Tabula Rasa: Chapter 6
* I do not own the BT series characters. They belong to a much-more talented individual. I am however, more than willing to take credit for characters/scenarios not featured in the books or television series. Not making any money. No copyright infringement intended*
By the time Mike and Coreen arrived at the condo, Vicki had managed to calm Henry down and prevented him from doing any further harm to either of them. He listened quietly while she recounted how they had first met, their history up to that point, and most importantly, who and what he was. She even laid out her theory as to who had caused him to lose his memories, and reassured him that the guilty party would be brought to justice; never mind that her definition of said justice differed markedly from what constituted as legal, but Henry didn’t question her on this point.
He seemed to take all of this information in stride, and had regained his composure long enough to allow her to help him into an armchair. He still refused to make eye contact, but Vicki figured that that was the least of their respective troubles.
A tentative knock sounded from the front door. “Hello? Vicki?” Coreen’s voice sounded small and meek, as if she were almost afraid that she would further disturb the neighbors. Vicki had given her and Mike limited information on what had happened, and hinted only that it was an emergency, and that it would be in everyone’s best interest if they kept quiet about it. Vicki strode across the room, and as her hand turned the knob, the door practically flew open with a loud bang.
So much for keeping all this under wraps, Vicki muttered silently, and motioned them inside. Mike swept briskly into the room and almost swept Coreen completely aside as his eyes took in the scene, all of his training skills hard at work. He immediately took in the blood-soaked hand towel wrapped around Vicki’s wrist, and then his gaze flicked to the ruffled floor rug and upended table. Vicki could almost hear the wheels in his head turning as he put two and two together, and before she could intervene, he made a beeline for Henry.
This can’t be good.
“Fitzroy!” Mike’s hands attempted to wrap themselves around Henry’s collar, and his eyes blazed in their sockets. High spots of color burned in his cheeks, and he was breathing so hard, Vicki was sure that he would hyperventilate. Henry stood up in one fluid motion but he made no attempt to intervene. He stared past the hulking mass of the detective’s shoulders over at Vicki, held up his hands in surrender, and seemed to be waiting for instructions on how to handle the situation. Now what? His entire demeanor indicated. Startled, Mike froze in his tracks.
“What the hell is going on here?” He stared back and forth between Henry and Vicki looking for some sort of confirmation. Coreen appeared equally nonplussed.
Vicki shrugged her stiff and tired shoulders. “My sentiments exactly.”
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“So you’re saying that Fitzroy’s memories were wiped by some gal gone all Fatal Attraction on him, but you don’t know how exactly, or who said gal is.” Mike massaged his throbbing temples and attempted to make sense of what was happening, which was damned-near impossible, given the present company.
“You’ve said that more than once.” Henry appeared equally frustrated and crossed his arms over his chest.
Mike shot him a dirty look. “Too bad he didn’t forget how to talk,” he muttered, but closed his mouth with an audible snap when Vicki fixed him with a basilisk glare.
“Essentially,” Vicki agreed. “But as for the Fatal Attraction m.o., that’s pure speculation. I was just theorizing that given Henry’s past history with women, not to mention a few bad breakups, that this was as good an explanation as any other. Besides,” she said shifting her weight on the couch, “from what I saw of her, she appears highly unstable. I mean, who else could crush a compact with their bare hands?”
All eyes shifted towards Henry. Vicki frowned. “I meant besides Henry?” she amended. No one had an answer for that.
“You know what I think?” Mike sat forward and steepled his hands. They had been sitting there for hours mulling over the possible who’s and what’s of the situation, speculating and arguing amongst themselves, when there were decidedly more proactive steps they could have been taken to get to the bottom of it all. It amazed-and troubled-Mike that Vicki hadn’t come to this same conclusion earlier.
He glanced over at Henry, who sat there staring at the world around him as if he had no idea of where or how he fit into the larger picture, and Mike felt a slight twinge of sympathy. He couldn’t explain why he cared so much about helping out a guy he didn’t even like, but it was obvious from the way that Vicki kept looking over at Henry all night, that she cared for him. As far as Mike was concerned, that was a valid enough reason for him to be emotionally involved.
“I think,” he continued, “that while you were off playing Dr. Phil trying to figure out the culprit’s m.o., it would have been more practical to find out who she is.”
Vicki’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and she sprang to her feet. “What the hell do you think we’ve been doing for the past,” she paused and dramatically checked her watch, “four hours? Discussing who’s gonna be the next American Idol?”
“You actually watch that garbage? No wonder you’re not thinking clearly,” Mike deadpanned, hoping that a little humor would help soothe her jangled nerves. It had the completely opposite effect. Well, you live, you learn.
“You mean Dr. Freud, asshole; Dr. Phil is a hack.”
Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. Whatever. My point is that someone had to have seen something. I mean the girl just didn’t teleport over here……” His brow furrowed as he realized that anyone capable of stealing a person’s memories would have no trouble doing just that. “She didn’t, did she?”
Vicki snorted derisively. “Did you forget the part where I said I chased her into the elevator, and beat the doors all to hell trying to get at her? Seems to me that if she was capable of teleporting elsewhere, that that would have been the most convenient time to do it.”
“Granted,” Mike continued. “Alright, so we know that she didn’t teleport here per se, so what does that mean? It means that she had to enter the building just like anyone else, and that would mean having to go through security.” He paused, thinking that the doorman-Greg, was it?-hardly constituted as dependable security, but the guy had managed to hold onto his job for some time, so maybe that was beside the point.
Vicki’s eyes lit up. “That means there would be witnesses who may have seen her come in the front door, not to mention the security monitors all over this place that must have tracked her all the way up to this floor…..”
Mike smiled. “Now you’re talking.”
Vicki sprang to her feet, but paused midway out the door. “It’s almost sunrise, and this place isn’t safe for Henry anymore…….”
Mike was already one step ahead of her. “Coreen and I will take him back to your office and light-proof the bedroom for him while you stay here and do what you do best.”
Vicki smiled gratefully at Mike and Coreen. “Thank you.” And to Henry: “You can trust them. I do.”
Mike sighed heavily as he watched her disappear down the hallway and board the elevator to the lobby. Turning his attention back to the room and its two occupants, he was surprised to see Henry staring at him with a look of….. Actually, Mike’s tired brain couldn’t come up with enough adjectives, so he settled on sorrow, which was a tad unsettling to say the least.
Mike busied himself by gathering up the folded blackout curtain that Coreen had already lain out on the couch together with a few articles of clothing, and began stuffing them into a duffel bag. Henry continued to stare at Mike, and finally ventured a remark.
“You and Vicki…are you involved, or something?”
Mike laughed harshly. “Well, that depends on what you mean by ‘involved.’”
At Henry’s blank expression, Mike sighed again and ran a hand up through his hair. “If you’re asking me whether we’re together, then no.” He zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder just as Coreen entered the room. “We’re just good friends.”
“Oh.” Mike didn’t think it was humanly possible that so much elated subtext could be applied to any one word, but since this was Henry they were talking about, he wasn’t all that surprised. The vampire was positively beaming, and was gazing dreamily into open space in a way that bordered on puppy love of the most nauseating variety.
“Oh, give me a break,” Mike muttered.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing!” He snapped and headed out the door.
Henry scoffed. “You’re a strange man, detective.”
“Yeah, well it takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” Mike yelled over his shoulder, as Coreen and Henry hurried to catch up with him.