Chapter 16

We were done eating dinner. Suzy, being the owner of the house, called dibs to washing the dishes for us and I immediately volunteered to help.

Other than being corteous, I needed to develop a sense of camaraderie with her at the very least. Plus, having someone dislike me in this group probably won’t bode well for me in the future. I’m practically a stranger here, yet I’m receiving a good amount of trust from Kassy and the others.

Roman already went home, taking Damien with him, whilst Kassy and Pam were watching the local news by the living room.

For the first few minutes, Suzy and I washed the dishes quietly. I was the one rubbing dishwashing soap over the dishes whilst Suzy washed them away.

I turned to look at Suzy when she suddenly paused and sighed.

“Listen,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m sorry for being rude earlier. I know you’re only trying to help, even though you’re just supposed to be here on vacation. But I can’t really help but be suspicious of strangers, you know? It’s rare to find a good Samaritan in this world.”

“It’s alright,” I tried to laugh it off as nothing. “It’s not just children who should be wary of strangers.”

Suzy looked at me and smiled. “Thank you.”

I felt guilty about being called a good Samaritan. I mean, my sole reason for helping was for entertainment and also to help a teensy-weensy bit, in order to feel the thrill of danger and uncover mysteries. I was here to have my own kind of fun, not just for some benevolent sense of justice alone.

“Everybody is on edge.” Suzy twisted the faucet off, sighing in exasperation.

By that action alone, I figured this was gonna be a long talk, so I washed my hands in the basin to brace myself.

“It’s been a week, and we haven’t heard anything from the police. We can’t help but think that my sister…” She closed her eyes, her face contorting into a pained look.

Suzy, as expected, resembled some of Samantha’s features. Though in pictures I’ve seen, I sense that Samantha had an elegant air about her compared to Suzy’s disposition.

“You don’t have to say it.” I wanted to tell her not to trust the local police, but refrained.

“Our parents aren’t well and they’re scared. My mom has fallen sick and my dad keeps overworking to distract himself. It’s destroying them.”

“Hey, there is still hope Suzy.” I almost fist-bumped myself at having successfuly addressed her in the first-name basis. “I’m sure we’ll find her soon. It’s not over until its over.”

Giving me a vague smile, she nodded. “You’re right. I may just be being pessimistic here. Van should be the one feeling more depressed than I am. The officers in town keep interrogating him. The townspeople are probably suspecting him now too. They’re putting a lot of pressure on him.”

Ah, now I see…

Damien is still the prime suspect, according to their incompetent local police. Knowing his character profile, the implications of this suspicion causes him to have repressed feelings. Obviously, turning to his friends isn’t a viable option for him. That’s why they didn’t pressure him to join us earlier. They’re trying to give him some slack. But in doing so, it would only make him feel isolated.

No wonder he looks so dejected. Other than the fact that his girlfriend has disappeared or quite possibly be dead, being the suspect is just the perfect storm for his frail conviction.

So, my invitation to the coffee shop must have thrown him off that much. If he and I were seen together in public alone, a week after his girlfriend disappeared, suspicion on him would only intensify. I would only be adding fuel to the fire.

Darn it! I can’t lie and say I’m not glad that Roman decided to join us tomorrow. How could I be so careless?

“Also…” My attention returned to Suzy as she began washing the dishes again. “I can’t help but notice you looking at my younger brother earlier.”

Younger brother… Keith?

“I saw the way you looked at my brother back at the restaurant and when we were having dinner.”

“What?” I felt utterly dumbfounded. I didn’t want to assume that she’d seen me gawking at her brother or anything of the sort. Obviously, I don’t know where she’s getting at…

“You looked really surprised to see how he acts around us,” she explained. “I know he seems rough around the edges, but deep inside, he’s really a caring person. He’s just afraid to show that side of him.”

“You do know, today wasn’t my first encounter with Keith. He seemed different the first time we met. Is he bipolar or something?” I wanted to pass it off as a joke but Suzy didn’t seem to see it that way.

“Or something,” she muttered, looking serious and grim, before speaking louder, “Keith has DID.”

DID?

The acronym has long been familiar to me, and realization suddenly dawned on me. Like putting two and two together, I now understood why Keith seemed to easily shift from one mood to another.

“Dissociative identity disorder. He has multiple personality states that change every once in a while. Sometimes, he experiences memory gaps with his behavioral shifts.”

“Ah, I think I understand now,” I told her. More than six years in criminal investigation and criminal profiling, it would be stupid of me not to study a bit of psychology or at least read records concerning people with such disorders.

“It’s depressing. We always do our best to support him but I don’t understand much about what my brother thinks most of the time. Sometimes, we can’t catch up to his tempo.”

Suzy paused for a few moments, allowing me to catch Kassy and Pam talking by the living room and the sound of a news reporter’s voice echoing in the hallway.

“Keith can’t be left alone to himself. Someone always has to keep an eye on him just in case. That’s why the three of us siblings always stuck together.”

“I gather you three are close,” I stated, not even bothering to ask. “That’s why it seems like Keith has been losing sleep the first time I met him. He must’ve been worried sick for Sammy.”

New achievement… Congratulations to Milady for nickname usage! Hurrah!

It always seems more intimate to use nicknames, and at this point, at was nailing friendly intimacy at its finest.

“Keith takes his medicine daily, and he pays a weekly visit to his psychiatrist. But lately, he hasn’t been himself. Ever since our sister’s disappearance, he’s become… unsteady.”

“Meaning?” I prompted, though I already knew what she meant.

“It may sound odd, but Keith isn’t Keith right now. At least, he’s not the real Keith.”

My ears tingled at her narrative, like a child sitting at the edge of her seat in anticipation of a fairy tale ending. “There are four different personalities inside him, other than the original Keith. There’s Henry, Zachary, and Lester.”

“Who’s the fourth one?” I instinctively asked. “You said there was four, other than the original. But you only mentioned three.”

“We still don’t know who it is yet. It’s been a mystery, to this very day. He refuses to tell Dr. Liam.”

“I’m guessing that’s the name of his psychiatrist?”

Suzy nodded. “These changes in him are triggered whenever he experiences extreme stress. That’s why he hasn’t been himself since our sister disappeared.”

“I see.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I decided to ask Suzy something I’ve been curious about. “Why does Keith seem to dislike Roman?”

Pinching her brows together, she replied, “No, it’s not exactly Keith who doesn’t like Roman. It’s Henry.”

“Oh? How is that?” I gave her a befuddled expression, titling my head to the side.

Are we connecting now? Are we actually having a decent conversation? Ha! I’m on a roll!

“I’m not sure what happened exactly because I wasn’t there back then.” Suzy took a momentary glance behind us to see if anyone was listening. Luckily, the gang seemed preoccupied by the living room. “There was an incident six years ago, when Sammy and Keith had an argument. It had something to do with Roman. Henry took over Keith’s body and since he always had a short temper, he went over to Roman’s house and fought with him.”

“Roman is extremely rich and their household security is tight. He knew he couldn’t just barge in without permission. So, Henry used the car to ram against the gates like a bull. A few guards got injured, including Keith himself. Fortunately, Roman’s father never filed a complaint nor the injured ones, for that matter.”

“That sounds quite extreme. What were they fighting about?”

Suzy’s expression changed dramatically. It was as if she just realized she’s said something that was supposed to be top secret. She evaded my gaze and spoke in a quiet tone, “I don’t know.”

The look on Suzy’s face gave away nothing. But I know a lie when I hear one…

*****

I left my phone inside my car which was parked beside a pub. It was useless now, and I thought that hacker might be spying on me through that gadget. Leisurely, I made my way to the next block, to get to the phone booth.

Glancing around the corner of my eyes, I pulled my cap further down to cover my face.

My colorful hair was carefully tucked into the cap and my spare jacket covered my figure from view.

There is one thing I am aware about myself, and one of which I do not deny. I’ll come out flatly and fully admit it: I can be paranoid sometimes. It sounds nutty, yes. But it’s a natural human experience, though I’m quite sure my paranoia is not a disorder. Plus, being paranoid has its benefits.

I have a habit of watching everyone’s eyes whenever I walk amongst a crowd of people. Neither bragging nor assuming humility, I’m well aware I can turn a few heads because of my looks. However, looking as I am now, covered from head to toe, turning heads and catching a few eyes may or may not be a coincidence.

Ever since I arrived here in Sylvan, I’ve sensed that someone had been following me. Though I never really seen a shadow, my female intuition and gut-feeling has been tingling. Any of those two, always serve me well in surviving, but with the two combined, I can’t help but feel disturbed.

I’ve been ignoring my unfounded suspicion til this afternoon, when I found valid proof of a shadow. Earlier, while I was in the kitchen with Mrs. Pierce, I caught a glimpse of a man from afar through the windows. It was only but a split second, and when I took a second look at the spot where I saw the figure, it was already gone.

At first, I thought it was just Jeremiah again. But when I looked into my phone, I realized I might be wrong.

Unbeknownst to Jeremiah, I had secretly placed a tracker ehich I slipped inside the battery of his phone, when he wasn’t looking. I also threw in a mini spy camera in the living room in the guise of his ugly furnitures. On my way out of his house, I also placed a small camera by his front gates, so I could see who goes in and out of that suspiciously guarded house.

Like what his friend claimed earlier, Jeremiah was indeed out of the town. Specifically, in Toblerone, based on the tracker. Whatever business he has there, I have yet to find out. However, the main point here, is that he wasn’t the one who was following me today.

So, who was it? Why do I get the feeling that I have acquired a new enemy?

When I stepped inside the really small, claustrophobia-inducing phone booth, I slipped a few coins and dialed the first person I had to call.

After the first ring, the receiver picked up the call. I blurted, “Fifteen thousand and ninety-nine!”

“You’re overdoing it, Milady,” a melodic feminine voice answered from the other line, clearly exasperated. “Isn’t that too long?”

“Alright, Sabrina. Let’s just skip the codes then.”

Sabrina and I have a code call. Whomever either of us start a call, we need to mention a number first and the other person must count the letters which that number contains. If the caller does not give the number first, it means that there is a serious problem. The caller might be an imposter or someone might have forced the other to make that call or whatnot. In short, failure to mention the code is equivalent to saying, “Trace me and call the police.” On the other hand, if the receiver does not respond with the correct answer, it could also mean the same way.

I briefed her quickly on my overall situation and made it as concise and comprehensive as I could. The moment I was done, she heaved a heavy sigh. “Mind games has always been your fetish. Are you having fun now?”

For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to laugh wholeheartedly, my face splitting into a mischievous grin. “Very much so.”

Sabrina is a psychologist who specializes in psychopathology. She played a huge role to my rise to the crime division. When I was an orphan and experienced a severe trauma after my blood parents died, I’ve often catch sight of her. Back then, she was still my former psychologist’s intern.

After I was adopted, she became a psychologist herself. And that’s when I learned that Sabrina was just as versatile and crafty as I am. To top it all off, she also majored in criminal profiling during her summer time and she was now a famous

“The mafia is dangerous. I’m saying level five kind of danger, Milady. We could end up getting killed or end up in some dark alley bludgeoned to death.”

“Or worse,” I added. “But on the bright side, you can help Mikee with complaining about my stubbornness.”

“Detective O’Neil is there with you?” Sabrina’s words had a humurous edge to it. “Things tend to get too complicated whenever you’re around. You’re like a magnet to any hazards out there.” Sighing in exasperation, she spoke in a grim tone, “This is too much, even for you. And where did this hacker even come from? How does this guy even fit in the picture?”

“It’s gotten quite complicated, right?” I told her in a very bemused manner. I knew she understood why I sounded excited, rather than perturbed.

“Complicated and dangerous… Not to mention, very troublesome. Solving multiple cases and facing off with dangerous people like this. Do you realize how much of a pickle this is?”

I understood where Sabrina was coming from. But to me, the more complicated a situation is, the more driven I become.

Searching for a missing person, solving a murder case and exposing a mob. That’s a feat in its own, especially if they’re accomplished by one or two persons. Moreover, it would be more difficult if that investigator herself has had a long history of being an assassination or stalking target.

“That’s why I called you. Unfortunately, I’ve become quite a vulnerable target myself.” Through the glass, I found the faint reflection of a dark figure from the alley behind me. I unconsciously felt for my gun which was concealed under the layers of clothing. “On top of that, I really am having quite a trouble staying low and prioritizing tasks over the other. The only person I could delegate some of my other tasks with full confidence is you.”

“Are you making an appeal to me?” Sabrina asked in a lenient tone. Though she sounded quite stern about it, I knew she was trying to tease me for using her tricks against herself. “You know that won’t work.”

I made a quick sidestep from the question and tried another approach. “You know you want in, but you’re just trying to convince yourself otherwise.”

“Psychoanalyzing a psychologist is a bit crude, don’t you think?”

“You do it with me all the time. I don’t see why I can’t return the favor.”

“Touché.”

There was movement from my shadow and I glared at the reflection with a grim expression. Around the immediate area, I could no longer see any bystanders loitering about. Inwardly, I cursed my luck but it never really surprises me now, how many people out there are out for my blood.

“I’ll email you the details later.”

“I haven’t said－” Her words were cut off as I ended the call.

I wanted to call three other people so that I could get a few things done quickly. But I guess that would have to wait.

Quickly, I got out of the booth to return to my car. My strides were quick and long, as my hand reached inside my jacket for my weapon.

Before I reached my car, I heard running footfalls that sounded too nimble and quick, heading my way. There was a silvery glint that caught my eye as I turned to intercept and then, I felt a sharp pain cut throught my skin.