You've Been Warned

After lingering in the tub until I’m “Wrinkled Prune,” I towel off, climb into my comfy terry cloth robe, and force myself to dial up some Chinese—sesame chicken and vegetable fried rice, my standard order. No MSG, please. I am trying my very best to have a normal night at home, which is ridiculous, I know, but it’s the only idea I have at the moment.

On a full stomach, after the day I’ve had, I should be dead tired. Instead, I’m wide-awake. Restless. Wired.

I try not to think of the one-eyed man on the corner—How did he know my name?—but if it’s not his face I’m seeing in my mind, it’s another’s. Dakota’s.

“Miss Kristin?”

Her sweet voice echoing in my ears, I remember that I’ve got an entire roll of her and Sean in my camera, the two of them swimming and playing by the pool.

At last, something that might put me at ease.

My darkroom.

I literally roll up the sleeves of my robe and get busy. Almost immediately, I can feel my mind and body relaxing. I even crack a smile as I think of a great name for an exhibit. “Stakeout.” It would be strictly pictures I’ve taken while parked somewhere, hiding.

No, wait, I’ve got an even better name. “Bob and Me.”

This is more like it. Moving the negatives to the holding bath, I catch a glimpse of the first few shots from the roll.

“Oh, how cute!”

I actually say the words out loud. My two favorite kids in the world, splashing around and having so much fun. Even in the negative I can see their beautiful smiles.

It’s a little weird, though. I always make a point of showing Dakota and Sean every picture I take of them. But these they’ll never see.

Eventually, I get to the shot I snapped with Penley in it. So typical, her pointing and barking orders at the kids. She looks more like a warden than a mom.

I’m about to shift to the next picture when something makes me do a double take, and my stomach just about drops to the basement of the building. I grab the magnifying loupe, pulling the image of Penley right up to my face.

I stare in amazement.

Utter. Freakin’. Amazement.

Chapter 44

I QUICKLY CHECK the previous shots, the ones of only Dakota and Sean. Is it happening with them too?

No. No, it isn’t.

Everything looks fine. Better than fine, in fact.

I grab the shot of Penley again, staring, squinting hard, running my finger over it. The negative seems fine to me.

Her image, though. Not fine. Not good. Not possible.

It’s that same effect as with the body bags outside the Fálcon, subtle yet definitely there. Or, should I say, not there.

Transparent. Like I can see through her. Like she’s there but isn’t.

Penley’s thin, but she’s not that thin! How is this happening again? Why?

I flip on the light, spinning around to face the black corkboard behind me. The other shots, my father—I never checked to see if the effect was happening with the photos of him. Did I just not notice?

My eyes race along every picture pinned to the wall, and not a single one has the effect. No problem with these shots—just a man who’s been dead for twelve years!

So it isn’t the lens after all. The new one did the same thing the old one did. Must be the camera, then. At least I hope it’s the camera.

I remember a business card that Javier at Gotham Photo once gave me. On the back he wrote his cell phone number. I think maybe he was fishing for a date. Nonetheless, he said I should call him anytime I have a problem with my pictures.

I think this qualifies.

The only question now is where I put that card. I start with my wallet, shuffling through ATM receipts, my AmEx, Visa, Discover, driver’s license, a frequent-coffee-drinker card from the Java Joint.

Javier’s card isn’t there.

I check all the drawers in my bedroom, including the one in my nightstand. It’s amazing how much junk I accumulate. Do I really have to take a book of matches from every restaurant I eat in, for God’s sake?

C’mon, Javier’s card, where are you?

I try to think back to when he handed it to me. When was it, what time of year?

Winter, I decide.

Maybe it’s still in a coat. In fact, I’m pretty sure I know which one. A shearling I splurged on—a beautiful “just gotta have it” that I saw in the window at Saks. I ate a lot of tuna fish sandwiches for dinner that month, as I recall.

I also recall Javier complimenting me on it... when he handed me his card.

I’m pretty impressed with my memory as I head for the hall closet. Maybe I’m not completely losing it.

With any luck, I’ll reach Javier and we can meet. I’ll show him the pictures, he’ll study my camera, and he’ll tell me what’s wrong. Simple as that. Mystery solved.

First things first, though—that card of his.

I open the closet door.