CHAPTER TWO
Screens filled of the night vision’s telltale green and black, their barriers highlighted by pale and brilliant whites, Amy’s eyes watered at the thought of returning to it. At the junction of David’s hall, the lobby, and the rest of SNI, Amy made a left. One more detour might do her body some good. Joanne’s office door opened as Amy neared.
“Hey, Jo,” Amy greeted. “Need anything before I head back to the lab?”
“No,” Joanne glanced over the stack of mail in her hands. “Thank you, anyway,” she finished, looking up. Investigate, get the footage reviewed; call the client with the findings. That’s how they functioned. Seeing the fatigue in Amy’s features—instead of bright, vibrant eyes, a smile, and tightly pinned hair to accentuate her dusty bangs, Amy stood as though she had not slept in days—Joanne sighed. “Let’s take a walk,” said Joanne, taking the mail to Irene at the front desk before they left the lobby for some fresh air.
“How’s Tory?” Amy asked as they made their way down the walk. Joanne’s black and white skirt suit clashing with Amy’s blue jeans and sparkled sweatshirt. Amy smiled. The contrast was warm and endearing of their everyday.
“She’s good,” Joanne said. “I hear,” the founder admitted after a moment. “I have yet to speak with her.” Joanne let the overcast take her thoughts for a second. Though clouds were overhead, the sun still warmed them; made the day worth seeing. “Do you need more than two days off?”
Amy was silent for a moment. Everyone took a few days off once returning to the states. All except three were back to work: Torin, Colleen, and Garret. Garret was on administrative leave. Colleen was still trying to shake off the events. She had returned once, only to have the footage shake her all over again. Torin lay in an overseas hospital bed, comatose for all the team knew. Amy kicked a pebble along their way around the building. No attack had come in her own direction.
“I shouldn’t,” Amy began, “but, two more would be nice.”
Joanne smiled. “I can do that,” she said. “Whose DVR are you working on?”
“I’m still with Torin’s,” Amy informed. That had been her project the last three days. Torin’s and Rick’s. “Rick’s didn’t show much,” Amy paused. “It’s like she knew where to look.”
“Knew where to look?”
Amy drew in a breath to let it out—break the ice forming on her skin. “Rick’s recording was basic. I mean, he caught plenty, but,” Amy trailed off to look at her boss. “I’ve been running the timestamps,” Amy said. Usually, that was her final step in review. Janet did it in the middle; Hue: from the time he hit play. Amy used the timestamps as a way of validating her findings instead of locating them.
“Each time something happened on Rick’s recording,” Amy said, “Torin’s moved ahead of the occurrence—whether it be an orb or a knock, or . . .”
Joanne nodded, allowing Amy a way of finishing. Amy sighed, gratefully. That part of Torin’s DVR was still too hard to watch. Moisture dotted Amy’s eyes just thinking about it.
“How far into the investigation did that begin?” Joanne asked. Down to business as always, Jo could shoulder any weight for the team. Amy fought the urge to hug her. Never before had that trait been so needed. Amy dried her eyes.
“Since the beginning,” said Amy. “Her footage starts with a self-check, a look to David then it swings to catch a hand in midair. David doesn’t even-.”
“A hand?” Joanne cut in.
“Yes, ma’am,” Amy said. “It was about a foot and a half away from her shoulder.”
“Did David pick up on it?”
Amy shook her head. “No,” she said. “He does not even mention it in her footage. He just laughs and tells his joke to Garret.”
Joanne stopped walking, eyes on her investigator/Tech-Team member. That night had been a first for SNI and in so many ways. Never have they seen a location so active, so electrically charged, or so dangerous. And now, “you’re telling me no one picked up on the entities before they got to our crew?”
Amy waited a moment. Derek and Robert had been in the pane, too, across the hotel’s lobby and behind Torin. Derek glanced at to the young woman. Amy could not be sure as to why. Robert’s comments to Derek had paused, again, she could not say if they felt the presence or not. “We’re still going over that part.”
Joanne gave a wrangled nod, feeling as though Torin had rubbed off on her. “Okay,” Joanne said. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll take over for a few days.”
“Thank you,” Amy smiled—maybe for the first time since initially arriving home.
“I’ll see you Saturday,” Joanne informed. “Make it late,” Joanne turned back the way they had come.
Amy followed into the building to get her keys and purse. Joanne paid little notice nearing the reception desk. Irene, their trusted and true hub, was a smile between calls—all of which dotted her nook with post-its of varying colors. If they were pertinent to Joanne or David, Irene would hand them off with details of each call. Joanne put her hand up to stave off the tide before it could start.
“Did David head out for the Kovrov case yet?” Joanne asked.
“I,” Irene paused, uncertainty creeping into her eyes. “I’ll check,” she said, going over post-its one-by-one. Calls were not all she had up on the edges of the desk. The day’s events and system to-dos also had a place. In pinks and blues respectively. “I don’t see an arrival time,” Irene admitted, hand reaching for David’s intercom. Joanne’s own hand met hers, cool from the fresh air, yet still warm with intent. Irene stopped to look up.
“I’ll go get him,” Joanne said before walking off. Irene looked to Amy, who matched her in wonder, though not so much concern. In its place, Amy stood, bearing an aura of knowing why.
Screens filled of the night vision’s telltale green and black, their barriers highlighted by pale and brilliant whites, Amy’s eyes watered at the thought of returning to it. At the junction of David’s hall, the lobby, and the rest of SNI, Amy made a left. One more detour might do her body some good. Joanne’s office door opened as Amy neared.
“Hey, Jo,” Amy greeted. “Need anything before I head back to the lab?”
“No,” Joanne glanced over the stack of mail in her hands. “Thank you, anyway,” she finished, looking up. Investigate, get the footage reviewed; call the client with the findings. That’s how they functioned. Seeing the fatigue in Amy’s features—instead of bright, vibrant eyes, a smile, and tightly pinned hair to accentuate her dusty bangs, Amy stood as though she had not slept in days—Joanne sighed. “Let’s take a walk,” said Joanne, taking the mail to Irene at the front desk before they left the lobby for some fresh air.
“How’s Tory?” Amy asked as they made their way down the walk. Joanne’s black and white skirt suit clashing with Amy’s blue jeans and sparkled sweatshirt. Amy smiled. The contrast was warm and endearing of their everyday.
“She’s good,” Joanne said. “I hear,” the founder admitted after a moment. “I have yet to speak with her.” Joanne let the overcast take her thoughts for a second. Though clouds were overhead, the sun still warmed them; made the day worth seeing. “Do you need more than two days off?”
Amy was silent for a moment. Everyone took a few days off once returning to the states. All except three were back to work: Torin, Colleen, and Garret. Garret was on administrative leave. Colleen was still trying to shake off the events. She had returned once, only to have the footage shake her all over again. Torin lay in an overseas hospital bed, comatose for all the team knew. Amy kicked a pebble along their way around the building. No attack had come in her own direction.
“I shouldn’t,” Amy began, “but, two more would be nice.”
Joanne smiled. “I can do that,” she said. “Whose DVR are you working on?”
“I’m still with Torin’s,” Amy informed. That had been her project the last three days. Torin’s and Rick’s. “Rick’s didn’t show much,” Amy paused. “It’s like she knew where to look.”
“Knew where to look?”
Amy drew in a breath to let it out—break the ice forming on her skin. “Rick’s recording was basic. I mean, he caught plenty, but,” Amy trailed off to look at her boss. “I’ve been running the timestamps,” Amy said. Usually, that was her final step in review. Janet did it in the middle; Hue: from the time he hit play. Amy used the timestamps as a way of validating her findings instead of locating them.
“Each time something happened on Rick’s recording,” Amy said, “Torin’s moved ahead of the occurrence—whether it be an orb or a knock, or . . .”
Joanne nodded, allowing Amy a way of finishing. Amy sighed, gratefully. That part of Torin’s DVR was still too hard to watch. Moisture dotted Amy’s eyes just thinking about it.
“How far into the investigation did that begin?” Joanne asked. Down to business as always, Jo could shoulder any weight for the team. Amy fought the urge to hug her. Never before had that trait been so needed. Amy dried her eyes.
“Since the beginning,” said Amy. “Her footage starts with a self-check, a look to David then it swings to catch a hand in midair. David doesn’t even-.”
“A hand?” Joanne cut in.
“Yes, ma’am,” Amy said. “It was about a foot and a half away from her shoulder.”
“Did David pick up on it?”
Amy shook her head. “No,” she said. “He does not even mention it in her footage. He just laughs and tells his joke to Garret.”
Joanne stopped walking, eyes on her investigator/Tech-Team member. That night had been a first for SNI and in so many ways. Never have they seen a location so active, so electrically charged, or so dangerous. And now, “you’re telling me no one picked up on the entities before they got to our crew?”
Amy waited a moment. Derek and Robert had been in the pane, too, across the hotel’s lobby and behind Torin. Derek glanced at to the young woman. Amy could not be sure as to why. Robert’s comments to Derek had paused, again, she could not say if they felt the presence or not. “We’re still going over that part.”
Joanne gave a wrangled nod, feeling as though Torin had rubbed off on her. “Okay,” Joanne said. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll take over for a few days.”
“Thank you,” Amy smiled—maybe for the first time since initially arriving home.
“I’ll see you Saturday,” Joanne informed. “Make it late,” Joanne turned back the way they had come.
Amy followed into the building to get her keys and purse. Joanne paid little notice nearing the reception desk. Irene, their trusted and true hub, was a smile between calls—all of which dotted her nook with post-its of varying colors. If they were pertinent to Joanne or David, Irene would hand them off with details of each call. Joanne put her hand up to stave off the tide before it could start.
“Did David head out for the Kovrov case yet?” Joanne asked.
“I,” Irene paused, uncertainty creeping into her eyes. “I’ll check,” she said, going over post-its one-by-one. Calls were not all she had up on the edges of the desk. The day’s events and system to-dos also had a place. In pinks and blues respectively. “I don’t see an arrival time,” Irene admitted, hand reaching for David’s intercom. Joanne’s own hand met hers, cool from the fresh air, yet still warm with intent. Irene stopped to look up.
“I’ll go get him,” Joanne said before walking off. Irene looked to Amy, who matched her in wonder, though not so much concern. In its place, Amy stood, bearing an aura of knowing why.