Letting Go (Chapter-32)

Edmond

Edmond took a second look when he saw her exiting the LA Daily Headquarters, carrying a medium sized brown box against her chest. The resemblance petrified him; the blonde hair, small framed body in a tight black dress, and sharp-heeled red shoes made Edmond think it was his mother walking across the parking lot. But it couldn’t have been her; his mother wouldn’t have carried her own load of junk. She would have had a someone else, Edmond thought to himself, a man trailing behind her holding the box slightly to the side so he could get a good look at her ass.

Edmond had parked in the middle of the lot. Parking too close would have been foolish, but parking too far away would have been equally as suspicious. He attempted to peer at her through his own windows and the tinted ones of the white Mazda beside him, but all he could make out was the woman’s outline as she neared her car.

“Is that her?” Edmond said to himself, “I need to get closer.”

Edmond watched as the woman closed her car door and walked back to the building. The moment she was inside, he turned on the car. Not too close, Edmond thought, but just close enough… When he was close enough to her vehicle, he quickly pulled the scrap of paper he had been using that day, and below the words Agent Keene, Funeral-Sat, he wrote black Honda civic, plate # E46-L97K.

“Damn!!” He said out loud, suddenly noticing a uniformed man had appeared several feet in front of his car. The man was tall and seemed fairly young, maybe in his late twenties, but walked with a strong sense of conviction as he approached Edmond’s window. It’s fine, Edmond thought as he took several deep breaths and shoved the small piece of paper into his pocket. He rolled down his window and put on a calm smile.

“Hello, sir.” Edmond glanced at the young man’s belt and, seeing no gun, relaxed slightly. Just a security guard, he thought.

“Good afternoon,” the man was pale, definitely no older than 25, with short blonde hair, “Do you work in this building, sir?”

Edmond turned to look at the building, then back at the guard, “Oh no, I’m actually - I have an appointment at the, uh, Medical Center around here? Sorry, I forget which one--”

“Are you meaning St. Joseph’s?” The guard leaned in slightly, and Edmond could tell he was scanning the inside of his car.

“Yes! Yes, that’s the one. St. Joseph’s. Is that located near this facility? I’ve been driving in circles.”

“Do you have a smartphone? With a GPS?”

Edmond felt uneasy, at the young man’s inquiring tone. He shrugged his shoulders and took an audible, deep breath.

“My kids keep telling me it’s time to get one - that I’ll stop getting lost if I did. But I just can’t get myself to take the leap,” he felt a wave of relief when the officer smiled back at him.

“Well, you aren’t too far. Go left out of the lot, down about three blocks, then take a right on Providence Rd. It will be the second building on your left.”

“Great,” Edmond smiled back at the man with a nod, “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir. Have a good day,” the man stepped back, allowing Edmond to drive slowly passed him.

As Edmond neared the exit, he could see the woman walk out of the building and to her car again, this time carrying a small bag and holding her cell phone firmly against her ear. Edmond looked closer into the rearview mirror and knew, without a doubt, that it was Serena Moore. She looks just like the pictures, he thought, But she’s become such a... woman. Edmond let his mind wander as he watched Serena sit in her car and talk into her cellphone, feeling his pulse accelerate slightly. It won’t be a drug - no. I want her to feel it. I want to burn her alive.

But now, he thought with a grin, now I let her go.

Edmond drove out of the parking lot, turned left onto Renwald Street, and coasted down the road for 20 minutes before turning left onto Reseda, then right into the parking lot of the Northridge Library. He sat near the back, as usual, and pulled out the slip of paper from his pocket.

“Patrick Tryniski,” he whispered to himself as he typed the words into the search bar, “Patrick Tryniski, Los Angeles.”

It took Edmond less than ten minutes to find out everything he needed to know about Patrick. He was a graduate from the University of Southern California, and worked as an administrative assistant with Century 21 Peak Real Estate agency, located only minutes from where Edmond was sitting. But what Edmond was most grateful for was Facebook. Although he had no access to Patrick’s private profile, any photographs posted online were available through a Google search. It took less than three minutes for Edmond to find a picture of Patrick, standing beside a young, blonde woman. Is that -- Serena? Edmond thought, narrowing his eyes, No… no. But there’s a resemblance...

It was in that moment that Edmond realized who it was. Holy shit, he double clicked on the image, that must be the other one - the sister. He leaned in closer to the screen, vaguely recalling what the sister had looked like years ago at the amusement park. I was too focused on Serena to notice… Edmond thought as he stared at the picture of Jilliana. She was standing beside Patrick, dressed in short jean shorts and tight black tank top with red lettering. Her hair fell effortlessly passed her shoulders in perfect, blonde curls. “My God”, Edmond said under his breath. He zoomed in slightly to enlarge the words on her shirt. HQ Gastropub, he thought as he read, where is that?

He glanced at the time. “Damn it,” he said in a whisper, I’ve been here for over an hour. Edmond gathered the three slips of paper that he had written on, cleared the search history, and walked briskly and quietly out of the library’s doors.

When Edmond was back in his car, with his hands gripping several new scraps of paper covered in writing, he leaned heavily against the driver’s seat and closed his eyes. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind. It was already complicated, he thought, when there was just one. He opened his eyes and looked down at the papers. But now… now there’s one I want to kill and one… he closed his eyes again, visualizing Jilliana’s voluptuous body pressing against his, one I want to have.

He shook his head vigorously, shoved the key into the ignition, slammed his hands on the steering wheel and cursed sharply under his breath, “Fuck.”