Available Darkness Season 1

things, but even as she tried to speak, something in her brain spoke, calming her down.
    Everything’s okay. Don’t worry. You are safe. This man is who he says, Michael Turner, a private investigator. Everything will be fine. Just do what he says. Everything will be fine.
    The thoughts were odd, as if someone else were speaking them into her head, but using her inner voice.
    The man took a small step back and slipped his wallet inside his coat. His face was gaunt, and his azure eyes seemed trustworthy, though slightly exhausted. “I’m just here to ask you some questions.”
    “About what?” Hope said, feeling silly for holding the shoe at her side, but not silly enough to put it down.
    “Can we go downstairs?”
    The man backed out of the bedroom and approached the stairway. Hope tossed the shoe in the closet and followed.
    Downstairs, the man turned and looked Hope in the eye. “How well did you know Rebecca Ashby?”
    “Not at all,” Hope said, glancing outside at a sudden ugly darkness that turned the bright blue of morning to nearly black as night. “I’d seen her around from time to time, but not enough that she stuck out or anything.”
    “Where and when did you last see her?”
    “I can’t remember,” Hope said, “maybe a week ago at the pub down the street, Lucky Pete’s Ale House.”
    Hope glanced out the window again, “Is there a storm coming?”
    “I think so,” he said, “Or maybe an eclipse. Was she with anyone, do you recall?”
    Hope thought for a moment, “I really can’t remember. To be honest, I’m not even sure if it was Rebecca, like I said, I don’t really know her, so she didn’t stick out, really. I’m pretty sure it was her, but can’t remember much about the night.” Hope shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” the detective said, his eyes on his notepad as he scribbled the details. “Does anyone else live here with you, someone else I might be able to talk to? A lot of times it’s the little things people think mean nothing which wind up helping us the most.”
    Hope felt a tickle down her spine. She shouldn’t admit to being alone. “My boyfriend, John. He should be back any minute now.”
    She regretted saying it before the words had even finished coming from her lips. Now, the guy might want to stick around. How would she get rid of him then?
    “Does John know Ms. Ashby?”
    “No, neither of us know her,”
    “You said you expect John back soon?” the man asked.
    Hope didn’t care for the smile she might have imagined.
    Relax, you can trust him. He is who he says he is. Just trust him. Maybe invite him to stay and wait for John.
    She shook the thoughts from her mind. No, I should NOT invite him to stay. That’s the worst idea ever. He shouldn’t even be in my house!
    “Yes, though to be honest, I need to get ready for work. Do you have a card? I can have him give you a call?”
    “Um, sure,” the man said, fishing into a coat pocket and handing her a crisp new card which read “Michael Turner : Private Investigator” with a PO Box listed in Hialeah and a 305 area code.
    “Your office is far away, eh?” Hope asked.
    “Yes, but I work the whole east coast, and I’ll be in town for a while. That’s my cell. Have John give me a call anytime, day or night.”
    “Okay,” Hope said, walking him to the door, “Good luck.”
    “Thank you,” the man said as he walked down the sidewalk to the white picket fence where for the first time, Hope noticed he wasn’t alone. A tall black man in a dark suit was standing at the end of the walk holding open the door of a black van with pitch black windows. The private eye waved at Hope as he stepped into the back of the van. The other man glanced at Hope, and for the slightest of moments, she’d have sworn he had no pupils. His eyes looked like two marbles of pure snow. He nodded at her, then went around the van, got into the driver’s seat and drove away.
    Hope found it odd that a detective would have his own driver. Even odder was the morning light returning its full rays, as if a curtain had been ripped from a window the second the van turned the corner. Odder still, she noticed for the first time, there didn’t seem to be a single cloud in the sky.

    * * * *

    John

    “I think it’s starting again,” John said to Larry. “I think I’m starting to turn back.”
    “What do you mean? He said it would work.”
    “No, he said it might work, but there’s no way he could be