[Owing to what happened yesterday, I don’t think I can be your partner. I’ll still be here, on this case but my role will be like before. As for what had transpired, I won’t tell anyone unless you chose to take more liberties with me or anyone else. Gray Man will know of my decision. Don’t be surprise if he suddenly shows up and decides to solve this thing together with you. Lynn.

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Elijah clicked away the message, smiling sardonically, feeling a weight being lifted off his chest. So, she was going to work in the background again. That suited him fine. But the last sentence of her message was ominous. He better solve the case before Gray decided to step inside Isaiah’s shoes and he would have one more bug to deal with.

Bug.

The black cloth was unveiled and revealed the bright morning sky with its fluffy clouds, languidly drifting along and their shapes forever changing into something else, indecisive about the forms they wanted to take. Elijah stepped out of the Toyota which he had spent the night in and looked up at the sky, squinting his eyes against the stabbing rays. He saw one that seemed shaped like an angel but as it floated past him, it grew horns and from a different angle, Elijah saw a devil.

There were two sides to everyone. A good side and an evil side. Most people were generally all right, stumbling into the limbo. For those who crossed over, it was a ride that would damn their very soul, unless they could pull themselves out of it.

He entered the café and absorbed in the morning crowd. Actually, the café was even emptier than he remembered. The shooting in the car park behind must had frightened regulars away for a while.

The waitress was not to be found. Elijah walked up to the counter where the café’s owner was counting the money in the cash register and mumbling softly to himself.

"Hello."

"Yah?" The owner looked up and when he recognized Elijah, he did a double-take. "You’re the man… with the other guy who got shot! I should have known! You outsiders, always bringing trouble into our peaceful little town… the serial killing must have been started by the likes of you too! What are you doing here? Get out before I call the police." The portly owner cheeks reddened in antagonism and slammed the cash-register drawer shut with one hand, pointing sharply at the door with the other.

"I will just like to know where’s the girl with the sun-bleached brown hair." Elijah patiently requested. The man’s illogical ramblings did not faze him at all. He came here for an answer and he would not leave until he get his answer.

"What girl? Why should I tell you?" The owner snapped and it was then Elijah flashed the FBI card.

"You will tell me."

Somehow, the mark of authority changed the man’s attitude. He scrutinized the card and scowled a little. "You’ll be looking for Alicia Calloway. She called in sick."

"Only today?" Elijah pressed on, not believing in coincidences.

"No. Since the day after the shooting. She was very shaken, poor girl. Never seen violence in her whole life before. Now, can you just leave?" The owner waved Elijah away like a pest. Elijah stood where he was and took out his notepad.

"And you’ll tell me where she stays..." He droned on as he drew the pen out from the pen clasp on top of the notepad.

***

Alicia Calloway stayed in a rundown apartment, just two streets away from where Mrs. Sanders resided in. It seemed to Elijah that the first frays of the languorous town were all clustered together; their tattering pulling the rest of the town slowly, insidiously to unravel the rest of the fading garment into nothingness.

Elijah pondered over the eventuality that she might have split. A day in between investigations and the shooting presented more than enough time for her to leave- maybe not out of America, unless she had a comprehensive escape route- but definitely out of Eaeshore.

After knocking on her door for a prolonged period, Elijah was beginning to sense that something was amiss. He pressed his ear to the door and heard no sound, only the hollow echoes of air. Taking out his mobile, he dialed for Jacob Stern.

"Yes?" The veteran police detective picked up his call on the second ring of which Elijah was rather thankful for.

"I want your man to keep a look-out for a girl called Alicia Calloway, about 5 feet 9, brown eyes, brown hair with bleached highlights and freckles across her cheeks. I know it’s not much to go on but I suspect that she may be involved in the killings." Elijah went right to the point and was about to disconnect when Stern managed to squeeze in a question in the terse exchange.

"Alicia Calloway? The sweet young thing who works in the café down by Stilt Road? And is that you Elijah?"

"Yes to both."

"Why Alicia? Ok… you must have your reasons. Sorry about your brother… he ok now?" Stern’s voice was all baffled asking about the suspect before it was dressed up with the annoying sympathy and concern. Elijah scorned at Stern inwardly but stopped, recognizing that he was deriding himself. Besides, he had been co-operative, not asking him more about the Alicia than he would want him to at this point in time.

"Hmm…" He clicked the connection off before Stern could waste another second on needless consolations. Focusing on the door in front of him, he set to work again- picking the lock.

As usual, the lock-picking was easy. The difficult part was conceptualizing what one would find inside. Elijah did not know Alicia well and thus, he had no pre-determined notion of what he would discover. However, in the few seconds that he entered her room, he was assured that she had not skipped town for her wardrobe was opened and brimming over with clothes.

She lived in a small apartment that had no rooms, only an empty space for the resident’s imagination to utilize. Her freshly made single-bed was covered over by a flowery bedspread and an empty photo-frame had toppled over the night-table- its back cover detached from its main body.

He approached the bathroom, stopping by the small folding table which doubled up as a study and dining table from the self-help books, mostly on beauty and personal grooming, and half-eaten plate of croissant he observed on it. He touched the coffee cup just next to the plate and smiled grimly- it was still warm. Drawing out his gun, he cautiously entered the toilet, a miserable lot too small for anyone over 200 pounds. Pulling the shower curtains aside, his adrenaline was let down by the sight of a empty space and blank grey tiles.

When he returned to the living space, a slight gust of wind blew and he walked against the zephyr and drew the full-length curtains apart to reveal a row of windows, on of it fully opened. There was a small balcony beneath the half-length windows; leading to the fire ladder. Since the ladder was released, he knew her means of escape.

Climbing out of the window and racing down the fire escape, he exited the apartment and onto the streets in no time at all. Turning left and right, he saw nothing but deserted streets. An old couple was sitting down on a bench to his left, underneath a bulb-less streetlamp. A yellow paper bag danced in the breeze in front of him and fallen brown leaves rustled along the side of the dusty roads.

Elijah had the sudden sensation of being in a ghost town- empty and prohibiting. The apparitions of the victims floated with the waft and he could literally smell the destitution, further cursed by them. The killer was out there and the person who could lead him to crack the case, so he could leave this pitiful, isolated town, slipped out of his grasp so easily.

Clenching his fists, he turned and hurried for his car. Alicia Calloway- she was the odd one out. In all their investigation, they had never chance her name or her face. To them, she was the harmless, feather-brained waitress with the same, impractical dreams of making it big as an actress.

But she had bested the both of them. She had bested Elijah.