Tarot

Chapter 03

The Black Bag

I paced back and forth in the room, my mind racing as I racked my brain for any hint of having mentioned my last name to Gray. "I'm Nova. Nice to meet you, Gray," I recalled saying during our initial encounter. But as I replayed the conversation in my head, I couldn't pinpoint a moment where I had disclosed my surname.

It was like trying to grasp at a fleeting memory, slipping through my fingers just when I thought I had it. I furrowed my brow, scratching my head in bewilderment. How could I have forgotten something like that? It was such a basic detail, yet it seemed to have slipped my mind entirely.

As I mulled over the situation, a nagging thought crept into my mind—did Gray really say "Hearn" as I was heading back into my apartment, or did I imagine it? I tried to rationalize, convincing myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me, perhaps fueled by the paranoia of the current case I was immersed in.

It wouldn't be the first time my imagination had gotten the best of me, especially when the stakes were high and my nerves were on edge. But the more I tried to dismiss it as a figment of my imagination, the more persistent the doubt became, lingering like a stubborn shadow in the back of my mind.

Startled by the sudden vibration of my phone against the smooth glass surface of the coffee table, I couldn't help but flinch at the unexpected interruption. With hesitant steps, I approached the device, its screen illuminated with the familiar caller ID: "Mrs. Yang." The name conjured images of the landlord, the matriarch of the apartment complex, the quintessential handler of everything within its confines.

"Why was she calling me at this hour of the night?" I mused, raising an eyebrow as I answered the call and held the phone to my ear. Mrs. Yang's broken English echoed through the device as she spoke. "Hello, dear, did I wake you?"

Despite the ungodly hour, Mrs. Yang's voice came through my phone with that familiar, comforting tone. She was like the apartment complex's unofficial den mother, always checking in on her tenants. "Hello, dear, did I wake you?" she asked in her signature broken English.

I chuckled softly, trying to shake off the worry and overthinking. "Nope, I was up. How are you, Mrs. Yang?" I replied, feeling a sense of warmth despite the late hour. Mrs. Yang's genuine concern always managed to brighten even the darkest of nights.

"Oh honey! I'm doing great," Mrs. Yang chirped over the phone. "I'm actually out of town at the moment, visiting my daughter. Guess what? She just had the most adorable baby girl! I'm over the moon with joy and excitement."

Her voice exuded pure happiness, and I couldn't help but mirror her infectious smile, feeling genuinely happy for her and her family despite the late hour.

"That's wonderful to hear, Mrs. Yang," I replied, my smile growing as her contagious happiness spread through the phone line. "Congratulations on becoming a grandmother! I'm sure your daughter and her little one are absolutely precious."

Mrs. Yang's joy was palpable, even through her broken English. It was moments like these that reminded me of the simple joys in life, even amidst the chaos of late-night phone calls.

"Ah, right, I almost forgot why I called!" Mrs. Yang's tone shifted slightly, her bubbly demeanor tempered by a touch of seriousness. "So, listen, there's this new guy who just moved into the unit across from yours. Poor thing seems a bit lost, you know? Didn't have a clue about this neighborhood. I thought, who better to help him out than you? So, I gave him your full name and phone number. Hope you don't mind!"

I let out a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. My laughter was a bit breathless as I responded, "Oh, no need to apologize at all! It's totally fine, really. I'm more than happy to help him out if he needs anything. You don't have to worry about anything!" A wide grin stretched across my face as I spoke, reassured by Mrs. Yang's concern and eager to lend a helping hand to the new neighbor.

As I wrapped up the call, a light bulb went off in my head, and I couldn't help but chuckle at my own paranoia. "Seriously, Nova, how on edge can you be?" I mused. It suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks—Gray knowing my name wasn't some creepy stalker scenario at all. He probably got it from Mrs. Yang! It wasn't until I introduced myself that he made the connection. Boy, talk about a weight off my shoulders!

Feeling a sense of relief wash over me, I let out a sigh and made my way back to the kitchen to retrieve the cup of coffee I had prepared earlier. The warmth of the mug in my hands was oddly comforting as I carried it back to my living space. Placing it carefully on the coffee table alongside my folders, I couldn't help but notice how the topic of Gray had completely slipped my mind.

I picked up the folder and began sifting through its contents, studying the photographs and evidence we had collected thus far. Despite my best efforts, nothing seemed to click or make sense as I delved deeper into the material. The more I stared at the images and documents, the more elusive the answers became, leaving me feeling increasingly frustrated and perplexed.