Alek stared at the crinkled white paper. The colorful image stamped on the page didn’t match the gloomy heading, MISSING, hung above the vibrant picture in bold black letters damning the beautiful young woman below. She posed with a hand on each hip of her white dress. The fabric seemed brighter than the white of the paper. It highlighted her tan skin and accentuated her curvy silhouette. Dark brown eyes sparkled up at Alek and enhanced her broad smile. Her hair matched the color of her eyes and fell in thick waves around her shoulders.
“Oracle,” he whispered, feeling the fire inside of him pulse with the word. He folded the flyer and put it in his back pocket. “I must find a faster way to travel.”
Alek jogged to a rack of banana yellow mopeds lining the building closest to him. Each had the University of Tulsa logo on it with the words Property Of stamped in bold above. A framed note bolted to the building’s brick read: Visit the Activities Office with your student ID to checkout a key and helmet for the university scooters. Failure to do so will result in a fine and a hold will be placed on your transcript. This area is being monitored by CCTV.
“It’s too bad you put your shirt back on.” Red walked her scooter up behind him and giggled.
“You startled me.”
“Sorry.” She held out her well-manicured hand. “I don’t think I actually introduced myself before. I’m Bethany.”
He looked at her hand, and then back up at her. “Hello again, Bethany.”
“I understand why you wouldn’t want to shake my hand.” She smiled coyly at him and adjusted the purse strap slung across her body. “I’m not actually friends with Jason, and I think what you did was mad cool.”
“I did not frighten you?”
“Oh, no you did. But it’s not like you did something a million other people wouldn’t have done. It was deserved. He’s a total dick. Is there any way you’d do me a favor? I got this automated text saying that I have to come check in with the Activities Office,” she explained. “It’s a holiday weekend. You’d think they would have better things to do than stalk students about late scooters.”
“Quickly, tell me, what is this favor.”
“Oh, sorry. Forgot that you’re on a manhunt. I just need you to hold my scooter while I go inside. I don’t want to leave it out here. Campo are vultures. If they scan it and find out that it’s late, they’ll confiscate it and I don’t have a car. It should only take a minute, two tops. Do you have time?”
He nodded and grabbed the scooter’s handles.
“Awesome.” Bethany clapped. “The keys are in there, so if campo comes up, just sit on it and act like it’s yours. They won’t bother you.”
As soon as her red ponytail was out of sight, Alek removed her water bottle and notebook from the front basket and dropped them on the sidewalk. He threw his leg over the moped and sat on its padded seat. The key was already in the ignition, and he knocked the frilly key chains to the side and read the instructions. Turn key to START. He rotated the key to the sticker labeled “start.” Be sure RED brake levers are compressed before hitting the GREEN START button. Rotate handle to accelerate. Always watch for pedestrians. “Simple enough.” He did as instructed and the moped sputtered to life. Alek gripped the handles and turned them toward his body. The scooter lurched forward into the row of matching machines. Alek put his feet on the ground and walked backward off the sidewalk and into the street. “Let’s try this again.” Slowly, he rotated the handle. The engine’s hum intensified, and the scooter inched forward. He relaxed and cranked on the handle. Urgency pulsed through his core, and he let it guide him away from campus.
? ? ?
Schilling sat hunched over his desk munching on a bagel while studying photos and witness statements.
“We finally got something.” James handed Schilling a photo and sat on the only corner of the desk not cluttered by paperwork. “They had to blow the image up to twice its normal size, which is why the clarity looks so bad, but we got him.”
The black Ford looked like a speckled rock in the low-resolution photo. “That’s his car?” Schilling asked, wiping cream cheese from the corners of his mouth.
“Tech guys pulled it from a LARP video some students were shooting. Got our suspect switching cars in the background.”
“A LARP video? What in the hell is that?” Schilling scrunched his brow, highlighting the deep creases in his aging face.
“Live Action Role Play. People get in costume and act like characters from games or books,” James explained. “The students shooting that video had crescent moon tattoos painted on their faces and were sneaking around campus pretending to be vampires.”
“Strange,” he mumbled. “Were they able to get the plates off this and run a check for the address?”
“The resolution is too bad to make anything out, but we put an APB out on the car and have uniforms canvassing the area.”
“They find anything in Eva’s car?”
James shook his head. “I’m waiting to hear more, but they said it was wiped clean.”
Schilling mindlessly clicked his pen. “There has to be something connecting the two victims.”