Chapter 2

A Chapter by Amy

Downtown, Victoria

June, 1984

Carina sat in front of a typewriter, her fingertips click-clacking as they typed out a document. A silver nameplate read out her name in engraved letters. She was sitting in a tiny law firm, on a sleepy strip of Victoria. It had been a long week, with a case she had fatefully lost in media attention thanks to poorly picked witnesses and one hell of a vicious defence attorney.

Thanks to her antics, she’d unleashed a maelstrom of rumors surrounding herself, the trial, and the reputation of Rommel. She shuddered. Hopefully, he wouldn’t file suit for defamation. Another controversial trial was the last thing she needed, and she definitely didn’t want to see it from the other side of the courtroom. Of course, she had deserved everything that happened, making such a grandiose show in the trial. But she had never anticipated so much backlash.

In just one week she had to burn fifteen letters that attacked her on her conduct, speech, outfit, and failure to win. Most of which accused her given statistics as unproved libel. A few strange letters congratulated her on a few things, including her sudden rant, fiery prosecution, and the last letter was a facetious marriage proposal from a young man in Ontario.

This better be the last time I try to survive a trial through painkillers, she thought bitterly. Her temperature only rose as the trial continued. Even worse, almost everything had gone wrong in that trial. Well, except for one thing, but it mostly likely didn’t change a thing, anyway. Just another lost cause. Still, I wonder if anyone knew what I was talking about…

She huffed. A week of nonsense and now she had to type up a letter of apology to the judge, who was unfortunate enough to deal with her antics. Growling as she made a mistake, she tapped her nails on the table and fumbled for correction tape.

She raised her head to the sound of chimes �" someone was entering her law firm.

It was a man in a well-tailored suit and a briefcase. He looked young, maybe fresh out of grad school, with almond-shaped black eyes and sideswept black hair. She narrowed her eyes; there was something familiar about him, but she wasn’t sure what.

He extended his hand. "It's my pleasure to meet you again, Miss Rossi. How have you been?" His voice was surprisingly deep and formal, as if he was treading carefully on his words.

"That's Dr. Rossi," she said, whipping off her reading glasses and standing up. "And I don't believe that we've met."

"My apologies. But I'm certain that we've met before. Are you sure that you don't remember me?" He leaned in closer.

She studied his face, and glanced at everything from his Oxford shoes to his dark eyes. Where had she seen him before?

"You're that juror that spoke up," she said slowly. "You're from my last trial."

He grinned. "That's right. I knew you would remember."

His conduct was too warm for her liking. “Well, thanks for that,” she muttered. “I um…had a fever that day.”

“It’s no problem, Dr. Rossi.” He laughed. “Though you should see one yourself.”

She gave a rapt laugh. “Already did, now that you mention it. Just call me Carina.”

“I see. Well, Carina, it's good to see you outside the courtroom.”

“Yeah,” A bitter smile rose to her face. “Thanks for letting me lose, though.”

The man chuckled nervously. “Sorry about that. It was a group decision. We wanted to let you win; it was just that...well…”

“There was no evidence,” said Carina heavily.

He grinned with a toss of his head. “You got it.”

There was a pretentious air to his voice that made her skin prick, but she ignored it. Just a kid trying to impress me with his etiquette skills. At least he has some. She gestured to the black leather sofas next to her desk. "Why don't you sit down?"

"Actually, there won't be any need," he said, raising his suitcase. "There's something I have to discuss with you, uh, Carina."

She raised her eyes. "Excuse me? If you'd like to schedule an appointment, you can�"”

He looked right into her eyes. "This isn't about hiring you, Miss Carina. Actually, in a manner of speaking, it is, but not within the confines of the law."

He was out of order, but something about his last statement shook her. "What do you mean not within the confines of the law?"

"It might, be, as you can say, a very private matter?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not available for any private negotiations."

"I am the only one negotiating here, so if you can give me a moment…"

She shook her head and knit her eyebrows together. "Listen, I'm not here to hear any pitches, and I'm quite busy with something else, so if you could please just get to the point or kindly leave my office--"

"There's something you said at the trial that intrigues me," he said quickly. "There are happenings in our vicinity that even laws cannot control."

Carina kept her mouth clamped, waiting.

"Can you explain to me why you said that?" he continued. "Along with your entire performance during when you mentioned the crime rates...and the surge in disappearance?”

Her shoulders stiffened. "There isn't anything to explain, is there? It was just something I said, something general that anyone could have made an assumption about."

"Hm." He looked on, not seeming to believe her.

Carina's eyes narrowed. "And what's it to you anyway, what comments I make in court?"

"Nothing, except...it was all true."

Carina blinked and widened her eyes.

"Still, such a sudden thing for you to say in court. Is there a story behind this?"

His question was so unexpected that it caught her off-guard.

"You're a sly kid. What makes you think there's a story behind this?

He laughed. "First, you know as well as I do that there's a motive for anything. Second, I'm twenty-four years old, and employed, I'm hardly as much of a child as you are."

She raised her eyes; he was older than he looked.

"And you?" Carina jolted when she realized he was asking for her age. Rude, but what was the point in denying him an answer?

"Twenty-nine years young," she snapped.

"I wouldn't have guessed a day over twenty-six."

"Don't flatter me."

He chuckled, and for some reason it made her ears flare up. She gripped the sides of her table and faced him. "If you don't mind me getting to the point, why are you here?"

"Exactly what I said, Miss Carina. I'm curious about what you said that day at court. About your motives to speak up, your facts, and how it all concerns you."

Carina's mouth was a thin frown. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, for one thing, I've done a little bit of research myself. You had a few things mixed up, but for the most part, you're right.

He opened the briefcase, and displayed the contents for Carina to see. It was perfectly organized research investigation, with neat stacks of newspaper clippings, reports, and even what looked like blood and water samples.

"Constant unaccounted disappearances, hate and race crimes from mysterious sources, upsurges of gang-related activity, disappearing minorities, and for some reason, they're all linked together." He lowered the cover on his briefcase slightly. "Yet the rate of crime diminishes year by year. You know something sinister is going on, do you, Carina?"

Carina felt faint, as if last week’s fever was bubbling up again. "Mister…" she paused, realizing she still didn't know his name, "There are cases like these everywhere."

He smiled with his teeth. "Call me Robin. Carina, this is British Columbia. Even in the ghettos, we can't expect plots of families to disappear altogether." His fingers touched a graph that was attached to a folder. "With an emphasis on newly-arrived foreigners and minorities. A utility source, if you ask me. Do you know what this means?"

Her eyes widened in fear. "What do you know?"

He stepped closer to her. "That there's something going on, that no one else is realizing."

She stepped away. "Stop. I still don't know what you want from me."

He snapped the suitcase shut and set it to the ground. "To join forces. You're an admirable, strong woman, Miss Carina. I'd love to work with you as a team." Carina's breath caught in her throat, and she could see Robin's eyes glint. She recognized that look in his eyes. Was it ambition, or idealistic determination?

"We can change things, together. We can bring justice to those monsters toying with other people's lives, our lives�"figure out what's really happening and put an end to it all."

He was charismatic, but he was unbelievable. She shook her head. "You can't expect me to go on a wild goose hunt to figure out the truth."

"I thought justice would mean a lot to a lawyer like you."

"You have me wrong," she snapped, rubbing her temple. "I'm a prosecuting solicitor. I analyze evidence and send criminals to jail, with the longest sentences I can give them. Playing "detective" has nothing to do with my job!"

"Well, that's exactly what I want you to do, then. Your job's no different than it was before. Analyze data. Catch the criminals. Then destroy them, but in court. I would myself...but it's out of my hands."

Carina paused, not knowing want to say. "So you want me to…"

He extended his hand to her. "Join me, tell me any information you come across, and administer justice when we catch them in the act."

Carina didn't take his hand. She looked at him, her eyes hard. "But there's more to it, is there? What's all this to you?"

His hand dropped and his face furrowed. He spoke slowly.

"Everything I've ever worked for depends on finding out the answer, and I need all the information and leads I can get." His eyes flashed. "I need to know what you know too. I know you didn't come to these conclusions by mere research on your own. There was someone who told you, or at least someone who hinted what was happening to make you find out for yourself, wasn't there? I need to know everything you know, and who you got it from. It's the only way we can compare research and figure this out."

So that was the catch. He wanted her information.

"I don't reveal my sources in court, Mister," she said coolly. "And I don't expect to change."

For a moment, a dark look crossed his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "Someone close to you was affected, is that right?"

Carina almost fell over. "How did you know?"

His eyes looked distant and glanced away. "It's the same every time." He shuffled his hands into his pockets. "For me, it was my father. He left when I was fourteen to find more information, and, well, he never came back."

"I'm sorry." Her voice sounded so automatically that it felt unfeeling.

He glanced at her. "I'm not going to expect you to tell me everything. But if there’s anything you know that can benefit me or my organization…” He searched for words. “We’ll be able to make good use of that info. Find ways to change things and do damage control. If you won't help me, you can at least help me on my way?"

Her eyes locked with his; there was something about the hungry look in his eyes�"something she saw in herself the last time she had hope. Where had that hope disappeared to?

He straightened up and picked up the suitcase.

For a split second, Carina didn’t want him to go. Thoughts buzzed in her head. She could call him back and ask him more information, or maybe talk longer. Arrange another meeting. Ask him what he meant. Ask him about…her. But she knew it was hopeless...She couldn't do anything.

Carina turned away and faced her desk, grabbing her arms. Suddenly, she felt someone lean over her neck and put a hand on her shoulder. She felt a cold trickle up her spine, and his breath tickled her ear.

"There's a phone number on the card that I'm going to give you," he whispered." Call them and say that Robinson Marrit referred you. You'll find out anything and everything you want to know that we know already. This is the only chance you'll get, so I suggest you use it well. Welcome to the Counter Cause."

She felt his arm slide over her chest and put something on her desk. She shivered as his hand graced the exposed part of her collarbone. Then, just as she turned her head, he had moved away, walking out of the firm.

For a moment, she could do nothing but gape after him, as he walked to the curb and entered a sleek black car. He looked at her one more time, gave a nod, and drove off.

Her face flushed and her eyes narrowed. She shook her head and then massaged her forehead with her fingers. It was all so fast. It was ridiculous. How could she place her trust on a man that she had just met...and walked away?

She glanced at the card and gingerly picked it up. She scanned it, frowning. What could it be? Surely, it was another lost cause…

She moved toward the wastebasket, ready to drop it in.

She hesitated. For some reason, her arms couldn't let go of the card.

Maybe it isn't. Maybe…they can help me bring her back.

Her arm trembled and lowered.

But how can you know? How can you trust him? He's the only one that's ever mentioned it. But you can never let anyone find out, or…

"We can bring justice to those monsters toying with other people's lives, our lives," he had told her. "Figure out what's really happening and put an end to it all."

"How did he know?" she whispered. "How did he know that it took you away?"

In a moment of weakness, she faltered, and with a shaking hand, she placed the wrinkled card into her breast pocket.

She slumped back into her chair, feeling lethargy take hold of her limbs. She looked at her document again, but decided to put it off for later. There was too much going in her life already. With a glance at a faded picture in a wooden frame sitting on her table, she shivered, and placed her head on the cool wood of her desk.

Five minutes passed, and she raised her head again, unable to stop thinking.

She took the phone from the receiver and gazed at the card until the letters blurred in her mind.

She started dialing.

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