The Bovine Connection (26 page)

She felt anxious and disoriented. She watched as the people rushed by with their shopping bags. She looked at the entrance and started quickly toward it, struck with a most curious thought… “Did others have the implant?”

Angelica looked at the forearm of a young woman with her daughter for any evidence of a rectangular shaped object under the skin. Maybe a strange object was under her daughter’s skin or the boy walking behind them holding a skateboard, texting… the grandmother holding her grandson’s hand while looking through his diaper bag. Maybe they all had the device.” For a split second, she considered grabbing someone’s arm.

Angelica squeezed her purse and Apple bag and pushed through the crowd. Suddenly, she found herself face-to-face with the familiar man. She ran right into him as if he were a wall suddenly erected in the middle of the mall. She gasped. Her eyes were wide. His eyes penetrated hers. They were evil and punishing, she thought. His face straight and grave.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

The man stepped aside so she could pass. Angelica ran through the crowd. At the mall entrance she grabbed the door handle and slung the door open as she rushed outside. She stood on the sidewalk panting, trying to catch her breath. The air smelled heavy of exhaust from the city bus parked at the curb. She needed to get back to the room, and quickly. Catching her breath, she picked up her pace and briskly walked down the sidewalk toward the Brown Palace.

It felt as if her feet had lifted from the ground as she rushed down the sidewalk. Her mind raced. The fearful thoughts were driving her to delirium. She looked back over her shoulder and she saw the man was now walking at the same pace as she, but about fifteen feet directly behind her. They made eye contact.

Angelica picked up her pace. As she made it to the entrance of the Brown Palace, she glanced back and he was gone. When she turned around, she ran right into a distinguished, middle-aged man in business attire, stepping out of the door. “Are you all right, Miss?”

“Yes, I’m sorry!” Angelica pushed past him and vigorously picked up her pace. Her singular focus at that moment was to get to her room as quickly as possible.

She nervously fumbled for her room card. She placed it in the slot and the tiny light above turned red. Her hands were trembling as she tried the card again, this time more slowly. She heard the familiar click of the lock as the light turned green. “Thank God,” she thought aloud. The last thing she needed right now was to go back down to the lobby and get the front desk to re-key her card. She closed the door behind her and made sure it was locked securely.

Angelica walked over and sat on the edge of the bed softly dropping her purse and Apple bag to her feet. She was panting and her face was red. She put her hands to her face and cried. Silently she sat and listened for sounds. Angelica looked over at the door, wondering if he was behind it, then turned and stared at the desk until the chaos faded away and her mind cleared.

Angelica leaned down and took the laptop from the package. She stood up and went over to the desk and set the laptop down. She entered the internet access code, then checked her email. There were only a few
Liberator Magazine
employee announcements unopened in the inbox. Angelica dropped her shoulders and leaned back in the chair. The delirium had subsided. Her eyes were dry. Since she still had a little time before her flight she typed “Implants found in arm” into the Google search engine. Several links came up and she scrolled down looking for any that stood out. Down the list, she noticed a blog titled “Experiencers.”

“Human abductions and animal mutilation have been reported around the world. The most commonly reported ETs are the grey beings. Experiencers of abductions usually report: Waking up in the middle of the night feeling paralyzed while hearing a humming, buzzing sound. Being taken from their bed in the middle of the night. Waking up in the middle of an examination. Odd cuts or bruises. Insertion of implants into the abductee’s skin, which some believe to be tracking devices. They are most commonly reported as a small triangular shaped metal object.”
Angelica looked over at the glass with the rectangular object and pursed her lips.

“These advanced beings have the technology to slow down the vibrational rate of energy; thereby, moving the subject through objects such as walls, ceilings, floors, mattresses…”

Angelica’s cell phone rang, causing her to jerk dramatically. She rose up from the desk and found it in her purse. “Angelica Bradley!” she answered.

“Angelica, How are you?” His tone was flat.

“Hello, Michael, I’ve been better. Did you find out anything?” She sighed.

“Yes, it was suicide!” He took a deep breath.

Angelica was quiet for a moment before responding as her jaw dropped… “Really?” She gasped.

“That’s what Sheriff Taylor said. I overheard one of the deputies say his house was a mess, like he went crazy and ransacked it before he killed himself.” He paused. “Kind of odd.”

Angelica thought for a moment. “How… how did he do it, Michael?”

“He hung himself from his upstairs banister,” he said softly.

The image of Matthew hanging from the banister infiltrated her mind. “No!” Angelica starting pacing back and forth as she always did whenever she was trying to process something. Angelica started to speak and then hesitated. After a few seconds, she continued. “I don’t think he killed himself.”

“What?” Michael sounded confused. “They found him hanging from a rope. He’s gone, Angelica!”

Angelica, frustrated, interrupted him, “No, I mean I think someone else did it! Listen, I didn’t want to worry you but my satchel was stolen on the plane. Dr. Goolrick thinks I’m probably being followed and I think so, as well. Actually, I’m certain of it.

And there was this strange voicemail from a man while I was still in Elberton telling me I may be in danger. And Michael, do you really think that Matthew was in any frame of mind that could have caused him to kill himself?”

Michael paused for a second then gently spoke, “I’m coming to you. When do you get back to D.C.?”

Angelica was still pacing the floor. “Not yet, I need you to do something first. I need you to go to Matthew’s house and look around. Search around for files -- anything connected to the mutilations -- and bring them to me. But please… be very careful.”

Michael hesitated, “Okay, I’ll go there tonight. But then I’m coming to you!”

Angelica nodded to herself still anxiously pacing. She caught her reflection in the large window. “Michael, wait until tomorrow evening to come to D.C.”

Michael’s voice did not hide the fact that he was clearly worried. “If you’re in danger, I need to be there! I’m not losing another person I care about… Do you understand?”

“Yes, you won’t lose me, I promise. Just be careful, too. They probably know about you if they are watching me. I’ll see you soon.” Angelica waited for Michael to say good-bye, and then she hung up.

Feeling disorientated, she put her palm on the top of her head while continuing to pace back and forth in the room. “Poor Matthew!” she thought aloud.

Angelica put her cell phone back in her purse and went over to the glass containing the metal band on the dresser. She took it out and found a Brown Palace cocktail napkin with the brown mythological guardian griffins’ logo. She placed it inside the napkin and tightly folded the edges around it before putting the napkin in her wallet. She gathered her laptop and suitcase and left the “Mile High City.”

H
e crossed over the yellow police tape and pushed the old door open. The house was dark and uninviting, and smelled faintly of moth balls. Michael turned on a small craftsman’s style lamp on a side table in the foyer. He was shocked to see the house was a mess, ransacked, as the officers had said. It was much worse than he had expected. There were tables knocked over, paper’s scattered about and broken glass everywhere. Matthew’s body had been removed earlier that day and apparently the medical examiner had cut the rope somewhere between the banister railing and his neck since he could see the other end still hanging above him on the railing.

Michael heard a noise and flinched. He remained still, waiting for another sound. He was sure he heard the sound of something fall in the other room.

Breathing heavy, he was nervous and on edge. He didn’t say a word. He stood there motionless trying to hold his breath as his chest pumped up and down, peering into the darkness, waiting to see if someone would emerge from the shadows. “Meow.”

Michael finally let out a breath. “You scared the living day lights out of me, kitty.” Matthew’s cat, Lady, stepped out from the darkness meowing once more as she rubbed against Michael’s leg, leaving long white hairs behind. Michael reached back, turned the knob and let Lady out the front door.

After shutting the door, he turned and observed the hanging rope for a moment, and then clicked on his flashlight and proceeded into the room where Lady had just come from. It was a disaster; he stepped over papers and glass, shining his flashlight down as he walked around. The furniture seemingly grew larger as he shined the light on it.

Michael leaned over and picked up a couple of irrelevant papers, quickly discounting and dropping them. Kicking things out of his way, he walked toward the dining room, leading into the kitchen. He sorted through all the clutter strewn about the floor, but found nothing pertaining to the mutilations.

In the kitchen was a plate with a half-eaten sandwich on the counter, alongside an opened Icehouse beer. The small kitchen was illuminated only by the flashlight. Although most of the drawers were pulled out, the kitchen appeared to be mostly untouched.

Michael continued through the archway leading down the hall to Matthew’s study. Shining his flashlight on the floor, he saw a bronze desk lamp, so he stepped over and picked it up and placed it back on the desk.

As the light from the lamp lit the room, he caught sight of a lanky shadow beside the bookshelf. His muscles tightened as he spun around with the flashlight. Michael released the muscle tension with a quick breath. Nothing was there.

He shined the light around the study. The desk drawers were lying empty on the floor. Papers were everywhere. Michael got down on his knees and went through them. He knew Matthew had accumulated several stories through the years but nothing about the mutilations appeared to be there. Michael realized he probably wasn’t going to find anything that would help Angelica. He continued to look around the study until finally giving up.

As he made his way cautiously up the stairs, Michael shined the flashlight on the old hardwood steps. Walking past the rope and to a bedroom, he turned on the light and gave it a quick look-over. It was undisturbed. It must be a guest room with a few empty drawers open, he concluded, and of no interest to whomever was here.

Michael found another guest room undisturbed, much the same as the first, so he crept over to the room directly across from it. When he turned on the light, as he had expected, it was Matthew’s room. The bed was unmade and there were clothes hanging out of the open drawers. It appeared to him that someone had looked through all the drawers, leaving them open or on the floor. Clothes were thrown out of his closet and scattered about, but still there was nothing that looked important from what he could see. Michael walked across Matthew’s room and into his bathroom. Stepping over his personal items as glass cracked under his shoes, he opened the medicine cabinet. Michael looked around and then went back in the bedroom. He didn’t know what he was looking for, and he sure didn’t see any papers or documents related to the mutilations. He also felt a bit uneasy disturbing what he now considered a crime scene. It was hopeless… There was nothing to take to Angelica, nothing that was left anyway. Was it possible that the killer was looking for and ultimately found the same documents he was now searching for in the shadows of this old, decrepit house?

He was just about to leave when he noticed a rather large hand-carved Egyptian amulet lying on the dresser. Remembering he had brought it back from his travels and given it to Matthew, without hesitation, he went over, picked it up, and put it under his arm. He turned off the light and walked back down stairs. Michael looked around one last time making sure the lights were off and then opened the door to step out.

As he pulled the door shut, Michael turned around to see Sheriff Taylor standing on the porch with both hands on his holster. “Holy shit… Sheriff!” Michael dropped his flashlight and the amulet.

“Michael, I thought that was your truck! What the heck are you doing here, son?”

Michael leaned over and picked up the flashlight and then the amulet. Michael caught the sheriff looking at it suspiciously, so he lifted the handcrafted, knot-shaped amulet. “I wanted something to remember him by. I saw it lying on the dresser and it felt right to take it since I had given it to him.”

The sheriff tilted his head and nodded. “You shouldn’t be removing objects from a crime scene, son. What is that thing?” The sheriff appeared curious. Michael held it up. “An Egyptian relic, a tyet-knot.”

The sheriff’s eyes softened and he looked down. “I’m sure sorry about Matthew. He will be missed. I’ve known you boys since you were kids -- runnin’ around town, drinkin’ beer, and gettin’ into trouble.”