"Well, here we are."
Sadie pulled her car to a stop outside the Star Drive Through, pushing
open
the driver's door and stepping out onto the dusty trackway. "But I
don't
know what we're looking for, Cyn. This place is derelict. Maybe you
came
back here simply because it was once a kind of home for you? I don't
know.
But I'm not sure it's even safe to go in, after you brought down the
house."
"The FBI made it sound before conducting their secondary
investigation." Cynthia
said with a shrug, following her friend's example and staring up at the
old
brick building. "I will make sure you are in no danger, Sadie. And I
appreciate
your company and your help. I don't know what I am looking for, either.
I
just hope I know if I find it."
Sadie frowned, reaching in her pocket for her cigarettes and lighting
one,
exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"So where do we start?" She asked. "Where were you when you realised
you
were here? Outside or in?"
"Inside." Cynthia responded. "And so inside we must go, too."
"I suppose it's a crazy thing to suggest," Sadie said slowly, as they
made
their way carefully into the building. "But if someone does have your
kind
of technology on hand, they couldn't be experimenting on you, could
they?
Controlling you from afar? Making you take little trips as if to, I
don't
know, disorientate and distract you?"
"I have considered the possibility." Cynthia agreed. "But I have tried
to
locate a foreign signal in vain. I believe my explanation is the most
likely
one. I need to defragment, badly, and my hard drive is cluttered. I
have
had such little time off, there just hasn't been an opportunity."
"Then that's what you should be doing now, instead of trudging around
this
place." Sadie flicked ash onto the floor. "There's nothing here. Not
now."
"No...not now." Cynthia echoed sadly, running a holographic finger
along
the dusty walls. "I do always feel something for this place, though. My
home
from home. More so since Jerrica died - as if that part of my memory is
made
stronger within me because of it. Emmet would come here and he'd share
parts
of his life with me - things he never told anyone else. I was the only
other
being who knew he was sick - aside from his doctor. He entrusted me
with
everything. I still wonder if he'd think I let him down."
"Irene used to tell me that we can only do so much - we can't save the
world."
Sadie said thoughtfully. "She was my counsellor, back in England.
Whenever
I'd feel like I was useless or unable to do something, she'd tell me
that.
That we can only do our best and that's all. You did your best for
Jerrica.
Noone who knew you then could dispute that."
"Rio did." Cynthia glanced at the floor. "Perhaps he was right. Either
way
it is past changing now. I have begun to accept that she is not coming
back,
Sadie. Strange as it seems, it has taken this long."
"It took me a lot longer to accept that about Mom." Impulsively Sadie
hugged
her friend. "Seriously - several years, an abusive boyfriend and a drug
addiction
before the people in rehab dragged it all out of me and made me face it
and
deal with it."
She glanced up at the ceiling nervously. "There are cracks everywhere.
Are
you sure we're safe?"
"I am quite sure." Cynthia agreed. "Else I would not have let you
inside. The cracks are superficial - the after effects of Aaron and my
efforts to
conceal my identity, nothing more."
She made her way across to the far wall, running her hands along the
brickwork
until she found the power outlet.
"What is it?" Sadie hurried to join her. "You found something?"
"No...I found nothing." Cynthia sighed. "If someone or something was
operating
a computer out of here, they would need power. But the power socket is
untouched."
"It doesn't look all that safe." Sadie looked doubtful. "Would they
risk
it?"
"Truly, I don't know. I'm clutching at straws." Cynthia admitted.
Sadie turned, scanning the room as she took a drag on her cigarette.
"You know, I don't know if you are." She murmured.
"What?" Cynthia looked startled, and Sadie waved her cigarette in the
direction
of the far wall.
"Footsteps in the dust." She said softly. "You and I didn't make them.
Who
did?"
"Someone." Hope flickered in Cynthia's violet eyes. "They look recent,
too.
Maybe..."
"Yesterday?"
"Perhaps." Cynthia agreed. Then she frowned.
"But I cannot tell you where I stood before recall returned to me. It
could
have been me."
"No, there are two sets of prints, I think." Sadie made her way
cautiously over to inspect it. "I suppose it could've been kids, but at
least one of
them looks to have been wearing some kind of heeled shoe."
"Teenage girls? I have seen them wear heels."
"I'm just saying what I see." Sadie shrugged. "And something else.
Look."
She bent down, picking something up and turning it over in her hand.
"It
looks like the button off someone's jacket. A designer button, at
that."
She held it out, and Cynthia took it, eying it carefully.
"Definitely not teenage material." She agreed. "So someone was there. A
woman?"
"I think so."
"That hardly narrows down our field of suspects." Cynthia sounded
tired. "But
at least I know I am not completely insane. Something or someone must
have
brought me here. Maybe they used some kind of magnetism to erase my
memory
somehow. I do not know how they could do that over the distance between
here
and the Starlight, but it's just possible they might have some...some
way
to do it through my projector. It might explain my memory lapses."
"Well, if you think it's possible, I've no reason to disagree. You're
the
expert." Sadie stubbed her cigarette out. "We know that there was that
blond
girl, and she was probably the one who broke into Misfits Music. That
being
so, she must've had some kind of technology, in order to confuse the
video
camera. And if she broke into Syl's car, well, is it a leap of faith to
suggest
she unlocked it with some device, too? Something that disabled the
alarm?
Could she even have had a way of, well, making it drive itself? We know
there
wasn't any sign of DNA at the scene."
She grimaced.
"Tell me if I'm getting too sci-fi for you."
"No." Cynthia shook her head. "I find it plausible."
She frowned.
"But it would take someone with a good deal of skill." She added. "It's
something
I could do...and probably Aaron could rig something up to do that,
too."
"You're neither of you fitting the suspect description." Sadie looked
amused.
"Unless Aaron's taken to a wig and Copper's shoes."
"No, I didn't mean that." Despite herself a slight smile touched
Cynthia's lips. "Whoever it is does not have to be working alone. But
one name does spring to mind."
"Who?"
"Techrat." Cynthia said grimly. "The man who infected me with the
virus."
Sadie looked grave.
"He doesn't sound like the blond wig wearing type to me." She said
slowly.
"I don't believe he is." Cynthia replied. "But he is closely associated
with
Rebel Records in some way. Maybe we did narrow the search field."
She held the button up to the light, tracing over the designer logo
with
her finger.
"Steffi?" Sadie's eyes opened wide. "Cyn, no...she wouldn't. Not now!"
"I have no suspicion of Stefana, not this time." Cynthia responded. "I
thought
more of a certain group of...well...former foes of the Misfits, who
might
well want to use Jerrica's death as a smokescreen for some plan of
their
own. Undermining Misfits' Music is a Rebel Records ploy, is it not?"
"Stingers?"
"Exactly."
"So Rory Llewelyn? He's hired Techrat and...and whoever this blond girl
in
the club was?"
"Possibly. And if it comes to that, if Daisy Buchan is not a viable
subject
on account of her intelligence, Minx and Rapture would be very good
candidates.
Both are naturally blond, and naturally ruthless."
Cynthia shrugged her shoulders. "But it is speculation and that alone.
Come.
We should head back and I think I would like to spend some time at my
sister's
grave. I have seldom had time of late, and I like to do it when I can."
"Sure. I'll drop you off on the way home." Sadie offered. Cynthia
offered a smile.
"Thank you."
"One thing I've learnt about being a part of Jewel, you know, is that
anything
is possible." Sadie reflected as they returned slowly to the waiting
vehicle,
climbing inside. "And that jealous people will go to pretty big lengths
to
upset us. But the Misfits haven't recorded in years. I could understand
if
someone was attacking just the company - and in the past they've done
that
through us. But the attack on the studio was on the Misfit manuscripts.
Whoever
did that was attacking a group that folded in the early nineties.
Where's
the logic in that?"
"Truly, I am still trying to find it." Cynthia admitted. "But as I said
before,
perhaps it is a complex smokescreen. We do not know for sure who we are
dealing
with, but we know they are technologically experienced and
intelligent."
"I suppose so." Sadie flexed her fingers, putting the car in gear. "I'd
quite
like to find them out, to be honest. We take far too much crap from
Rebel
Records and their people - wouldn't you just like to land a fist across
Rory
Llewelyn's jaw once in a while?"
"That sounds like something Syl would say." Cynthia laughed. "We don't
know
that he is involved."
"No, we don't, but he's my prime suspect after our chat today." Sadie
responded,
pulling out of the dusty parking lot and onto the main thoroughfare.
"And
I don't like that what he's doing is disorientating you, either. We
know
he knew about you - Stef said he was after information, even as
recently as
last spring. Maybe he didn't get it from her, but maybe he did get it
from
somewhere."
"In which case, I shall be watching my back." Cynthia said resolutely.
"And
I will be doubly vigilant to any attempts to tamper with my memory or
my
run time. Whoever is behind all of this, it's about time we found out!"
"Agreed." Sadie nodded. "But here we are...the cemetary. Don't take all
of
this to Jerrica, huh? She's found peace. Don't disturb that with all
this
craziness."
"I love my sister too much for that." Cynthia said gravely. "She had
too
much troubling her when she was alive. I really just want some peace
and
quiet to spend here - since it's as close as I will ever be to her
now."
"I'm sure she knows you're there." Sadie squeezed the hologram's hand.
"Go
on. I'll see you back home."
"Yes." Cynthia nodded, pushing open the passenger side door. "Thank
you,
Sadie - for your company and your understanding. Perhaps we have
discovered little, but I feel better knowing that there are possible
explanations for
what happened."
"Me too." Sadie nodded. "Stay safe and I'll see you later."
Cynthia shut the car door, casting her friend a sad grin and a wave,
then
making her way across the field of gravestones to where Jerrica's
shining
new tombstone stood gleaming in the summer sunlight. Sadie watched her
for
a moment, then sighed, putting her car in gear once more and turning
for
the Starlight Mansion.
"Whoever's trying to mess with everything needs a slap in the face."
She
said with a sigh. "It's putting Cynthia through a lot more than we'd
realised,
and after all she's already been through, she doesn't need this. Plus
if
it is Rory Llewelyn, it means that he didn't believe Steffi when she
told
him the computer was down. And...if it is him, it's more than possible
the
others will think Stef lied to us and that she told him more than we
thought."
She hesitated, considering.
"Do I think she lied?" She wondered aloud. "I know she's capable of a
lot
of things. Do I think she's doublecrossed Synergy? That she's in on
whatever
all of this is and last night was part of some elaborate hoax?"
She pursed her lips, shaking her head.
"No. I don't think so." She decided at length. "She's my friend, and I
know
her better than any of the other Jewels. I know she's vulnerable and
insecure
in so many ways. She's confided so much in me since Copper's
wedding...stuff
that she'd rather die than have the whole world know. If she says she
told
Rory nothing, I believe her. And I won't mention to the others that he
might
be involved - just that Cyn and I found a button at the Star Drive
Through
and we think it's involved with the girl at the club. And to that end,
I
must make time to really talk to Alex about her. He has connections I
don't...and
maybe he'll have a lead. If nothing else it's something to pursue!"
***********
Well, it was now or never.
Stefana gazed up at the imposing brick-and-plaster building, taking in
the
silver gilted logo that hung impressively over the big double doors.
People
bustled in and out of the Tribune's main building, too busy even to
notice
the presence of a celebrity in their midst, and she swallowed hard,
gathering
herself. Behind her in the town she heard a clock chime six, and she
set
her teeth, marching up the cement steps and pushing her way into the
main
lobby. Casting a quick glance around her to ensure she hadn't been
spotted,
she made a beeline for the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time.
Her
heart thudded in her chest at the thought of what she was about to do.
"But I'm not going to be scared out of my wits by that deranged thing
any
longer." She murmured, as she reached the floor on which the Tribune
housed
it's newsroom. "If Sadie won't even listen to me, what else can I do?
Protecting
it might wind up getting me killed. I don't care what anyone says -
that
was Synergy in that restaurant and she's out of control. Darren might
be
a jerk but at least he's a real person. And he's hot on the whole
Synergy
topic. He...he might know a way of flushing her out and, well,
destroying
her, if that's what it takes. I'm not going to be followed around Los
Angeles
any more."
She pushed open the door of the newsroom, standing in the doorway as
she
scanned the room for a familiar face.
"Looking for me?" A voice came from behind her and she turned, relief
mixed
with annoyance flooding her expression.
"Yes, for once." She agreed. "I wanted to talk to you."
"I thought you just did that." Darren eyed her keenly, folding his arms
and
leaning up against a plaster pillar as he surveyed his guest. Stefana
frowned.
"You what?"
"You were just here." Darren spread his hands. "Gave me a very
interesting scoop, in fact."
Stefana's face drained of all colour.
"What?" She exclaimed. "I was no such thing! Darren, I've literally
just
come from rehearsal!"
"I wonder what kind of long term memory impact drugs like speed have on
the
human brain." Darren looked pensive. "You could make quite a study, you
know."
"Darren, I'm serious!" Stefana was becoming frantic. "I wasn't here. I
mean,
I've just got here. I mean...what did I say to you?"
"Well, it was all very interesting." Darren shrugged his shoulders,
indicating
for the musician to follow him out into the stairwell and away from the
rest
of the Tribune's staff. "You marched in demanding that you speak to me
and
that it was important. You told me something about a...a psychological
condition
that you were on medication for, you burst out crying and you begged me
not
to be angry with you for lying about the computer. Apparently you're an
attention
whore who makes stuff up to get people to notice her - but you know a
whole
lot less about Synergy than you led me to believe and I'd be mad if I
ever
took anything you said seriously. You said you and Cynthia just
stumbled
onto the wrecked machine a week before Jerrica died and you never knew
any
more about it than that."
He eyed his companion seriously, taking in the fear and anger in her
eyes.
"Well?" He pressed. "Anything more to add? Because that's a pretty
juicy
story, you know, and it would be somewhat backed up by your appearance
just
now...claiming to have no memory of this ever taking place."
"Darren, I swear to you, I wasn't here. It wasn't me." There was
desperation in Stefana's tone and she grabbed the reporter by the
wrists. "I swear to you. Whoever it was...it wasn't me. You can
ask Luca and the others. I've
been playing music all afternoon. I've not been here. I swear!"
Darren eyed her long and hard for a moment. Then he spread his hands.
"I know you haven't." He agreed.
"What?" Stefana was taken aback.
"I knew it wasn't you." Darren shrugged his shoulders.
"You...you did?" Stefana looked confused. "But...how?"
"Stefana Ranieri doesn't cry in a public place, where anyone can see
her."
Darren said acidly. "She also doesn't take me into her confidence about
anything.
Far as I know, you could have any number of psychological disorders. It
wouldn't
surprise me. But I don't believe you'd come tell me about them. You
don't
like me and you certainly don't trust me not to put something like that
on
the front page of the Tribune. Plus, you have a way of looking at me -
like
I'm some bug that crawled out from under a paving slab. This chick
didn't
look at me that way."
He frowned.
"They did a good job, though. Makeup, hair, the works. Looked just like
you."
Stefana swallowed hard.
"So are you going to...you know, print any of this?"
"No point, since it's not true." Darren responded simply. "And much as
I
like rumour and scandal, the truth is what brings out the real dirt. No
sense
in a story that gets disproved within ten seconds of it making print.
The
Tribune might be a tabloid but it's a tabloid with a reputation for
digging
out that real dirt. Not someone's crazed hoaxes."
Stefana took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall of the
stairwell.
"I need a cigarette." She murmured. "This gets worse and worse."
"You bet it does." Darren agreed quietly. "Because this is big,
Stefana. Someone
obviously doesn't want me to listen to anything you might tell me. And
that
being the case, you must know something that I really want to hear. Is
that
why you came to see me? You have a story?"
"I...I don't know what I have any more." Stefana's voice shook
slightly.
"So why did you come here?"
"It doesn't matter." Stefana glanced at her hands. "It's already gone
beyond
that. If she's here...I mean, if it's spread to me now...I can't risk
making
any more ripples." "Meaning?"
"Meaning that the last person on the planet I should be seen talking to
right
now is a Tribune reporter." Stefana snapped. "Listen, Darren...how
would
you feel if someone was impersonating you?"
"Honoured that someone hated me enough to try and ruin my life?" Darren
pondered.
"It'd mean I'd hit a major nerve somewhere along the line."
He eyed her sharply.
"Or that I'd stumbled onto something pretty important. Such as where
the
stolen computer parts are?"
"If I knew that, right now I'd tell you." Stefana said darkly.
"Unfortunately I don't know half as much as this...impersonator seems
to think I know about
that. If it's even about that. I don't know any more. All I know is
that
it creeps me out. Weird things have been happening all over Los Angeles
lately
and I don't like it."
"First that incident in the restaurant, with Sylva." Darren looked
thoughtful.
"You know, I checked that out - you said it wasn't her and it wasn't.
She
was at Flash Studios all day and the entire production team saw her.
When
she went for you in the restaurant, she was actually somewhere else.
Now
someone comes into this office pretending to be you. You're the only
thing
that those two incidents have in common. You must know something you
can
tell me."
"Tell me again what she looked like. The me who came to see you."
"Like you." Darren said ironically.
"I meant what was she wearing?"
"Something black and pseudo-gothic, not unlike what you're wearing."
Darren
shrugged. "I'm a journalist, I'm not a fashion connoisseur."
"Was she wearing a watch? Or jewellery?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Answer the damn question, Darren." Stefana glared at him. "Because I'm
really
on edge right now and I might just flip out and take it out on an
innocent
bystander. You being the obvious target."
"Yes, you're definitely Stefana." Darren laughed, unperturbed by her
aggression.
"I don't remember if she was wearing a watch, and that's the truth. I
don't
go in for all that girly accessorising, unless it's gonna bag me a
story."
He frowned.
"Though there was one thing I thought was a bit odd." He acknowledged.
"Which was what?"
"She kept playing with a ring on her finger." Darren pursed his lips.
"I
noticed it because it was on the fourth finger of her left hand and I
meant
to dig into that - find out whether there was any reason you were
wearing
a ring there. Secret beau, all of that kind of stuff. It was a weird
ring
though. I didn't think much of that, since you're a pretty weird chick,
but
it had two initials on it. I was all set to go delving into some
romantic
secret for the morning edition when I realised that she really wasn't
you."
"Like an engagement ring?" Stefana pulled a graphic face. "Oh, get
real.
You can forget that idea right now."
"That's where she wore it, though." Darren shrugged. "Don't ask me. I'm
not
the one being impersonated."
"What were the initials? Do you remember?"
"One was a J. She had her finger over the other for most of the time we
were
talking." Darren shrugged. "Why?"
"It's not important." Stefana's tone belied her words and Darren
frowned.
"Listen to me." He said quietly. "Today something weird happened in my
office.
I could print all that stuff about you - more than just me in the
office
heard what you had to say. I told them that it was someone trying it on
and
not really you at all, but I could still get it on the front page."
"You said you'd rather print the truth." Stefana snapped back.
"I would, if someone would tell me it." Darren returned. "And getting
the
truth out of you is like getting blood from a stone."
"Are you surprised?" Stefana exclaimed. "You damn well got a job at
Rebel
Records to spy on me! You used private information about my bandmates
to
create press hype and you blackmailed me into telling you something
that
wasn't any of your business, anyway! Why in hell should I begin to
trust
you? I don't know why I came here at all. Obviously it was a stupid
idea."
"Well, we'll never know, will we?" Darren observed reasonably. "Because
you're
the only one of the two of us who knows why you are here."
He shrugged.
"You know me well enough now to know that I will get to the bottom of
whatever
it is." He added. "I'm not your average stupid scandal-monger. I find
things
out and I have connections. Sources. People who aren't so reluctant to
talk
as you are. I will find out whatever it is you know. If someone is
willing
to impersonate you, I want to know why. And I will discover it."
Stefana was silent for a moment, then,
"You have no idea what you are messing with." She murmured.
"Then tell me."
"When I figure it out, I'll let you know." Stefana's tone was bitter.
"Truth
is, I don't know enough myself. All I do know is that I'm freaked out
and
someone is dead set on undermining my credibility. God knows what they
might
do next, or if you're even the only reporter they've tackled."
"If you were in a rehearsal all afternoon, Stef, you have an alibi."
Darren
dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "And most press in this city
doesn't
have roots as deep as we do here."
"Cool Trash do."
"Cool Trash buy a lot of secondary information from our sources when we
reject
them as rumour." Darren was scathing. Stefana snorted.
"Rumour or truth, Darren - my reputation and my life is on the line
here."
"Your life? How so?"
"Because this whole situation is crazy and dangerous."
Darren's eyes narrowed.
"In the restaurant, when that girl went for you...you acted like you
recognised
her." He remembered slowly. "You said 'what are you doing
here?"
"I thought she was Sylva."
"No...no at first you did." Darren shook his head. "But then you...it
was
like you saw something else. Like you knew who it really was."
"Whether I did or didn't, it makes no difference." Stefana shook her
head
impatiently. "It's not someone you can exactly pin down."
She sighed.
"I'm going home." She decided at length. "Home to lie low and hope that
nothing
more comes of this. If they think I'm too close, let them take this as
me
being scared off. And you...you keep away from me, Darren. This isn't a
news
story you're after. This is nasty and scary and if you don't get us
both
killed, you're likely to get me hurt with your prying around."
"A story is a story." Darren shrugged. "And casualties can happen. I'll
find
out whatever it is that's worth knowing, and I'll print it. We'll see
who's
left standing at the end - but your melodramatics and threats aren't
scaring
me. I know you like to keep your secrets and I like to find them out.
And
I'm much better at finding them than you are at keeping them."
"You're a fool, then." Stefana spat back at him. "And I'm going."
With that she turned on her heel, stalking back down the stairs the way
she
came.
Darren watched her go, his expression thoughtful.
"You know who's doing this, and you're protecting them." He mused.
"Which
means it's someone in your circle somewhere. Someone showbiz, even.
That's
worth looking into, if nothing else. Whatever it is, it must be big. If
someone's
willing to discredit Stefana to keep her story quiet, it's probably
going
to stick Tribune sales through the roof. And maybe it's reporters
intuition,
but I'm sure it has something to do with the theft of that wretched
machine!"
JACQUI'S LEGACY: PART
TWO
DISCLAIMER:
PLEASE NOTE
The copyright for the original Jem characters
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All other characters, including their
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from 2001 to the
present day and are not to be reproduced elsewhere without permission.
The Teenangel Outsiders, Jesta, Flame, Ryan
Montgomery
and the future interpretations of Aja, Danse and certain of the other
original
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outsider
fiction world is twinned with Jewel's World. You can visit her site at
www.teenangeloutsiders.com!
All events in the stories on this site are
based
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