Chapter 5 #2
“Sure do.” As he leans over to hand me a bottle of water he retrieved from the fridge, two more people emerge from another hall.
A petite redhead with the curves of a pin-up is guiding a man who looks comically large behind her.
I avert my gaze quickly so I don’t get caught staring, but he is definitely double take worthy.
I’m a sucker for a big man—not the kind of guy who looks like he spends his life in the gym, but the kind of man who looks like he wouldn’t have any problem hefting me around when the time is right.
The thought feels more foreign than any other I’ve had today.
I haven’t thought of a man’s large build being attractive in a long time.
Now when I see a big man, I tend to think about how easy it would be for him to overpower me, and not in a good way.
I open my water and take a sip as they walk toward us. “Harlyn, this is my assistant, Michele. She’s the person you’ve been conversing with.” Macey smiles at me as the pretty as a picture Michele does a cute little head tilt and wave toward me.
I return her smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“This is Special Agent Landry from the FBI. He’s a criminal profiler we have the honor of working with this week. Special Agent Landry, this is Harlyn Wade. Her twin sister’s murder is the focus of today’s show.”
My gut twists at the causal mention of my sister’s death during the introduction. A small part of me wonders if that is all I will ever be—the twin of a dead girl. “Hi.” My tone comes off a little clipped when I extend my hand toward the agent.
“Nice to meet you, Harlyn.” The slight emphasis he puts on my name while gripping my hand for a heartbeat feels intentional, as if he’s acknowledging me more than why I’m here, or I could just be projecting.
I steal a quick peek at his features, noting his cornflower blue eyes and light hair.
It’s not hard to imagine him with a weapon, but the first thing that comes to mind isn’t a gun, it’s a war hammer, proving my affection for old superhero movies is still alive, even if it’s been a while since I watched one.
“Do you need anything else before we get started?” Liam chimes in merrily.
“Bathroom?” Macey adds.
I almost say I’m fine, but I think I’d rather try now than interrupt in a half hour when the water I just downed half of demands my attention. “Maybe I should.”
“Great, we can always take a break, but I find it can disrupt the flow. It’s right down the hall.” Macey points to the hall Michele and Special Agent Landry came from.
“Pardon me.” I duck my head and angle through the group to disappear down the hall. The back of my neck tingles, as if I can feel their eyes on me, but I ignore the unpleasant feeling pushing me to move fast and keep my pace steady.
After using the bathroom and washing my hands, I look at myself in the mirror over the single commercial sink.
I thought there would be some evidence of my nerves on my face, at least some blotchiness over my cheeks, but the only sign I’m uncomfortable is my eyes.
They look too wide and a little wild. I practice some deep breaths, hoping I can get through this without crying or, at the very least, not weeping, but I’m not very confident I’ll be successful.
It’s so very vain of me, but part of me wishes Special Agent Landry wasn’t here, even when I know what a great resource he is.
After thirty seconds of hopelessly staring at myself, I finally toss the paper towels I was wringing in my hands in the trash and head out to meet the others.
The quiet drone of conversation all but dies when I emerge from the hall.
I might be overthinking it, but it feels like they were talking about me.
“All set?” Liam asks with just enough enthusiasm to confirm my suspicions.
“Yeah,” I agree, wishing I would have done a better check of my clothes before leaving the bathroom. I feel like I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe or something.
“Great. Michele will go over a few things with you while we set up to record. Special Agent Landry, you can come with us and get comfortable since you already know the drill,” Macey announces. I’m a little more than relieved when the three of them walk back toward the hallway.
Michele moves in a little closer. Her expression is soft—not really a smile, but still kind. “Don’t be nervous,” she urges, proving I’m not very good at hiding my emotions.
“If only it were that easy,” I mutter softly.
“I know it’s easy for me to say, but you’ll see soon. Macey is just going to ask you some questions, so we can help give you and your sister a voice.”
She makes it sounds simple, but nothing about this is simple. Instead of telling her something she could never understand, I ask a question that’s been on my mind since entering the office. “Do they record the shows?”
Her eyebrows lift in what I can only assume is surprise. “Yeah, everything in the studio is recorded. The consent form you signed went over all that.”
“I just thought that was for audio. I didn’t know it was video too.”
Michele scrunches up her nose, and lines furrow her brow. “Are you wanting to back out? Macey already prerecorded a lot of the case details.” Her voice is soft, as if she doesn’t want to be overheard. When she darts her eyes toward the hall where the others disappeared, I’m even more certain.
“I’ve never seen the shows posted on social media or anything…” The skepticism is clear in my tone. I would have watched them if they were available, not just to prepare for this, but because true crime has dominated my life for over a year.
“The Unexplained Cases channel is currently only for our subscribers.”
“Oh.” That makes me feel better for some reason. A lot less people will be looking at me.
“Our wide launch is next month,” Michele finishes. All the relief I felt evaporates with her revelation. “Are you backing out?” she whispers hesitantly.
I take a deep breath then reply, “No.”
Michele’s shoulders sag, and she grabs my hand.
“Thank God. Macey would have killed me. It will be very tasteful, I promise,” she adds hastily, as if that was her true concern, but now I know she was worried about her own skin.
After a brief squeeze of my fingers, she releases my hand and invites me to have a seat in one of the chairs with a wave of her arm.
“Sorry that came as a surprise for you,” is the first thing Michele says after joining me to sit at the table.
“I suppose I should have done a better job of reading the fine print.” I try to make light of the uncomfortable situation with a placating smile.
“No disrespect to you—I will make sure to be clearer in the future—but you really should read all the fine print.” Her eyes widen for emphasis. “There are a lot of other shows and hosts out there who will exploit you if you aren’t careful.”
I nod in agreement, but my mind goes back to the same thought. We’re all using each other for one reason or another.
“Alright, let’s get started with how things will go today,” she chirps, swiftly changing her demeanor and the subject.
“Once we get inside the studio, they will already be set up to begin recording. Macey may or may not go through a quick introduction and recap of your sister’s case.
Are you okay with hearing those details?
Because we can edit that in if we need to at a later date.
” Her eyes are locked on mine, and surprisingly, I don’t feel like she would frown on me for telling her I don’t want to hear it.
“No, I mean, yeah. I’m okay listening to a recap.”
“Okay. If, at any point, it gets to be too much, just let her know you need a break. No judgment. We understand this is hard.”
She’s saying all the right things, but deep down, I know there is no way she could understand how I feel about anything.
I just nod again. Listening to her talk about what happened to Hayzel can’t be any worse than finding my sister’s body and hearing every detail of her life picked apart on the news for months.
“I know I asked in our emails, but it’s worth asking again. Is there anything you don’t want to talk about?”
I scan my thoughts, but it’s hard to concentrate. Every time I try to focus on anything that isn’t happening in this exact moment, the thoughts seem to slip through my fingers like water.
“I don’t think so, but I’ll let her know if something comes up.”
Michele flattens her lips into a serious expression and nods.
“Good. I want you to remember, you are in control here.” She reaches across the table and takes my hand again.
I want to pull back, even though the show of compassion feels genuine.
I get why she’s the one warming me up instead of Macey, who seems much more detached.
I even understand why the host needs to be unemotional, but she comes off as a little cold to me.
“Thanks,” I tell Michele and finally pull my hand from hers, placing it on my lap under the table.
“Do you have any questions for me, or about how anything will work?”
“No, I really did read through the material you provided,” I assure her.
“I believe you.” She smiles softly before pushing up from the table. “They should be about ready for us.”
I walk with her down the hallway as a tangle of worms start flipping around in my stomach. “That agent,” I start. Michele turns her head to look at me expectantly, and it isn’t lost on me that I just denied her query about questions, yet now I have one. “Is he working on my sister’s case?”
She pulls her chin back and shakes her head in denial.
“Oh no. Think of him more as an expert in the field. We’ve put in several requests to the FBI, and this is the first time we’ve gotten a yes.
I think Macey is planning on trying to get as much out of him as she can.
He’s here specifically for another case, but he agreed to sit in on a few others we’re working on while he’s in town.
” Her secret smile makes me think Michele believes the other woman is planning on picking more than just the agent’s brain about open cases.
“I’ll be in the audio room with a few of our tech guys. Try to forget about the mics and cameras,” she reminds me when we reach a large double door.
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” I blurt.
“Just tell her you need a break. We aren’t on anyone’s timetable besides yours,” she encourages with a nod.
“Okay.” I rub my palms down the front of my jeans and face the door as Michele lifts her hand, raps softly on the wood, then turns the knob and pushes it open.
The air in my lungs seems to escape all at once, leaving me feeling slightly lightheaded and a little woozy.
I fight the urge to run back down the hall and out of the office, and instead, I slide one foot forward into the carpeted room.
The door clicks closed behind me, and I drag in a shaky breath while taking in the shadowy space in front of me. Am I really ready for this?