Clocks Without Hands (Chapter-9)

I bounded through the doors of the coffee shop as soon as the owner flipped the sign to open. He looked surprised at my eager face.

“Hi, can I help you?” I held up the small picture of Mr. Green I had printed from his website.

“Do you recognize this man?” He adjusted his glasses and peered down at the small image.

“Why, that’s Mr. Gray! He’s a regular. Comes in every day after school hours and always gets a caramel macchiato.” He looked at me curiously. “You a detective or something?” He laughed at his own joke.

“Thanks for your time. Do you have a phone I can use?” He hesitated.

“Ummm, I guess you can use my cell phone. Do you not have your own?”

“I left it at home,” I answered quickly. “My mom will worry if I don’t call her.” He reached into his pocket and handed me his phone.

“Thanks.” I strode over to a booth well out of his earshot and dialed Jacob’s number. He answered on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Tyler.”

“Oh, hi Brandon. I’m in the school hallway.” I admired his ability to think on his feet.

“Listen, I need you to park at the coffee shop on the square after school. Actually, skip last period. I want to follow Mr. Green from here.”

“Who is Mr. Green.”

“I mean Mr. Gray. I’ll explain that later. I don’t have a car to follow him. That’s why I need you.” There was no hesitation on the other end of the line.

“I’ll be there.”

I walked several blocks to the closest grocery store. The newspaper stand was located right by the front door. I snatched up the thickest one, then went to the back of the store to find myself some food. My stomach was grumbling like it hadn’t been fed in ages. I selected a loaf of bread and then went to the meat section. A cheap bag of turkey sat on the shelf, and I grabbed it right up. That’s when I noticed a pair of eyes on me. I looked to my right and saw a small elderly lady looking in my direction. She quickly looked away as soon as she saw me looking in her direction, and that was how I knew that she was onto me. After a few seconds, she glanced back at me.

“What are you looking at?” I asked angrily. She let out a small gasp, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded. How could this lady think that I was out to hurt her?

“I’m innocent, okay? I don’t know what the police have been saying in the media, but they are looking in the complete wrong direction.” Having said my piece, I clutched onto my items and took off running. There was no time to stop and pay for the merchandise because too many people were now looking in my direction. The doors slid open for me, and luckily no alarm sounded as I burst outside. Nevertheless, the damage was done. Heavy footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned my head slightly to see a loss prevention officer coming my way. This lent my feet wings. The loaf of bread slapped violently against my thighs, and the pages of newspaper flapped in the wind.

“Stop! Stop!” I could hear him yelling behind me, and looked back. His anger suddenly turned to fear, and I felt the ground underneath me change from concrete to asphalt. A loud screeching reverberated in my ears, and I turned to see a massive semi truck careening towards me. In this moment, I imagined that the clock in my visions had hands, and they were spinning rapidly until suddenly they stopped, disappearing again. Was I out of time? Was this the end of my life? I threw my hands up as an attempt to protect myself from the eighty thousand pounds of metal coming at me. The driver honked his horn loudly, a wild look in his eyes. I turned my head away from the vehicle an braced for impact. The screeching sound was so loud now that I worried that my eardrums might burst, but then again, that would be the least of my worries. I felt something nudge my backside, and realized that the truck had stopped just in time. I turned to find the officer and the driver gaping at me, too much in shock to make any sudden moves. Pedestrians were starting to emerge from local shops to observe the commotion, and I took off once again. No one followed me, but I didn’t feel safe until I was wedged in the back booth of the coffee shop, a sandwich on the table and a newspaper in my hand, shielding myself from the rest of the shop. The clock on the wall told me that it was last period, and that meant that Jacob would be arriving with his truck soon. The loaf of bread and container of turkey sat beside me in the booth, just out of sight of anyone who looked my way. I waited nervously, pretending to read the local sports news. The minutes ticked by slowly, and I turned the newspaper around to look for more reading material. There was an entire page dedicated to the recent killings. The article covered each of the girls, and I was careful to avert my eyes from their pictures. I was thankful that the article had no mention of my name, although it did give a brief synopsis of the chase through the woods in which I had escaped capture through the river. The ringing of the bell marked the arrival of another customer, and I raised my head slightly to peer just above the newspaper. Mr. Green was stepping up to the counter. I shot my head back down, and the rustling of the paper threatened to give me away. The article was now facing me, so hopefully anyone glancing in my direction wouldn’t make the connection between me and the fugitive on the page.

“One caramel macchiato,” I heard a voice say, and I knew that it was his. I could almost hear his mimicking voice.

“Watch your back! Watch your back! Watch your back!” The whirring of machinery sounded, and Mr. Green cleared his throat loudly, tapping his foot impatiently. My eyes peeked out over the top of the newspaper. He looked down at his watch and let out a small sigh. Where did he need to be?

“One caramel macchiato,” the man said, sliding the cup across the counter. “Have a great afternoon, Mr. Gray.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled. He turned to go, and I stood up to follow him. Outside, I took note of the gray SUV he stepped into. I had a limited amount of time to get to Jacob so that we could follow him. When I was sure that Mr. Green wasn’t looking my way, I darted into the alleyway. Jacob’s truck sat straight ahead, but he wasn’t looking my direction. My feet pounded hard on the pavement, and I thought I saw movement beyond Jacob’s head. I brought myself to a halt, peering into the distance. Something didn’t feel right. The figure beside Jacob turned, and a big flash of blue caught my eye. An officer stepped into my view. He was deep in conversation with Jacob. I scolded myself quietly. How could I have been so stupid? The police must have been vigorously searching the area after the old lady in the store recognized me. They knew that Jacob and I knew each other, and now probably suspected that he was acting as my getaway driver. I hated how much I had gotten him involved, but then again I didn’t really have another choice. The cop turned his face. I recognized him as one of the officers on the case, but his name didn’t come to mind. His eyes started to squint, and with that, I was off. My feet slammed the pavement hard. I was just trying to get away, not worried about how much noise I was making. The hum of Jacob’s engine must have covered my footsteps, because when I rolled my head around, the officer had diverted his attention back to his conversation with him. I just prayed that he wouldn’t peer farther down the alley and see my fleeing figure. The corner of the building provided me with a safe haven from his line of sight, and I rounded it quickly. A bus sat parked at the curb, and I squeezed through the doors just before they shut.

“Excuse me, miss. You have to pay to ride,” the bus driver pointed her long finger at me. Her nail was longer than it should have been, and the red paint was badly chipped.

“Yes, I am so sorry about that.” I peeled a few dollars from my hand and stuffed it into the small jar. That’s when I realized that I was traveling rather light. The loaf of bread, newspaper, and turkey was still sitting in the corner booth of the coffee shop. It wouldn’t be long before the police recovered the missing items. There was no way that I could go back there, and Mr. Green had gotten away. Who knew what he was doing now, and I regretted that I wasn’t there to stop him.

There were only a few other people on the bus. One man sat stretched across the entire back row, sound asleep. A family with several small children sat a few seats away from me. The youngest, looking about to be four years old, pointed up at me.

“Mommy, how come she is bleeding?” Her mom quickly shushed her, pulling the girl up onto her lap and drawing her attention away from me. I peered down at my calf. The old wound was oozing a small amount of blood. The only thing I could do was hold my hand over it, letting me blood drip down my fingers and across the floor. A police siren suddenly cut through the air, and I jumped up in fear. The entire bus, even the driver turned to look at me.

“You need to be seated at all times,” she scolded me. “Otherwise you can get off my bus.” My face burned red with embarrassment. In the commotion, my hand had slipped off of my calf and into the air, splattering small drops of blood onto the short ceiling above me. The deep red stood out against the shiny white roof. Luckily, the driver didn’t notice the mess that I had made, but I had awoken the sleeping man in the back.

“Honey, are you okay?” He walked towards me and sat directly beside me. I sat back down, this time one seat over.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He pointed to my calf.

“Are you sure?” I was getting aggravated.

“Yes! I said that I was fine.” The bus driver slammed on her brakes.

“That’s it,” she said. “There’s no yelling on my bus. Get off!” I stared hard at her.

“I wasn’t yelling.” The rest of the bus was dead silent. The bus driver glared in my direction.

“Get off.” I crossed my arms. The man next to me gave me a pleading look that told me to stay quiet.

“Why should I have to get off?” Her frown deepened.

“Because I said so, and it’s my bus. Now get off before I have to call the police.” Those words struck me to the bone. The bus hissed to a stop and the doors swung open. The driver stood, placing her hands on her hips. She waited quietly for me to depart. I realized that I had drawn an undesirable amount of attention to myself, and that could have been a dire mistake. To avoid a further scene, I walked right off the the bus. Several pairs of eyes were still on me as it started to pull away. The bus driver gave me a fake smile, then waved her phone in front of the front window. She started dialing, and I knew that she was calling the police anyway. There was no time for me to stick around. I took in my surroundings around me, and recognized that I was only about two miles from my hotel. It was possible for me to run that distance in less than twenty minutes. With nothing in my hand, the run was rather easy. In my jeans, it was difficult to disguise myself as a jogger, but it would have to do. My arms pumped from my hip to my shoulder, and my turnover increased as I got into a rhythm. The concrete turned into grass while I cut through side yards to avoid the public eye. A small police siren sounded in the distance, but I felt confident that I had put a good amount of distance between me and where the bus driver had kicked me off. My breaths were getting heavier, and I slowed to a walk when the hotel came in my sight. Because I worried that the kiosk workers would become suspicious if I kept coming in in the same outfit everyday, I decided to stop at the thrift shop across the street. The room gave off a musty smell, but it was the only store where I could afford clothes with my few measly dollars. I selected a pair of off brand Nike shorts and an old metal band T-shirt. The lady who rung me up gave me a weird look, but didn’t say anything. I could only hope that she hadn’t recognized me. She handed me my bag, and I started to walk back to the hotel. Another lady gave me a weird look as she walked, and I decided that I was tired of being paranoid. A convenience store sat on the corner, and the bell dinged loudly when I entered. There were only a few cents left in my pocket, not nearly enough to get what I was wanting. I made my way to the toiletries section, and spotted the hair dye. The black dye seemed to be the easiest to apply, and maybe would alter my appearance just enough that people wouldn’t recognize me upon first glance. My almost empty pocket acted as a barrier in my plan. The man at the front was busy with another customer, so I quickly turned away from him. I squeezed the box into my waistband. The outline of the box was clearly evident beneath my shirt, and I grimaced. The man would see that I was stealing with one glance in my direction. I put my arms in front of me to cover it the best I could. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest, and a bead of sweat had formed on my forehead. The man moved, and I tried my best to appear calm. To my relief, he wasn’t coming in my direction, but instead made his way to the back of the store. Now was my chance. Without being overly obvious, I quickened my pace a bit. I was out the small doors before the man had a chance to turn around. As soon as I was certain that I was out of his eyesight, I took off running.

I squinted hard at the directions. They seemed simple enough. I shook the dye, and applied it to sections of my hair. The goo seemed to cover most of my hair, but there were still some sections that remained untouched. I squeezed the bottle, but it was running out. Barely any of the gooey substance was coming out onto my hands. There wasn’t enough to cover my whole head. I did my best to spread it around all of my hair, but it stayed in clumps on my head. Frustrated, I threw my hands up. This would just have to do. I waited the allotted time on the package, then got in the shower to rinse it off. The hot water made the goo feel even slimier than it already was. The shower curtain stayed closed, because I was afraid to look at myself in the mirror just yet. The water felt soothing against my bruised body, and for the first time in a while, I allowed myself to relax. My meditation lasted only a moment, because my curiosity got the better of me. I shut the water off, closed my eyes, and threw the curtain aside.

“Three, two, one,” I counted down. I opened my eyes. The mirror was fogged up, obstructing my view. I stepped over the side of the tub and grabbed a towel from the closest rack. The mist came off with just a simple touch. A small gasp escaped my lips. My hair was all different shades of brown and black.

“It isn’t even one color!” I cried aloud. I would draw even more attention to myself in public than ever before with my new hair style. A single tear of defeat trickled down my cheek. How could I ever leave the hotel room again? The single tear set off a wave of emotion. I leaned over the sink, the tears now streaming down my face. Mr. Green had escaped me today, and he would escape me tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. Jacob had waited for me for no reason, and in the process, possibly gotten himself into even more trouble. I looked around the small bathroom, my fists balled at my sides. Why had I been given such a gift? I had never used it to help anyone. It had only caused problems for myself and those around me. No victims had ever been saved because of me. Despite my very best efforts, they had all died just the same. The jar for ice sat innocently on the counter, and I angrily chucked it across the room. It banged against the side of the tub and clattered to the floor.

I’m not sure how long I was in the bathroom, consumed by a fit of rage. Eventually, I made my way back into bed, and just laid under the covers, staring miserably up at the ceiling. I might as well of called the police myself, and turned myself in. My parents were probably worried sick about me, and Dr. Draycott would be able to pull a couple strings to get me hospitalized again. I could just play along with their games, and I would be off the hook in a couple months. My hand reached for the phone, but it rang before I could pick it up. My fingers were shaking as I picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Tyler?” I recognized his voice instantly.

“Jacob? How did you know where to find me?”

“I called the hotel kiosk and asked to be connected to your room. I hope that’s okay.” He paused. “Are you okay? What happened this afternoon?” I quickly relayed the details to him.

“What did the police say to you?” I asked. I imagined him shrugging through the telephone.

“They were asking if I was waiting for you. They were being pretty stupid if you ask me. They should have just waited for you to show up.”

“I’m not complaining,” I laughed. I expected Jacob to share my humor, but he didn’t.

“Tyler, this is getting really serious. What are we going to do?” I then told him about my vision with Mr. Parker, and how I was sure that he had killed Mr. Green’s wife.

“Who is Mr. Green?” he asked. I realized that I had left a big part of the story out.

“Mr. Gray. I broke into his room, and found a business card with the name Jeff Green. I looked up the business online, and Mr. Gray was pictured as the owner. He stood with his wife, and when I saw her, I had a vision of Mr. Parker.” I waited for him to respond, but I took his silence for shock. “Jacob?” He cleared his throat.

“We need to figure out why he killed Mr. Gray… I mean Mr. Green’s wife. We could break into his house, I guess.” A pit formed in my stomach.

“I can’t do it anymore.”

“What?” he asked. “Why? We’re so close?” I sighed.

“We’re already in a lot of trouble, and I was foolish to think that I could outsmart a professional killer.”

“Look, we can’t stop now. Another girl will go missing soon, and who is going to help her? The police are completely clueless. It’s up to us.” I hesitated.

“I don’t know.”

“Trust me. We can do this.” I tried my best to share his confidence. “I’m picking you up tonight, and we’re breaking into Justice’s house. The police have left, and it’s no longer a crime scene. Her family hasn’t had the heart to reenter the house either. They are staying in the same hotel as Tabitha’s family.”

“I bet they requested to be on complete opposite floors,” I chuckled. “Their families aren’t the biggest fans of each other.” He gave me a confused look. I realized that I had kept Jacob out of the loop for most of my investigation, and his eagerness to help made me feel just a little bit guilty.

“Ok.” I resolved. “Let’s do this.”