My phone vibrated. I checked it, and it was Foster.
“Hello?” I answered desperately.
“Eddie. Sorry for the delay. The hospital got me the information for your blood work as soon as they could. Are you ready for the information?”
“I’m guessing it came up nothing?”
“Well, we still have to test your blood in our lab but, the hospital had nothing that suggested any drug was in your body that would’ve affected your memory. Only a small bit of alcohol.”
“Thanks, Foster.”
“Don’t sound too defeated; I thought you might be relieved.”
“It’s a double-edged sword, I guess. But something happened, and I want to know what the hell it was.”
Foster paused for a moment. “I’m sorry I don’t have more for you, but when we do some more lab work on your blood here at the office, I’ll let you know what we find. We’ll check it out... under the microscope if you will.”
“Thanks. Anything else for me?”
“No laugh?”
“Not in the mood I guess.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make light of what’s going on with you. It’s definitely concerning. Well, just be careful with your mission and hang in there. You holding up, okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied. I felt like I was on the brink of insanity, but the letter from C.R.G. gave me some hope. “I’ll talk to you later, Foster.”
“Sounds good. Take care now.”
We ended the call, and then I looked up the address to C.R.G.’s house and saw it online. The grass was overgrown, the house was two stories but dilapidated to all hell. Chipped paint, patches of exposed wood, and dirty windows. My first thought was that the home must be abandoned, but I could see a car in the driveway in front of the garage.
Could it be a trap?
I tried to get some sleep through the rest of the morning, and I managed to get another hour of shut-eye. I had a missed call from Martha, so I called her back.
“Hey Eddie,” she said with no humor in her voice. “I got your message. Look, I don’t really know what happened last night. My memory is faded. Like, it’s horrifying. I have no idea how I got home. I guess I drove because my car is in my driveway, but it doesn’t make sense.”
“Yeah, the same happened to me too.”
“Well, what the fuck Eddie?” Her voice broke. “I-I think of myself as a strong person, but I cried this morning. What is h-happening? Were we drugged?”
“I think we were. But I have no idea with what. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Talking to some practically naked shot-girl. She told us about the back rooms, and then everything just blanks out from there.”
“Same for me. Look, I know this is distressing and horrible, but I think there might be some hope for us. I received a letter when I woke up. It was slid underneath my door, and it says it’s someone who might be able to help us. They even say to come see them at 1:00 PM when I’m feeling better, leading me to believe they know about the drugging.”
“...I don’t know what to say. You got some letter? I think we should kick in their doors and start arresting people left and right!”
“Wait, I know that makes sense, but we both seem to be unharmed. Let’s see what this guy knows before we throw handcuffs wildly. We might be able to capitalize on something here.”
“Eddie, it’s been a pleasure working with you, but I have to disagree with your approach on this.”
“I know, I know it’s crazy and a little unorthodox, but I want to know what this person knows. Now, I’m going to go there at 1:00 PM, and as soon as I’m done, I will contact you. The person wants to meet one on one. I’ll give you the address. Could you let me know who lives there?”
Martha gave out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I’ll let you know as soon as I get in the office. What’s the address?”
I gave it to her and then went to Buckwheat’s for breakfast. As I mentally prepared myself for 1 PM, I received a call from Martha.
“Hey, so I didn’t go into work today because I’m not feeling like myself, but I did check the address for you from one of the guys down at the station.”
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“Yeah? Do you have a name?”
“Charles Robert Green.”
“Great, thank you so much. I’m glad you took the day off; you deserve some rest. Take the day to relax and try and focus on other things. Just so you’re aware, I’ll be at that location at 1:00 PM in case anything happens to me or in case it’s a trap.”
“You got it, g-man. Best of luck to ya.”
The call ended, and I stared out the window and couldn’t help but smile. It finally felt like I had a promising lead. When I saw the initials at the bottom of the letter, I had thought it was Charles Green. He must’ve been watching me at all times, it seemed. Goosebumps popped up all over my skin.
I finished my breakfast at Buckwheat’s, an omelet with a side of pancakes. I ate a large meal, so I didn’t have to worry about food later on. After paying my bill, I went to the park. It was cloudy out, and not many people were enjoying the gray day, but a weird part of me was.
After walking around the park, I went to my car, put the address in my phone, and drove to C.R.G.’s house. It was a 10-minute ride, and hardly anyone was on the road, a clear route with flatland in the background. I was in a part of Wilton that barely had any houses, but I came up to a property with a half-acre of land out front and probably an acre in the back. The grass was overgrown, reaching my knee, but the gravel driveway was empty.
I turned right, and my phone GPS told me I had arrived. Idling through the driveway, I debated parking in front of the garage since the grass was overgrown in the back. Still, I figured it would be best to listen to every word on the note. As I passed by the house, I looked at the front door, riddled with scratches. There was a tiny window at the top, slid open, with two green eyes glaring at me. It was hard to tell if those were real eyes since they were completely still.
Chills crept up my spine.
Driving into the long grass, my car idled through just fine until I made it to the back of the white garage. The paint was dried out and chipping in other areas. It matched the house’s personality.
It was 12:58 when I arrived. Stepping out of the car, I gently pressed the door shut, barely making a sound. Wading through the thick grass, I went up to the wooden fence that was too tall to see over, but there wasn’t a door for me to get through. I took a deep breath and jumped, clinging onto the edge and pulling myself up and over. The backyard was no different than the side of the house. Overgrown, but there were some rusted metal rods peppered throughout. When I looked up at the door, my whole body jumped.
A man stood in the doorway, I didn’t see him when I climbed over. He was an older gentleman with somewhat deep wrinkles and a fuzzy beard with thinning white hair. Narrowing his green eyes at me, I thought he would say something, but he only stared.
“My name is Edward Wright.”
He put his finger up to his mouth, silencing me. He beckoned for me inside his house. I paused for a moment, tapping my side just to make sure I had my pistol ready to go.
The stone steps to get in the house were crumbling, but they were resilient enough to hold my weight. Inside, a sour stench hung in the air, like something may have been rotting. Nicotine was prominent too, but fortunately, it wasn’t too overwhelming. The man stood inside the kitchen with the windows and curtains closed. He turned the center light on above, encased in a tainted yellow frosted glass with multiple dead flies at the bottom. Leaning up against the kitchen counter, he motioned for me to close the back door. I desperately wanted to keep it open to let out the stench of the house, but I didn’t have a choice. I closed it.
“Hello, my name is Edward Wright. I work for the FBI. I’m investigating the murders that happened here at Wilton.”
The man nodded. “Kind of thought so.” His voice was deep and scratchy like he’d been smoking for a thousand years.
I was waiting for him to say something else, but there was nothing. An awkward pause. I felt a mental shove to keep the conversation going. “I got your letter. I’m here looking for more information.”
“Meow,” a gray-colored cat with knotty fur tiptoed into the kitchen.
“We have a guest, Bella. Go on, say hello,” the man said, with a gentle voice I didn’t think he was capable of.
I was repulsed by the man and his house, but the cat nudged my leg, and I pet its side. It began to purr immediately.
“She really likes you. That’s a relief,” the man said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bella.” I kept petting her side while keeping an eye on the man in my periphery. I stopped after a moment. “May I ask what your name is, sir?”
“Charles Green.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve been looking for you.”
“And I’ve been watching you. You haven’t kept your eyes open. First two nights, you were keenly aware. But lately, not so much.”
I scrunched my brow at him. “Why have you been watching me?”
“I get really annoyed, okay!” He snapped. “It’s hard for me to talk to people. Because I want to help them, y’know? But when a man is working around in the shadows, ya can’t just help people, y’know? No one wants to talk to a stranger in the middle of the night. I get that. I really do. So my approach is a little different. I figure I might be able to scare someone into staying all holed up if I think they’re in danger.”
“You thought I was in danger?”
“Yes, and at this very moment, without the proper equipment, you still are.”
“But I have a gun. Is that not enough?”
“You can have all the firepower in the world. Chances are it’s not. You don’t know how to navigate these waters, y’know?” He pointed at his chest repeatedly. “I know what’s going on. I know what’s going on. Or at least, I have an inkling of what’s going on. I know what’s just below the surface level. Beyond that, who the hell knows. Only Vincent does.”
“Vincent Nelson?”
“Very good. No wonder you work for the FBI. So you’ve been looking for me, but have you been looking for him too?”
“I have.”
“I can’t imagine you had any luck because you’re not going to find him under that name.”
“What name does he go by?”
“Perseus, I think. Maybe Percy for short. I don’t really know. He and I don’t talk.”
“You two used to be close friends?”
Charles nodded. “He was practically my brother. We hung out so much and got along so well. And admittedly, deep down, I still love him as a friend, but he’s too far gone now.”
“Far gone? What do you mean by that?”
Charles’ lip curled up. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Agent Edward.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it up and exhaling a plume of smoke. The smell of burning tobacco was better than the rotten odor.
“I’ve got all day. Care to catch me up to speed?”
“Can I take you into my office? It’s upstairs. It’ll be a lot easier to explain.”
“Sure. Lead the way.”