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This is part 5 of my story Hello, Neighbor.
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Some of the situations and people are based on personal experience, or things I heard from friends. But by and large it is all my fantasies.
If you enjoyed reading it, please let me know. If you have any comments, criticisms or suggestions feel free to let me know. I can be contacted at boojum64@gmail.com.
As always, I am grateful to nifty.org for hosting my story. Please show your appreciation to nifty, by donating to the site:
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The repeated chiming of my phone pulls me out of my sleep, the next morning. I jerk awake, from a nightmare, heart pounding, filled with a feeling of fear and impending doom. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I am actually safe at home in bed. Dex, my dog is lying next to me, making small yipping sounds, his legs twitching, as he dreams his doggie dreams. For once, I'm not annoyed that he got onto the bed, and I take some comfort from his presence. Gradually I calm down, as I try to make sense of the fragments of dream that I can recall. Mostly what I remember is the sensation of being chased, by something or someone, who scares me.
My phone chimes again, signaling another incoming message.Nobody I know would be sending me messages so early, unless it is important. My first thought is that the messages are from Aaron, but they all are from Kurt, my boss.
"Don't forget, we're celebrating Tom's retirement today."
"You said you're bringing a cake, so don't forget."
"Also bring a cake knife."
"Also get some paper plates."
"Kurt," I text him in return. "It's barely 7:00 am. Don't you know it's illegal to send work related messages in the middle of the night?"
"Well some of us have been up for two hours already," he texts back.
"So don't get up so early," I reply.
"I didn't have a choice. My daughter woke up, and wouldn't go back to sleep."
Usually I would enjoy this kind of banter, Kurt is a great boss, but not today. My mood is still kind of dark, from my nightmare.
"The joys of parenting," is all I text back.
As I shower and prepare for my day I try to think what is stressing me, to cause these dreams. The major change in my life lately is that I started going out with Paul. Could it be related to the fact that we had sex? I consider it. In a way, it means that I am giving up on the idea of Aaron, and I realize that I'm not happy about this. Just thinking about him makes my heart speed up, and I realize that I'm not over him.
The thought of Aaron inevitably leads me back to his mysterious envelope, and to my dilemma as to what I should do with it. More than two months have passed since Aaron brought it to me, but I never did anything with it, except hide it. After being interrogated by Paul and HookNose, I didn't know what to think. Was Aaron really a cop gone bad? If so, should I really do what he asked? How do I know that I am not passing something crucial over to another bad cop? Or perhaps I will be caught as an accomplice of his?
Perhaps I should have given the envelope to Paul. Perhaps I should simply destroy it. I vacillate between the options, unable to reach a decision.
As I leave for work, my phone chimes again, this time with a traffic update. However, it serves as a reminder of the message I received from Kurt. A cake and a cake knife, he said. I don't have a cake knife, so I just take the largest, sharpest kitchen knife I can find, and stash it in my bag. Then I go across the street to the local bakery, and buy the fanciest cake that they have.
The scary images generated by my nightmare continue to haunt me all through the day. I am jumpy and irritable, and I cannot shake my feeling of impending doom. Everything seems to remind me of Aaron, and I feel very distracted. The cake that I bought for Tom's upcoming retirement is a great success. A couple of people make speeches, some elicit gales of laughter. But none of it seems to reach me.
In the afternoon, Kurt calls me into his office
"Is everything all right?" He asks.
"Yes. Why?"
"You've been very distracted, and depressed lately. Is something on your mind?"
I really long to tell him. To tell anyone. But I feel that I can't.
"It's just that a friend of mine asked me to do something for him, and I'm not sure whether I should," I tell him.
"Well, I guess that depends on how much you trust your friend," he replies.
And when he says it I feel something crystallize in my feelings. He's right, I realize. It all boils down to whether I believe Aaron or not. In that moment I resolve to go looking for this guy that Aaron mentioned.
"You're right," I tell Kurt. "I know what I should do now."
"Well," he sounds almost surprised. "Glad I could help. Now get your mind back on your work."
Once back at my desk, I consider the new problem that I have. How do I find this guy, the one Aaron wanted me to inform? A search on the internet brings up no results. After a series of calls, getting shunted from department to department, and wasting quite a long time on hold, I finally have a number for Special Detective Naim Hadidi. I dial the number, and a very bored sounding woman's voice says "Yeah, vice."
"Er... I'm looking for detective Hadidi. Is this-"
"Hold please," she cuts me off.
After a few seconds I hear the phone ringing.
"Hadidi," a man's voice. I can hear typing noises and faint voices in the background, indicating that I am on a speaker.
"Er... yes, hi. Is this detective Naim Hadidi?"
"Yeah, speaking. How can I help?"
"I was referred to you by a .... um... mutual acquaintance."
"Yeah?" He sounds impatient.
"Yes. Aaron Tobias."
There is a moment of silence, then I hear a click, as he picks up the handset, and the background noise is muted.
"Can I call you on my mobile in five minutes?" He asks. Now he sounds more alert.
"Well... yes-"
"Gimme the number".
I give him my number.
"Five minutes, exactly!" And the line goes dead.
True to his word, exactly five minutes later my phone rings. I have it in my hand, and answer immediately.
"Hello?"
"Hadidi here. Who is this?"
"My name is Steve-"
"Barnes. So you finally decided to come clean. Where are you?"
"I'm at work. I finish in a couple of hours."
"I'll meet you at your apartment. And Barnes?"
"Yes"
"Be careful. These are dangerous people." And once again, the line goes dead.
"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," I say into the inert phone. "I'll miss these little heart to heart conversations of ours."
It is just getting dark, a few hours later, when I leave the office. The parking lot seems darker than usual, and through the gloom I can make out a beefy figure standing by my car.
"Paul?" I ask as I get closer.
He straightens, and says "Steve".
"Have you come-"
At that moment someone grabs me from behind, and a hand clamps over my mouth. I struggle, and feel something sharp prick the side of my neck. Then whoever was holding me releases me. I take a couple of steps forward, but my legs suddenly feel rubbery, my vision blurry. I stumble, and catch myself on the side of a car nearby. But my arms have no strength to hold me, and I slide down to the ground. I look up into Paul's face, as he watches me. I want to say something, but the words don't come out. Darkness closes in on me