but there was no telling where Lyle had it stashed.
Lyle….
Her fingers and her cheeks burned… for different reasons. Her finger itched to pull the trigger that would finally and permanently send her demented sibling six feet under. Her cheeks fired with the humiliating turn of events that sent her into a chain-smoking rampage.
Jarod was saying something to her, but her thoughts were elsewhere as something suddenly struck her.
“We should check to see if Amelia is adopted,” she said abruptly.
“I don’t follow,” he said a bit confused.
“Think about it,” she challenged, leaning forward. “What do we know about my baby brother’s adoptive parents? Don’t you think it’s a little bit strange that Amelia’s father is in prison for murder and so is Lyle’s. And Amelia’s mother is a mental case and-“
“So is Lyle’s,” Jarod finished. “That is quite a coincidence.”
“When the Centre is involved nothing is coincidence.”
“True,” he murmured. After a long pause he added, “Would you go out with me tonight?”
Parker spat her cigarette onto the bedspread and nearly dropped the phone as she leapt to get the butt off the bed. There was a lovely heart-shaped singe left behind. She turned her back on the bed and walked over to the window.
Jarod was chuckling on the other end of the line as he imagined her response.
“So how bout it, Miss Parker?”
“You’re not funny, Wonder Boy,” she hissed, not even a little amused.
“Oh, come on now,” he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Don’t tell me you’ve got another date.”
“Keep it up and this partnership is over.”
“Lighten up, Miss Parker,” Jarod smiled, “I just thought you might want to come sleuthing with me. You never know when we might run across your ‘baby’ brother and his playmate.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “But I have one condition, Jarod.”
“What’s that?”
“Leave Lyle to me.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The newspaper articles were spread out before her as was every relevant item from her wallet- all the clues to her existence. However, there were several pieces of the puzzle still missing.
There were two cards lying on the table between her hands. One was the card from Sun Lei’s with the name Angel scrawled on it- the handwriting was not the same feminine handwriting as on the doctor’s card; it was more masculine. The second card was a blank white card with a phone number on it.
As time passed her eyelids grew heavy- it had been so long since she had slept. She yawned and gathered the paper clippings into a pile.
Someone entered the diner.
Three men stepped in, all wearing black suits, but only two were wearing black overcoats. The light gleamed eerily off of their dark glasses.
Quickly, they surrounded her table. Her limbs felt like lead- she couldn’t move.
The man sitting across from her smiled evilly. His blue eyes sparked in malevolence and a name broke through her clouded consciousness… Cox…
“Don’t fall asleep,” he taunted, “you might never wake up…”
The Black Coats smiled large, pasty smiles.
“Seventy-seven,” they said in unison. “Seventy-seven.”
Their voices took on a feminine quality as they continued to chant. Mr. Cox stood up and knocked his chair over in the process. The crash startled her and she jumped up, terrified and disoriented.
She was completely alone.
“Seventy-seven!!!” the box on the table screamed at her indignantly.
The men had been a dream.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Puccini was settled in a temporary office on the thirty-sixth floor until the police had finished with their investigation. Several high watt bulbs lighted the room.
A long shadow loomed over his desk.
“I don’t understand why this such an issue.” He said to the source of the shadow. “This isn’t the first time this has happened and it certainly won’t be the last. There is always a loose end to be dealt with.”
Mr. White stepped out of the shadows and squinted at the doctor.
“But this is an unusual situation don’t you think?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Never before have we had two loose ends running around that knew about each other.”
“Yes,” the doctor conceded, “but it was the Triumvirate who wanted Lyle to bring Amelia in. They were aware of the situation.”
“He has not followed his orders.”
“And this surprises you?” Puccini swiveled his chair lazily from side to side. “Lyle has always followed his own agenda, even when he was a boy. You should be used to dealing with him by now.”
“You have point,” White replied disgruntled. “But this time we’ve had no success reigning him in- we haven’t been able to even get close enough. And even Miss Parker is rebelling. We have never had issue with her before.”
Puccini rubbed his hand over his chin in contemplation. “So what do you want from me?”
“Amelia is your patient. She will come to you.”
“Maybe. But with Lyle she might do anything.”
“She will come and you will contain her,” Mr. White told him definitively. “Should Mr. Lyle come asking questions, you will tell him nothing. Do you understand?”
Puccini nodded.
As he left, Mr. White called over his shoulder, “The next time we meet, Doctor, turn down the lights. You know how uncomfortable they are for us.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everybody calls me the quiet one… You can see, but you can't hear me… Everybody calls me the quiet one… You can try, but you can't get near me…
She didn’t stay in the diner- she had lost her appetite rather quickly. Surrounded by the partitions of a rusted out phone booth, Mia tried to calm her nerves before lifting the phone from its receiver.
The operator answered after several rings.
“Um,” Mia glanced around at the environment around the booth, “I’m looking for a Mia Micelli… Micelli…That many listings?”
Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and pierced it. She didn’t notice the bleeding.
“Are they listed by area? What area? I- I don’t know? Maybe Brooklyn… I don-… no, no…”
I ain't never ever had the gift of the gab, but I can talk with my eyes… Words fail me, but you won't nail me… My eyes can tell you lies…
She slammed the phone down as tears streamed down her cheeks. She found Micelli in the phonebook but there were so many and her vision was so blurred…
The phone book tumbled to the ground.
Still waters run deep… So be careful I don't drown you… You've got nothing to hear, I've got nothing to say…
Sticks and stones may break your bones… But names can never drown you …It only takes two words to blow you away…
The phone in Puccini’s office rang shrilly. He turned from the two black file folders he was studying and answered the call.
“Yes, this is Dr. Puccini.”
He listened for a moment, then his eyes widened in surprise.
“Where are you? I’ve been very concerned about you, Amelia? You come and see me.”
“Amelia?” she wondered aloud. “Is that my full name?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, astonished by how much of her memory was gone.
“You know who I am?”
“Yes, of course, Amelia.”
“I called because I thought you…you could,” she ran her hand through her hair and stared out of the window. “I though you could help… I can’t remember anything…”
“Calm down, Amelia,” he said soothingly. “Of course, I can help. But it is best that we speak face to face. This is not something to discuss over the phone.”
“What do you know about me?” she asked, ignore his plea to meet in person. She wasn’t ready for that and she didn’t like his persistence on the subject.
“I know about the trouble you are in, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Am I the City Slayer?”
There was silence on the line.
“Did I kill those people?” Her voice was shrill and continued to rise in pitch. She was near hysterics and afraid of his answer.
“Don’t you know the answer to that?” he said finally.
She nearly screamed.
Everybody calls me the quiet one… But you just don't understand… You can't listen, you won't hear me with your head stuck in the sand…
“I just told you I can’t remember! I thought I might have… maybe remembered something…But I don’t know! Why is that so hard for you to understand!”
There was unhinged quality to her voice and Puccini knew that she was on the verge of a nasty transformation.
“I just, I just,” her words came out in hiccupy sobs. “I just don’t know how I could’ve done those things… I… I can hardly squash a roach… I… I don’t how I could’ve kill a person…”
“I know it’s confusing, Amelia,” Puccini said still as placid as ever. But underlying his collected demeanor, he was nearly as hysterical as his patient. He absolutely could not loose this one. “Just calm down. Everything will be all right. We will work through everything. You are not alone. It will be much better once you come in and see me. All right, Amelia?”
There was no answer.
“Amelia? Amelia, are you there? Amelia?”
He had lost her…
I ain't never had time for words that don't rhyme… My head is in a cloud… I ain't quiet, everybody else is too loud…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They were both on the run from the creatures from the Black Lagoon.
She couldn’t believe her misfortune. Somehow she had managed to escape into a warehouse occupied by a cult… or at least that’s what it looked like.
The storehouse was filled with rows upon rows of people, very frightened people, sitting on benches. The crowd was an eclectic mix of young and old, men and women, black, white, all races… And their rapt attention was all focused on a short, little man with a bushy beard and eyebrows to match who was standing on a makeshift platform of cinderblocks.
“We have lived in terror for too long!” he shouted in a high-pitched voice that rose higher and higher with each word. “There is a vicious murderer among us!”
She slipped into an empty seat, trying to blend in. After all, wasn’t there supposed to be safety in numbers?
“It could be the woman next to you!” he jabbed an accusatory finger at the crowd. “Everyone is suspect!”
The crowd murmured and shifted fearfully under his ominous glare.
“There is a sociopath stalking us! And he lives among us!” he declared. “She may be sitting next to you! He may be a handsome stranger- that man back there!”
His pudgy hand shot out over the heads of the crowd suddenly. The crowd turned in unison to stare at where he was pointing.
Mia followed their lead and her sight fell onto to a sharply dressed man with piercing blue eyes. Her jaw dropped when she saw who had been fingered.
Lyle!
She nearly jumped out of her seat and ran to him.
He saw her and caught her eyes. Once the crowd had lost interest in him, he motioned for her to quietly come to the back of the building.
The man up front continued his tirade.
Lyle slowly rose and Mia mirrored his movement. As they were about to step into the aisle, the door creaked open. Black Coats stood in the doorway.
He signaled to her to duck down. She crept along the outside aisle and saw an unguarded side exit- she prayed that he saw it too.
The man’s sermon droned on and not a soul seemed to notice the strange men who were searching their gathering place.
She couldn’t see him anymore as she crawled on her hands and knees to the door.
“Lost something, sweetie?”
Startled, she stared up at the old woman who had spoken to her. The woman was filthy and smelled. She gave Mia a toothless, crooked grin.
“No. I…”
The shiny black leather of the Black Coats shoes caught her eye.
“You’re real restless then,” the woman commented. She crouched down next to the girl, blocking her escape path.
Without thinking, She took the gun out of her pocket, careful to keep it hidden from the woman.
“Is something wrong?” the old hag pressed. “I can help, you know.” She watched the girl curiously. “Someone after you, sweetie?”
“What?” she gaped at her. With a fierce glare, she snapped, “No, of course not!”
“See that man?” the woman leaned close and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. She gripped Mia’s chin and raised it so she could see whom she was referring to. The woman pointed her gnarled finger at Lyle. “He’s evil… pure evil.”
Mia jerked away rudely. “You’re crazy, old woman.”
The woman merely smiled dreamily and turned away. Mia hissed at her with narrowed eyes.
“Where are you going?” her voice was no longer innocent, but angry and hard.
“To tell the police,” woman replied.
A sinister feeling filled her veins and she felt strangely dissociated from her psyche. She lunged for the old woman, grabbed her frail arm, and pressed the gun into her spine.
“You listen to me,” she said, “I have to get out of here and you’re gonna help me. Walk! And don’t say a word. Got it?”
The woman nodded dumbly.
Mia looked around the warehouse. There was no sign of the Black Coats… or Lyle.
“Don’t kill me,” the woman whimpered pitifully.
“I’m not going to kill you. Walk.”
“Please, no.”
“Shut up!”
People turned in their seats to see what the commotion was. The woman saw her chance and kicked Mia in the shin. She faltered and the woman got away.
“Murderer!” she screeched.
Now everyone was staring.
“It’s her! The City Slayer!”
And suddenly she snapped back into herself. In her confusion, Mia showed the gun.
And chaos took control as the crowd stampeded for the exit.
Lyle watched the scene unravel and forced his way through the crowd trying to reach her. She saw him coming and attempted to reach him halfway.
He had one chance and one chance only to grab her. To his chagrin, he could not reach for her with his right hand- the mass had his arm pinned against his side. He tried to communicate this to her- to make her understand, but it was useless; she could not hear him over the noise of fear. His only option was to take hold of her with his left hand. He caught her hand and she held onto him with all her strength, but it was not enough. Without the additional strength and reinforcement his thumb would have provided, he could not keep her.
It was not the first time he had cursed his involvement with the Yakuza.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The crowd pushed her against the outer wall far away from him. Something hard and round pressed itself into her back and she was afraid it was a gun. She dared to turn to see her fate and discovered that it was only a doorknob.
She didn’t need to be forced out of that door.
The alley was empty, mercifully. The screams and cries of the terrified people still clamoring to get out filled the air. Surely, the police would be arriving at any time.
She ran stumbling through the alley, barely able to stay on her feet. Her shoe caught on something and sent her to the ground with a splash. She landed square in the center of a large puddle of what she hoped was water.
A twisted, uneven laugh gurgled out of her throat. The laughter dissolved into the deep sobs. She pulled her knees up close to her chest and laid her head against her knees. She did not hear the footsteps approaching.
A strong masculine hand captured her shoulder.
With a start, Mia turned and jumped back ready to fight or run. She stared up at her assailant and almost passed out.
“Lyle!” she cried, barely able to contain herself.
He was about to say something when the sobbing bundle of girl hit him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as though he were the only thing she had in the world. He was more than a little bewildered- he hadn’t expected such a response from. No one was ever exactly glad to see him.
Sirens wailed in the distance- the police were on their way. Without a word, he scooped her up and disappeared from the alley.
