Page 9 of Seth
He hated feeling stupid. He hated when his plans were interrupted or when his prognosis didn’t come true. Unable to understand the situation, he wasn’t sure what to do.
Even if the man never reported, it still doesn’t explain the lack of news.
Shaking his head, he approached the sofa, picked up the remote, and started clicking through the channels again. When the clock on the wall showed four, Seth turned off the TV. He needed food, water, and to use a bathroom, but more than that, he needed a new plan; for that, he had to know what was going on. The formalin solution could preserve Justin’s heart for a long time, but eventually, the color would fade, and he couldn’t allow that.
* * *
Under the blazing sun,the construction site buzzed with life. Machinery pounded, creating mind-shattering noise. Workers barked out orders, and metal screeched against metal. Seth almost tumbled back when a wheelbarrow, full of yellow sand, rushed past him, the wheel missing his shoe by a mere inch.
His thoughts froze, body stiffened. He desperately wanted to retreat from the dusty, loud site, but the deathly craving to see the crime scene urged him forward. Construction workers wore bright vests and safety helmets, but no one paid him attention. No one stopped him or warned him about the absence of a hard hat. The usual commotion reigned in the construction site, everyone rushing around, being industrious, like ants in a disturbed anthill. Everything looked fine. No police, no yellow tape separated the crime scene. Nothing.
Holding his iced coffee in one hand, he passed a pile of concrete blocks before he took a left turn and retreated into the shades of the unfinished building.
His heart palpitated, eyes strained, and all senses became painfully acute. He pressed his palm to the wall as he entered the foyer, where only a few hours ago he’d held Justin’s bleeding body.
This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. I must be dreaming.
A thin layer of dust coated the concrete floor, gray on gray. Not a single red splotch, not a trace of white silica sand. Nothing, as if Seth stepped into another reality where no murder had ever happened.
He squeezed his eyes, then opened them again, wishing for the delusion to disperse and reveal the bloody scene, but in the vastness of the foyer, he stood alone.
Did I imagine it all? Am I going insane? I killed him, didn’t I?
Fighting the wish to call Justin, he glanced down at his hands and clean nails.
I cut his heart out. I’ve stored it in the refrigerator room. Then where is the body? Where is the blood?
“Seth?”
He flinched, spun on his heel. His pulse quickened as he stared into the deep gray eyes of Günter Wagner, the project manager.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Sharp, tiny wrinkles scattered all over the wide face as the man chuckled. “Did you come to check the progress? Stupid me! Why else would you be here? It’s stunning, isn’t it? Is it how you imagined it to be? Only two months left until the launch. I honestly can’t wait.”
Seth nodded, and a blazing smile revealed the row of white, good teeth on the old face.
“Oh, by the way, I am, my friend, very lucky that you stopped by.” The man pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his brown jacket and proffered it to Seth. “We are throwing a pre-launch event for the founders, board members, and press to build excitement about the project. You have to come. There will be a presentation and an interview for Architect Digest.”
Seth scowled. The man sighed.
“I know you hate these events. To be honest, I dislike them too, but I’m afraid you have to attend this time.” The old man slapped his shoulder a couple of times in false compassion. Seth had to muster all his self-control to suppress a shudder. “The invitation is plus one. Bring a pretty lady with you, so it’s not all that boring. Come on, take it.”
Disrespecting Seth’s personal space, Herr4Wagner stepped forward and shoved the envelope in his chest pocket, then quickly retreated.
Every nerve strained in Seth’s body from the casual, unwanted touch. His mind whirled, spinning a very appealing possibility of grabbing a concrete block, pinning the man to the ground, and smashing his filthy hands with it over and over until the bones ground to dust. Instead, he smiled with his lips only.
“Okey-dokey.” The man folded his hands behind his back and looked up at the hole in the ceiling. “I can’t wait to see this building finished. The press too.”
His watery eyes sparkled with maniacal passion. He took a few steps forward, his shoes marring the place where Justin’s head rested on the sand only a few hours ago.
Irritation aggravating, Seth couldn’t help staring at the clean, as if washed out, concrete floor. The paper cup with the iced coffee in his hand creaked beneath his fingers as his grip on it tightened.
“Every time I stand here and look up, I can’t help imagining the grandiose construction of prisms and the specter of lights coming through them. I’ve read and reread your project a million times. People said you are a genius, but I didn’t believe them until I met you.”
Seth didn’t listen. He turned toward the place where the mysterious man had been standing yesterday. The anxiety multiplied as he found nothing, just an even, thin layer of construction dust covering the floor.
He squatted and ran his finger over the concrete. Bringing a finger to his nose, he smelled the dust. A faint, almost nonexistent scent of detergent tickled his senses. So thin, he doubted it was even there.
He took my Justin.The odd thought touched Seth’s mind. His face hardened as his lips stretched in a tight smile.Why?
