Stan is having another sweaty, nightmare-filled night. He keeps seeing green eyes swirling at him. Gasping, he sits up; for a moment, the world is black and white, he can barely see. He looks at the dresser; no statue, it’s stayed gone.
Relieved, he sinks back into bed, sleeping at last.
When the dream starts, he is walking down the sidewalk near Holly and Fifth. He wears his coat over his pajamas, but it’s not cold. Weirdly the world is all black and white, vision is difficult.
He sees the panhandler from this evening and walks over to her. Again she looks at him with those crazy spinning eyes, and he reaches out and touches her. This time, he simply leaves the dust on the pavement, puts the marbles in his eyes, and walks away. That’s better, he thinks.
In the way of dreams, Stan finds himself at the back entrance of The Spot, the “employees only” door is shut, but he ghosts through it.
Harry is standing with his back to the door and never sees Stan touch him. Kris hears something, comes around the corner, and gasps.
“Stan?” she quavers, “Jesus! You scared me! How did you get back here?” Looking down, she asks “What’s wrong with Harry?”
Stan’s sight is so clear. He sees Kris’ heart, he wants it for himself, so he reaches out and takes it. She crumbles, unnoticed as he stares at her heart, intact in his hand for a beat before it stops. He puts it in his pocket and steps back through the door.
“Kris! NOOOOOO!” Stan screams as he bolts upright in bed. His hands tremble as he scrubs his eyes, sitting while his racing heart slows. It’s just a dream, he tells himself. Looking at the clock, he sighs, and gets up, begins his morning routine.
He has finished his coffee and is beginning to shave when his phone buzzes. Picking it up, he has a text from Barbara.
“going into work today, the senior partners will be in – would be a good chance to talk with them”
“thnks” he replies. “see you about 9?”
“great!” she answers.
He goes back to shaving, and as he looks down while dunking the razor, he sees the red gap at his jawline. Frowning, he feels it, turns his head to find another. He can feel the mask numbing his face, but he finds it rather soothing. Shrugging, he puts a small bandaid over each gap, must be a shaving cut, he thinks.
As he puts on his coat to leave, he finds dust in the right hand pocket. As it sifts through his fingers, he looks in the bedroom mirror, his green eyes stare back in satisfaction. On the dresser, the statue now occupies a place of honor. Stan walks over, sprinkles Kris’ heart dust on the statue reverentially, and with a peaceful smile walks out the door.
Ally watched the tech zip up the second bodybag. At least this call had come in later this morning, letting her get a bit of sleep.
It would be awhile before she got sound sleep again. Maybe I should move to the country and sell fishing gear, Ally thought with a snort.
Both bodies were found crumpled on the floor, in the backroom of The Spot. Both unmarked, except for a bit of dust.
Ally scrubbed her eyes. “Anyone see any green marbles?” she asked the room. “Nothing? I know it sounds weird, but I need every clue, people.”
Great, I sound nuts. I have a serial killer on my hands, and no way to get anyone to believe me. Pissed, she began to follow the last body out the door.
“Detective, wait up,” a young uniform hustled after her. “Green marbles?”
“Yeah, some were found on another scene yesterday,” Ally began.
“I saw some. On my way here, in an abandoned doorway. Usually Ursa’s post, you know, the homeless woman who lost her dog last month? Near Fifth and Holly?”, he explained, “Probably no connection, too far away. But they were weird, and caught my attention… Like they were watching me.”
“Officer… Acre?”, the uniform nodded, Ally indicated her unmarked car, “Show me.”
As Ally and Officer Acre pulled up to the intersection at Fifth and Holly, they flipped the lights, got out and crossed the commuter-filled sidewalk. A familiar fedora caught Ally’s eye, paired with a beige coat, weaving through the foot traffic. Stan Greene! They strode to Ursa’s post. Filthy clothes covered with dust, and an empty cup were all they saw.
“They were right here…”, Acre said, looking around in confusion. He followed Ally’s stare into the foot commuter crowd. “I swear they were here, Detective. Someone must have picked them up.”
“Yup.” Ally’s face was pissed. Either way, Stan is a link, I can bring him in for more questioning, she thinks.
Stan enters the Silva and Son’s building, marbles clacking in his pocket. He feels so much better with them, like he was blind or something. As soon as he picked them up, the world seemed to have so much more color. Funny how that dead panhandler woman just dissolved under his touch, in broad daylight. No one seemed to notice. Tidy, Stan thought, grinning to himself in the polished elevator panel.
To be continued…