NIP 14

An irksome vibe settles on Mark. Why would Marcy resist locating Ed Hayes’ file? She always does as she is told without question or comment.

Mark cracks his neck. He is obviously being paranoid. His next phone call will help to calm his nerves.

“Sam, it’s me. I know you know what is happening. Call me back. I need your help.”
Mark flips his phone shut. He hurls it as hard as he can against the dashboard.

“FUUUCK!” His screams until his throat is raw.

*******************************************************************

“Alright, Sam is meeting us in the ABC research lab.” I announce as I place my phone in my lap.

“Sam?” questions Brad.

Brad is driving at full speed down 1-94 towards the city. The blaring sirens of the cop car keep the horrible events of the day fresh in my mind. We are racing to my office to use the research computers to look up August 11, 1979. This is our only substantial clue. And my instincts tell me this is the clue we need to start piecing all of this terror together.

“Yeah, Sam. I’m going on the air.” I say with a raise of my eyebrow.

“What!?! Sari, come on.” Scolds Brad.

“Brad…” I whine.

“Don’t Brad me. You will be placing yourself in serious danger.”

“No, he did that…not me. This piece of shit slaughtering my family put me in danger. And you know what Brad…I’m not scared of him. Come and get me.” My arms folded across my chest illustrate I am not as tough as I want to seem.

“Sari…”

“Don’t you see Brad. Once we lure him we got him.” Jeez, I should be the detective.

“Oh christ.” Sighs Brad. “This is not a TV show Sari. There is no script. I cannot risk putting you in that kind of a danger. You are not an undercover cop. You cannot be bait.”

“Yes I can.” I smirk. And I will.

“Shit. It could work. Ah crap Sari. Detective Hughes is going to have a heart attack. Literally.” Brad swallows hard. “You’ll be glad to know Hughes assigned an officer to Lizi. He’s on his way to her now. But here’s the kicker…Hughes is demanding I take you straight to the station. And this cop car we jacked.”

“No!” I panic. “Brad I need to do this…”

“Hey…chill…okay. I swear Sari Clarke, for no one other than you would I put my job on the line like this.” Brad winks. He never intended on following Detective Hughes orders.

“Thanks!” I smile. An actual real smile. “We are going to get this guy.”

“We better if we want to stay out of the slammer.” Brad clicks his tongue on his teeth. Do I detect a nervous fidget? Does Detective Brad Callahan get nervous?

*********************************************************************

“Miss Clarke!” Frank frantically runs over to us as we enter the ABC building.

“Frank. Hi.” I attempt to be polite even though I am in a mad rush to meet Sam in the research lab.

“I’m devastated to hear about your sister.” Frank takes my hand. “As are so many others.”

“What?” I’m confused.

“You have received so many letters. I’m sure they are all sympathy cards.” Frank saunters behind the doorman desk and hands me three bundles of letters and one small box.

“Wow. Thank you.” My heart skips a beat. How thoughtful.

“I’ll take those.” Before I get even one finger on the letters Brad snatches them from Frank. I furrow my burrow. “We have to be extra cautious until we know more.”

“Right.” I could be in danger. “Frank, please hold onto these for now. Do you mind?”

“Of course not Miss Clarke. Again, I am so very sorry for your loss.” Frank nearly bows before walking away. A gentleman through and through. Something about his presence puts me at ease and I truly feel better.

Brad and I stand toe-tapping in the elevator as it crawls to the 59th floor. Ding! Finally.

We tear out of the elevator to the research lab. It’s empty except for Sam. Thank goodness.

“Hey you two.” Sam gestures for us to have a seat next to him. “I heard rumblings of a murder possibly connected to Ainslie’s. Is this true?”

“It is.” I say. Brad opens his mouth to shush me but he is too slow. “And once we undercover some facts we are going live.”

“What?” Sam’s expression is more of excitement than confusion.

“Yep. You and I are breaking the story. Live if they let us…otherwise we’ll tape the segment.” I clarify. “We’ll sneak it on if we have too.”

“You got more balls than I ever gave you credit for hun.” Smirks Sam.

“Okay, okay, enough. Let’s dig up August 11, 1979 and see what we can find.” Brad nudges us back on track.

“Alrighty…August 11, 1979.” Sam says it as he types it. “Give me more. A name?”

“Sure. Sarah Jane Clarke. Wait, her maiden name. Holland. Sarah Jane Holland.” I offer.

The room is stale and cold. We sit motionless for what seems likes minutes as the data is retrieved.

My eyes are glued to the computer screen. I chew on both of my thumbnails. I breathe fast and heavy out of my nose.

The processing bar is nearing the end. The entire bar turns green and, at last, the information pops on the screen.

“WHAT!” My hands slam on the desk propelling my face as close to the screen as possible.

“Did you know about this?” softly but with concern probes Brad.

“No.” I read and reread and reread and reread the wedding announcement and photo staring back at me.

‘Sarah Jane Holland married Ed Hayes in a small ceremony outside of the City of Chicago. The Chicago Police Commissioner, Thomas Weiss, was in attendance as Ed Hayes was the recipient of the 1977 Police Officer of the Year award. Both sides of the couples’ family joined the celebration as well as the couples’ young daughter, Amanda Rose Hayes.’

Under the photo the caption reads, ‘The couple and their 6 month old daughter.’

“Oh my god. I’m Amanda.” My heart stops beating. My breath is still. I am motionless but for a tiny shift of my gaze to Brad. My eyes beg him for answers, reassurance, doubt, proof…help