Love, Vance Cole

One

11th December



The ship was bustling with travelers who were getting down to the harbor, some holding their luggage on their heads, others pulling it behind them, the wheels scrolling along the snow-filled wooden pier. Keith adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and stepped down, the heel of his boots clicking with the floor. He hadn’t slept well, and his head was exploding after the tiresome journey from Ataraxia back to Ardor. The smell of the beach waves wasn’t adding on to anything but the nauseating feeling. The only thing he was thankful for was that he’d reached early morning. He didn’t get along well with nights, so he often tried to fill in the sleep requirement during the daytime. Catching a cab, he stopped in front of a grocery store, buying some fruits and vegetables and some other necessary stuff. After fifteen minutes, the cab stopped just under his building. He walked inside, pressing the 9th floor on the elevator. With a soft knock on Apartment 901, he was welcomed by an old woman’s warm smile. 

“Good day.” 

He entered with a smile. The old woman had shifted here last month, and Keith had noticed her struggling with throwing out the garbage and buying groceries, so he’d followed her to check. Only to find out she’d moved here after the death of her son, trying to keep up with life somehow.

“Where were you for the past three days? I tried the bell in your apartment, none would open.”

Only a few of her teeth were still intact in her mouth, all others either went missing or were on the verge of falling out.

“I was out of the city for some work. I saved my contact details on your phone, you can call anytime.”

“I will, next time.”

She baked the cookies and brewed up some coffee, which they enjoyed out on the balcony. Keith sipped it all in one go, thanking her afterward and leaving with a polite smile.

Stepping in the elevator, he pressed the 20th floor. The one far away from the city noise. He clicked the door of Room 20-06 open, changed into his casual pajamas and a black t-shirt, and slipped under the blanket. A few minutes in, and he was snoring heavily.

The mountains had their peaks covered in snow; the darkness spreading evenly across the sky. Keith had followed his father out, wanting to talk to him about his watch that he had mistakenly broken. But he’d seen his father staggering his way towards a person and pulling out a knife, a sharply pointed knife, and that man, that innocent man, had been begging for his life. 

The stinging sound of the phone call penetrated his ears, setting him free of the nightmare. The one he occasionally had once every three days, the one he’s been having for the past ten years. Covered in sweat, he pulled himself up, pressing the phone against his ear.

“Mr. Walter, how’s it going?”

He spoke.

“Can you come up? I’ve got something you’d like to see.”

Mr. Walter’s thick voice responded.

***

He clicked the door open to find Mr. Walter sitting on the same old wooden chair he’d been looking at for the last 10 years. His office was just a few floors above Keith’s house, on the 26th floor. Keith stepped closer, taking a quick survey of the room. Dusty bookshelves, a stack of files on his table, leftover delivered food, and Mr. Walter’s marble tea set. 

He gestured Keith to sit beside him, handing him the warm marble cup of coffee, a hazy white cloud of steam evaporating above it. Carefully, he sipped it up, the sweetness of the freshly brewed coffee powder relaxing his mind. He needed Mr. Walter’s coffee after those dreams. It worked like medicine. Calming the storm inside him.

The window was sealed shut, but the weather was freezing enough to turn the coffee cold in a minute.

“Looks like your trip to Ataraxia didn’t do much for your peace this time too.”

Mr. Walter spoke, his voice thick and heavy.

“Nothing does. What is it that you wanted me to see?”

Keith carefully placed the empty cup back at the table, his bright blue eyes now taking a glimpse of Mr. Walter’s face covered in wrinkles. Mr. Walter was going through a stack of newspapers when he pulled out one, passing it on to him

“Since you weren’t in the city, you don’t know about the kidnappings in Caligo, I suppose?” 

Mr. Walter knew him well. Since the past month, he’d cut himself off of any worldly news, especially the ones of crime. He read the headline on the cover of the newspaper.

Six missing in Caligo: Investigators still trying to figure out who Vance Cole is.

Vance Cole. Reading that name, Keith felt as if he’d gone back to his thirteen-year-old self, the one who knew Vance Cole very well. The one who’d seen him through and through. He wished it wasn’t the same Vance Cole. He hoped it was just the same name and that’s it. Composing himself in a minute, he spoke.

“What did they find?-”

“You’re not surprised?”

Mr. Walter almost cut him off and spoke.

“With what?”

“With the name.”

“The world’s a big place, Mr. Walter. I’m sure it’s just the name that’s the same.”

“I hope so too.” His eyes were fixed on Keith’s as if he’d been hoping to catch a clue, any hint of truth. “Anyway, the investigator working on the case in Caligo is on his way here.”

“Why here?”

“Because Vance Cole has appeared in Ardor. Last night, Daniel, 7, went missing.”

Keith didn’t like Mr. Walter emphasizing the kidnapper’s name, but he silently kept listening as he briefed him on the incident that took place last night. 

“This is what he left.”

Mr. Walter handed him an envelope, white in color and the flap having a seal that had been opened. Probably by Mr. Walter. He slid his finger through the text written in black ink as he read.

Thank you.

Love, 

Vance Cole.

A smirk slipped across Keith’s face. If it wasn’t for the name, he’d be having a lot of fun with this case. He still felt intrigued.

“Interesting.”

He spoke.

“Not so much for Daniel’s mother.”

Mr. Walter shrugged to which Keith nodded, still silently glaring at the envelope. Scanning it from front and behind, looking for a hint. A mistake the culprit might have made.

None.

“The investigator from Caligo is here.” 

Mr. Walter stood up. The chair creaked as it had been repressed under his weight. He held his walking cane, supporting himself on his single leg while the amputated stayed still, wrapped with bandages. 

Keith normally doesn’t have such bad mornings, but as the door creaked open, and his glance fell on the man’s face who was now walking in, Keith couldn’t help but stare, his eyebrows creased.

The same golden hair, but longer, and tied in a tiny ponytail. The same green eyes, but without the shine they once carried. Keith noticed he was as disappointed as him to meet again. He had a sudden frown and droopy eyes.

“Meet Detective Lucas Alfred. He’s the one working on the Vance Cole case in Caligo.” 

Mr. Walter now limped back to the chair. 

There was the silent stare that followed. For a minute or two.

Who would blink first?

That’s what Lucas had been thinking if he was the same old 13-year-old boy Keith had met back then. 

After not blinking for more than two minutes, Keith turned his glance away. Lucas gave in right after.

He’s still the same.

Keith thought. And that wasn’t good.

“Mr. Lucas, Keith Joaquin.” Mr. Walter gestured, smiling as he introduced Keith. 

Keith noticed the raised brow, and a wide grin on Lucas’s face as he heard the name. 

“New city, new name. Not bad.”

Lucas shook hands, holding it for longer than usual, his eyes now staring down at Keith’s soul. Or so he felt.

***