Chapter 2
Gail Synerson could not get her staple gun to work so she went to the next cubicle over to borrow one from a co-worker, Angie. When she touched the thing, a vision of Angie and her boyfriend flashed through her mind like a movie. She could see them the night before, seated in a posh restaurant, sipping wine until they had to call a cab for the ride home. Next, the vision jumped forward and Gail saw them at Angie's apartment, clothes strewn everywhere and…
She quickly set the stapler back on the desk and felt her face flush. To cover the problem, she asked, “Did you and Greg enjoy the restaurant last night?”
“Oh, gosh yea, we… hey, wait a second, I have not told anyone about that yet. Were you at the Green Jacket last night?”
“Yes I was," she fibbed, almost adding, "And then I followed you home and was peeking in your bedroom at midnight thanks to your staple gun. Oh yea, and by the way, you are pregnant.”
Angie bought the lie and said, "Oh wow, you should have come to our table and said something. I didn't see you."
"Well," Gail smiled, "You were pretty busy so I decided to not interrupt. You know third wheel and all."
Gail waved and returned to her own desk. "Whew," she mumbled. "I have to learn to keep my mouth shut."
Gail had spent her entire life trying to hide her psychic ability. As a young girl, she thought watching crazy pictures playing in her mind was normal, that everybody could do it. Then one day at recess the teacher handed her a soda and when she touched the bottle, she saw pictures of her teacher. There was also a man, a very bad man, pushing her to the floor and getting on top. She heard her teacher screaming and crying. When Gail dropped the soda bottle, the pictures went away and the association with visions and objects locked into her young mind. With tears streaming down her face, she looked up at her teacher and apologized for spilling the soda. When their eyes locked, the teacher knew her secret was out. The next day she was gone, resigned from her job, and a sub explained to the class that she was moving away to another city."
An hour later after the stapler incident, Gail was busy editing a news article when she called out to her supervisor in the cubicle office behind. “Hey, Chuck? Would you check the number seven story? Marty put it in the Business Section?”
Chuck Veal, his mind also busy with something, only comprehended half of Gail's shouted request. With a twinge of consternation he shouted back “Okay, Gail. Give me a second.”
After typing one last sentence into his work, he closed the screen and tried to remember what Gail asked? Taking a deep breath and holding it a bit longer than normal, he leaned back in the office chair, interlocked his fingers behind his head, and looked up at the tiled ceiling. He started counting the all too familiar ceiling blocks letting his brain run through a mindless rote that helped clear mental data jams sometimes. Around tile number seven, he leaned forward and brought up the computer menu, scrolled down to story insert number seven and clicked the mouse. The monitor filled with a neatly blocked and formatted draft copy of an article cued for the presses. The title across the top had yet to be determined, which was normal and the headache of a different department.
He glanced quickly through the first few paragraphs searching for why Gail singled it out but found nothing wrong. Maybe she said eleven and not seven. He read several more paragraphs just to be sure but everything looked fine so he called out, “Gail? Did you say file seven?”
A soft, southern accented voice spoke unexpectedly from behind him. “You don't have to yell. I’m standing right here.”
Chuck jerked at the unexpected voice and tried to spin around in the chair to face it. In the process, he lost control and was about to tumble when Gail grabbed the rear of the chair to steady it. That triggered the vision but it was not Gail's first view of what she would come to know as Whispering Pines Estate.
From the chair's touch, she saw Whispering Pines. It was a huge and very beautiful mansion. As she stood there in Chuck's office seeing it, she knew it as a southern styled plantation but she also knew it to be a replica and not the real McCoy. The front of the home was elegant and painted a bright white with yellow shutters. Across the front were bay windows with wood shutters and elaborate trim. A gray Corvette Convertible sat in the driveway. She did not know much about cars but she knew a Corvette when she saw one. Most disturbing of all was a question that popped into her head. Where had she seen that place before?
Then she remembered the night a few months ago, the pizza delivery and buffalo nickel. She had seen this same house in that vision too, or almost at least. Because now, at that moment, the near forgotten vision and the present one forming seemed to meld into one view, one thought one image and one wall of emotions.
It had been a Friday night and she ordered a pizza. When the delivery arrived, she went searching through her purse for money and the shiny coin fell out and dropped to the floor. She paid the man, closed the door and then reached down and picked it up. It was a nickel but something felt odd about it. Holding it up higher she realized it was a buffalo nickel. "Gosh," she said aloud. "They started making these again?"
The touch from the nickel triggered her first vision of Whispering Pines. Elegant, roomy, on what looked to be a lot of land covered with gardens and barns of all shapes and sorts. A modern Corvette Stingray car was in the driveway.
Gail could not let the back of Chuck's chair go because now she needed the support. This vision's strength and flow was powerful as it merged into the one from the night and pizza. She could no longer remember what she saw in which vision. All she saw now was the Whispering Pines Manson only the car parked in the drive was much larger, older, one of the "big boat" types of the late 50's. Had her vision time shifted?
A man got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side and helped a woman open and close the door of the vehicle. She was beautiful and her name is Claudia. Gail could feel her joy, feelings of elation and warmth. She and the man had just married. His last name was Veal and the couple had returned after their honeymoon. The man was Chuck Veal's Great Grandfather.
The front door of Whispering Pines opened and out stepped another beautiful woman, Abatha, she was Claudia’s sister only something emitted from Abatha that felt overwhelming to Gail. Was it rage, hatred, jealousy? Was it something even darker such as intent to kill, murder? A voice in Gail's head spoke out, "Abatha is going to murder her sister and new husband."
"Why?" Gail heard herself ask.
Chuck, unaware of her vision occurring, asked "Why what?"
When she did not respond, he opened his mouth to ask again but something made him wait, watch, not speak.
In the vision, a voice replied to Gail, "Because the man she truly loved spurned her, and instead he fell in love and eloped with her older sister, Claudia."
Now it made sense to Gail. It was too late now for Abatha to have him; thus, she was going to be sure that nobody would ever have him or Claudia again. She was going to kill them that night.
When the vision passed, Gail felt her face go pale. She looked down at Chuck who was watching her intently and realized she had spoken aloud. "Oh, uh, I mean, why, I did not mean to startle you when I came in just now."
Chuck knew better but decided to let it slide. Instead, he took a slow breath of air and pretended to be grumpy. “Darn, Gail. Don't sneak up on me like that.”
This was not the first time a worker had caught him distracted with his back to the door. He had sworn to rearrange things a dozen times over the years so he could see the doorway and computer screen all in one glance but finding the time to make the changes was the secret. The current layout of computer desk against the wall and doorway behind his back was the norm for most offices but not a great idea for Chuck's mindset.
Gail, getting her normal feelings back, apologized again. “I’m sorry. When you did not answer I decided to stop by.”
Chuck waved a hand in the air and smiled. "I should thank you, Gail. For years, I have put off moving my desk
around so I can face the door. You have finally convinced me it has to be done before somebody gives me a heart attack."
Silence ensued while Chuck once again absorbed the shock of having Gail staring at him. She was a short, beautiful woman with olive colored eyes that danced with a mixture of playtime and humor. Right then she was smiling that killer smile that he hated as her boss but loved as a man. More and more lately, he could not be in the same room with her without turning soft and mushy inside. She was the first and only woman on earth who did that to him. His mind was still trying to react around her but it was not working out so well.
When the silence got painful, he said, "I thought you were still on the other side of the wall and I did not hear you come in. Maybe I should buy a cowbell and hang around your neck or something.”
“Well, I would have knocked on the door but you don't seem to have one.”
Chuck noticed she was wearing a modest but short yellow dress that highlighted her petite figure. She kept her long hair pulled back in a ponytail and kept that flipped forward over one shoulder. Everything about her seemed to radiate and glow, fill up the room, especially her face. Hers was a shockingly beautiful face, complimented by high, Indian cheekbones laid out on a plate of silky smooth complexion.
Noticing his stare, Gail looked down at the front of her clothing. “What? Is the zipper open? Did I spill coffee?”
Chuck pried his eyes away and said, “I’m sorry, I was trying to remember something. I did not mean to stare like that. Umm, did you say you wanted me to check file seven?"
“Number seven. Yes. That's it on your monitor now I think.”
Glancing back at the device, he said, "Okay, and that is another reason I need to rearrange my office. Everyone who walks in can see what I'm doing on the computer."
Gail smiled but said nothing so Chuck kept the conversation going. “How long have you been in this department?”
“About six months why, are you going to dump me back where I came from in advertising?”
“What? Lord no. I just could not remember when you came in with us.”
In her best, southern belle voice Gail teased, “Well, oh my, isn’t it amazing how time flies when you’re working hard?”
Switching back to her normal voice, she asked, “Anyway, do you agree Marty needs to move that article back to the weekend Magazine section?”
“I’d rather set fire to my hair than try and bend Marty about anything, Gail. But I have to admit, it is rather funky why he put it in the Business section.”
“Robby’s article is the usual stuff, humor and human interest so I think it needs to go where it normally goes, in the Sunday Magazine. Do you think Marty hit the wrong key and placed it wrong?”
“That is possible but our jobs are to bang out the city and State news and let Marty decide in the print copy to put it. It could be an error on his part so I guess I had better bring it up with him. The worse he could do is fire me.”
Unknown to Gail, Chuck had asked Marty to move Gail to his department in the first place. When he asked why, he had told him about her personality and he wanted her to join his work team and contribute. Well, it was not an entire lie at least.
Chuck said, “Did you know there is talk of syndication for Robby?”
Her eyes lowered slightly. “I wouldn’t doubt it. He’s good...informative and funny...he can capture a reader who wouldn’t stick around otherwise.”
“Yea, they keep reading just to see what’s coming next.”
“I guess syndication would be the next advance in career for such a promising journalist.”
“Are you jealous, Gail?”
“Jealous? Well, yea, maybe a little. Still, I’m glad to see someone getting into syndication and if anybody around here deserves it, Robby does.”
“Okay, well, I’ll get with Marty and see if he did this by mistake and let you know. If he fesses up to it then it's a good editing catch for you.”
“It’s like you said, Chuck. We don't decide where to put a story but we should bring a possible error to his attention. Putting that article in the Business section is wasting a good piece like this on the money changers.”
“Yea, but rich, dirty old men in charge of billion-dollar factories need something funny to read like the rest of us. Marty might be offering them a smile between the number crunches.”
Gail shook her head, “Who knows about such things.”
“I’ll talk to him before lunch.”
She turned to leave but Chuck stalled her again. “Gail, I may be leaving work this afternoon early and I will not be back until Monday."
"Oh? Are you taking a little vacation or something?"
"I wish but it is a family thing."
Gail nodded. "You sound serious. I don't mean to pry but is everything okay?"
"Well, maybe. It is my brother down in Georgia. I have been trying to contact him but he is not answering my calls. If I still have not heard from him by two or three o’clock today then I am going to ride down there and check. I should be back by Monday.”
Gail’s eyes sparked at the word Georgia. It clicked with her vision of Whispering Pines. “When was the last time you talked to him? My sister will drop off the earth for a week without calling me.”
Chuck shook his head. “It has been over four days and this is not like him at all. I talked to him last weekend and nothing since. I have worn out the resend button on my keypad calling. I am starting to worry that he dropped it into a saw at the timber mill or something."
"Is there someone else down there you can call?"
"I have been trying. About an hour ago, I reached some new person at the timber mill office, Thompson I think he said his name was. He claims to be the crew boss but I have never heard of him. He told me that Matt is out of town on business and gave me his cell number like an idiot.”
“Well, he is your oldest brother and a grown, single man."
"How do you know he's single, Gail?"
"Because you did not mention trying to call his wife who by logic would be the first choice if he was missing."
Gail could not dare tell him how she already knew a lot about Chuck's brother from touching office machines or even the water fountain right after Chuck had been using them.
“You don't know Matt like I do, Gail. We are close and we talk every four or five days at most. We are easy to reach with one another. Always reply to the phones. I guess it is just my gut telling me that something is wrong or he would be in touch by now."
Gail, sensing his efforts to control his temper, asked, “What about another relative or maybe a girlfriend?”
“I called the West Creek County Sheriff’s office. A childhood friend of ours is a Deputy there. Ended up with the Sheriff on the line and he said our friend was on assignment out of town and could not be reached. I asked if he could send a patrol car by the house and check. He called me back later and said that Matt's car was not in the yard and everything seemed okay. I don't know who Matt’s girlfriend might be these days and we don't have any other relatives in the area."
Gail bit her lower lip and stood watching the floor wax fade. How could she explain her visions to him and not ruin her career?
Chuck added, “I don't think the Sheriff gives a damn, but I know something is wrong.”
Gail fidgeted with her hands “Well? We can cover for you so going down there might be a good idea. It's not all that far is it?"
“Not too bad, about five hours or so. If we could finish up my work early I guess Marty would refrain from firing me when I take off work.”
“We would have to finish?” Gail said smiling.
“Well, okay. I will have to push it hard but I know you wouldn’t lean back and just watch me doing all that hard work alone, would you?”
“If the boss wants something done then I do it. It’s full steam ahead and all that stuff.”
Perhaps under normal circumstances, Chuck would have never uttered it aloud, but the words fell out of
his mouth before his brain could hit the brakes. “There’s a bit more to his missing than I have told you about. I could use your investigative curiosity and skills down there. I guess if I asked you to go for those reasons alone, I might not get slapped, right?”
The vision flared back in Gail's mind only this time there were dark shadows creeping near her view of the mansion. Chuck, noticing the expression on her face shift, figured he had over stepped his bounds and made a horrible mistake. Her next words would most likely be threats of sexual harassment charges against him. Then he saw something more. Was it cold fear? "I am so sorry, Gail. That did not come out right."
His voice brought her back and her expression cleared. Slightly blustered she asked, “He lives in West Creek County, Georgia?”
“How did you know that? Have I mentioned it before?”
“I guess so, Chuck. How else would I have known?
"Okay," she said as though some great burden of decision was now resolved. “I have always wanted to see that part of Georgia. I have never been in the heart of redneck country. Do you want me to follow you down in my car?”
Chuck felt the floor slide beneath him almost and said quickly, "Oh no, we can ride together in my car and there is a spare bedroom at Matt’s house so you can stay there. I will sleep at the mill on an office sofa or something."
Gail said nothing, only nodded, so Chuck continued talking. "I really could use your help. Every bone in my body says something is wrong and you are a talented investigator.”
Gail, biting her lower lip, nodded but said nothing. Chuck was about to explode from the gut wrenching fear in his stomach. He found his voice again and this time, could not make it shut up."You do know that rednecks are stereotyped, good old boys. In truth, they are nothing but true southern gentlemen. Yes, a lot of them drive pickup trucks and some even chew tobacco but few will fail to open a door for a lady or stop and help a motorist in distress.”
Gail, staring at him with a growing twinkle in her eyes, broke in to his rambling talk. “I know, Chuck, I’m from North Carolina, not New York City.”
Taking a deep breath for the first time (it seemed) that day, Chuck grinned and relaxed but a second wave struck and his mouth started another round of excited jabber. “Matt could be called a Redneck I guess, but people have tagged anything southern as also being redneck and that’s simply not true. Anyway, you will like Georgia except for the heat, humidity, gnats and mosquitoes. Everything else is great. If we have enough time on the way back, I will take you through the mountains of North Georgia. I bet you don't know that North Carolina and Georgia share a border. You can drive from Georgia directly into North Carolina and skip over South Carolina entirely.”
Gail, now openly amused at his banter, laughed aloud. “I did not know that.”
Chuck nodded. “I’ll go up and see Marty and ask about the article. Then I will drop the bombshell on him that you and I are going out of town following a hot story. Think he will buy that?"
“From the sound of it, I seriously doubt it. Besides, what will be more fun will be what we tell everyone in the office after we get back. That should start some rumors flying. Let me know what he says other than no. I will be in my cubicle behind that wall over there in front of your desk."
After she had gone, Chuck sat staring at the space just vacated feeling stunned and excited, all in one emotion. It was true he was seriously worried about Matt, and the concern grew deeper by the hour, but it was also true he could use her intuition and instincts down in Georgia to help find him. He was not using Matt as an excuse to drag her off into a weekend of stealthy romance.
Chuck again realized there was a ton of work to finish if he and Gail were going to get out by 2:00 pm or so. He swiveled back to the computer, reopened his work sheet, and tried to regain the previous concentration from before the episode with Gail. “Why am I holding back all the information she needs to know about the trip? Would she refuse to go if he told her everything?”
Chuck realized he would not be able to concentrate on work so he gave up, saved the file on the computer, and then pushed away from the desk. First he had to get permission for both of them to leave work but regardless of permission or not, he had to get down there and find Matt.”
Stepping into the hallway, Chuck turned left toward the elevator. As he passed the opening to Gail’s office he saw her seated behind her own desk, a desk she had moved to face the doorway, which seemed odd compared to his own. She waved and mouthed the words “Good luck!”
The short elevator ride up to the third floor was brief although another female employee had stepped into the car with him at the last second. Once the door closed, the machine gave a short lurch upward, and started to move. The woman, apparently not pleased with such rides, gasped slightly. Chuck said, “I bet you wish the floors in these things were made of glass so we could look down and see everything below.”
The woman got off on the second floor without so much as a smile. He thought, sourpuss, no sense of humor. The car stopped on the third floor and Chuck stepped out, turning toward the Senior Editor’s office that had a real door.
The brown eyed, light skinned man behind the desk looked up, shook his head, and said, “The answer is no. It will be the same answer that I give you tomorrow and the day after that. Anything beyond that time frame we’ll discuss later.”
Chuck smiled. “Okay. Then I don't need to ask if you want the winning numbers for tomorrow’s power ball lottery?”
Marty looked up and grinned. “Now that might get you a yes. What’s on your mind this morning?”
“Two things; first, one of my people think that Robby’s story, file seven, does not belong in the business section. Did you put it there by mistake?”
Marty looked at him questionably and shook his head side to side. “It’s no mistake. What is the second question that will also be answered with a no?”
Chuck held his palms outward. “Then I’ll say no more and we’ll just call in sick tomorrow and surprise you.”
Marty lowered his head and peered out across the upper rim of the eyeglasses and asked, “We? Who are we? Nobody takes off work on a Friday around this place. If you drop dead of a heart attack then you can be two hours late getting here but that's it.”
“Look, Marty. I know it is not a good day to take off work but I need to go check something in Georgia. My brother down there, Matt, has not answered my calls this week. I need to run check on him. There are some things he and I discussed in the last few weeks that makes me very concerned about the situation."
"You sound pretty worried, Chuck. If you think it is that urgent then by all means take off. Your team can cover for you."
"Well, that's just the thing. I need to take Gail Synerson along with me. She’s a good investigator and I could use the help in case something has gone wrong down there.”
With raised eyebrows, the editor paused, rolled his eyes upward, and said, “Gail? You and Gail are going to spend a weekend together. Do you think I am going to order a female employee to do that? For that matter maybe you should ask her about this before talking to me?”
“No, Marty, it’s not what you think and besides, she’s already agreed to go and help. It is important that I get down there soon as I can so she and I can wrap up our work by 1:00 pm or so and get going. If any breaking news comes out while we are down there, we can link in with our laptops.”
Marty twirled the blue pen in his right hand and sat thinking. “What did your brother get into? Was it legal?”
“I promise you it was legal but I honestly don't have time to lay it all out for you right now Marty. All I know for sure is that he has disappeared. Nobody from down there, including the law, is telling me anything. I am worried and I need Gail to go with me. As a stranger, she could snoop around better than I and find out what’s going on.”
“Okay, Chuck, but I need both of you back here Monday. Got it?”
He stood and smiled. “Thanks, Marty. I owe you one.” r />
As Chuck reached the door, Marty called, “Hey, Chuck? You really don't like Robby’s article where I put it?”
He shrugged and said, “It might be okay if you let the headline suggest it’s not to be taken as a serious piece for the business people. Just don't give me credit for spotting that placement. Gail is the one who pointed it out to me."
Marty smiled then said, “Okay. I might check with her and see what is really on her mind. Good luck finding your brother and if you need anything...”
“Yes?” Chuck said smiling.
Marty shook his head and finished; “If you need anything then I suggest you find a way to get it without bothering me.”
He waved and left the office stopping by Gail’s desk. She was on the phone and pointed at the ceiling letting him know that she was talking with Marty upstairs. He gave her the okay sign and walked away.
“She’ll back out on me at the last second. You just wait and see.” Chuck mumbled and dropped back into his world of work.
The next time he looked at the wall clock, it was just before 2:00 pm. At the same instant, his cell phone beeped with a text message. The late hour shocked him because he had managed to blank his mind and excitement, and fall back into his work. Scolding his ignorance of the late hour, his first thought was Matt had finally sent a message. If he has sent a message, will I cancel the trip with Gail or lie about it and we drive down anyway?
Quickly Chuck clicked the cell phone and checked the message. It was from Gail.
Okay. Here it comes. Dear John, I don't want to go with you anymore to Georgia.
With some dread, he punched the message up onscreen and read; “Leaving work right now for home. See you around 4:00 pm?”
His heart bounced twice off a rib or something. Her address came through in a second text with a short "ha ha you may need my address to pick me up!"
He numbly hit the reply button and spent ten minutes fumbling with the device’s awkward keypad, typing in “See you 4:00 pm. Boss said bring laptop just in case.”
She was actually going with him. "There is a God," he mumbled and closed out his work for the day.