The Fledge Effect by R.J. Henry Read Free Book Online

cell. It’s bad enough she has to be in
that damn cage , she thought. She knew it was
probably for the best, but denied it should be
deemed as such.
Calista, by nature, was a sweet girl
growing up. Even God knew she lacked the nurture from her neurotic workaholic parents.
Even then, she was still able to show, and feel, a
sense of lovingness to those who didn’t even deserve it.
Emily was unable to wrap her mind
around Calista as a killer.
“How sure are you that this person is
dead?” She was convinced he was wrong. There
was no doubt that his age could have affected
his ability to tell the living from the dying.
“He didn’t have a pulse when I left. I
don’t know for sure. But I do know he was unresponsive.”
“Hmmm.”
Her accusation became clear to him. In
his experience with her, he understood when
she disbelieved him. He knew she would never
say it aloud. The piercing look she shot at him
said it louder than any set of words she could
string together.
“Look, I know for a fact, that a person is
dead when their heart stops beating. Plain and
simple. No heart equals no life,” he paused, quieting his tone as he continued, “at least, not a
life I would enjoy living.”
“What? You haven’t enjoyed the long
life you were given so far?” She was presumptuous, but needed to know how living a rich life
could be consequential.
In school, she would always borrow
Calista’s good clothes. They were made professionally and not by the hand of an old maid. It’s
not that she was poor, but the fact that the cost
of living outweighed the money spent by her
mother on venues, depleted her chance at ever
wearing anything name brand.
He sighed, hesitant. “Not lately…” He
seemed to of dazed off in a trance. His eyes were
lost in deep thought. She knew this, and kept
her mouth shut for the remainder of the drive
up from Wyllys Avenue, headed North West towards Ridgefield Drive.
•••
Jack rested his chin on the heel of his palm,
pushing aside yet another stack of papers. He
sipped the last drop of his coffee as his eyes began to weigh down. He jumped as Brinks rose
from her chair. Her eyes were bright, and without a single dose of caffeine, she was still able to
appear well kept and wide-awake. He didn’t
know how she did it. Must not have any kids. He chuckled at his own thought.
“I have to make a quick phone call.
Don’t move, and keep working.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, which is it?
Don’t move, or keep working?”
She glared at him with wide eyes.
“Okay,” he breathed, waiting for her to
leave, “Obviously not a single funny bone resides in that woman.”
He tapped the end of blue ink pen on
the wooden surface of her desk. Whistling a
tune, he examined her office. Plaques, awards,
and a few sports trophies covered the entire
back wall behind her desk. Impressive , he
thought, continuing with his gaze towards the
wall next to him.
Above his head was a diploma from one
of the Country’s most prestigious colleges.
“Okay, now she’s just showing off.” A four-digit
year, from when she supposedly graduated,
however, caught him off guard. Where it should
have read: 1988, it read 1898. He shook his
head. “For a high-end, sophisticated school,
they sure don’t know how to proofread.”
Getting bored with her two other bare
walls; he decided to focus on the items upon her
desk. Not much to look at. Just the average pencil sharpener, calendar, and penholder. But,
something new appeared. Left in plain sight. It
seemed to have been accidently forgotten by
Brinks.
Her keys , he thought.
He sidled up around her desk, careful to
watch the door behind him. He ran his fingers
along the edge of the desk, and in a sly motion,
he swept up the keys.
A tiny brass key, significantly different
from the rest, found place between two of his
fingers. He slid it into the keyhole on the locked
drawer. He turned it, and to his amazement, it
unlocked. She wouldn’t normally leave such accessible items