Chapter 16 Tasteful
“Kiss me, kiss me like a reckless schoolgirl with a crush, on my lips. Sugar lips baby.” Tracy’s improvisation skills hadn’t blossomed in captivity.
Wagner had turned away from the picture when Tracy touched Laura. This was the second time she’d watched the video, the first time with audio. She could now hear the desperation added into the act. Tracy clearly was willing to do or say anything to keep her captors happy. Laura was immobilized, the pattern of knots that held her spread across a frame were expertly executed. Her mouth was wide open, a bit inserted in the back teeth that kept it in a forced an oval look of shock. Nothing could change the series of perversions about to happen.
“I’ll start by rubbing up against your chin. Then if you don’t eat, I’ll relax these muscles,” she touched the area where her pubic hair met her stomach.
Wagner’s heart was racing, futility was pumping through her veins, ice in her bloodstream carving out a throbbing pain in her head. Her own discomfort was trivial, in that moment that she knew that it was happening. It was real, the kind of real that is as personal as a facial expression or fingerprint. Odd, slightly connected thoughts went through her mind, like the fact that there were thousands of nuts that collectively didn’t believe the moon landing. She was willing to bet that the people who fought reality, the most stubborn doubters, were out there watching this and believing everything. No one wanted to be skeptical of this event, and Wagner knew why. Sex was the ultimate argument, and watching the live image, she stood and made footsteps quick to the bathroom.
She vomited. It was warm and full of acid. Her body dug deep into her digestive tract, but it couldn’t pull the experience from her mind. The geography was just all wrong. A splitting headache accompanied the final heaves – then she looked up into the mirror. A strand of hair had fallen, curled around her face, and for all the preoccupying beauty that stared back at her from the mirror; the only thought that went through her head was “I used to see her on the way to class.” She brushed the hair back and set about to fix the rest of the damage.
Wagner left the restroom and found Legacy waiting outside directly between her and the conference room. He said nothing, but for some reason he stood waiting. Wagner stood statuesque for a moment, looking up at her partner. She took his silence as smugness. “Real nice talking to you.”
Wagner brushed past him, hesitating at the door to the conference room. Naturally, she had no will to go back. Legacy’s presence standing over her shoulder, made it almost impossible to back down.
The audio from inside was bleeding into the hall. A woman’s voice yelled through breathless bouts of fake ecstasy, franticly signaling to her captors “everybody get in here – and - finish us off!” The controller’s voice came over the PA; a vacant sound ordered all of the colors to report to set. Wagner felt another wave of nausea. From behind her Legacy raised his voice in what seemed like effort to cover the sounds of the production.
“You don’t have to go back in there. The people in that room are going about this all wrong.” Wagner looked back at Legacy and saw a quick flash of something resembling concern, but coming from Legacy a closer translation would be a pause in judgment. It made her feel selfish. Legacy quickly adopted his regular tone, adding “Everything those investigators have done up till now has been useless, going back in there with them just includes you in their failure. It’s pathetic to keep failing the same way. Come back to the office.”
“You always know just what to say.” She quipped.
“It’s a real gift.” He said falling in step beside her. They didn’t speak on the way back to their office, but at the door Legacy leaned in and opened it for Wagner. She brushed under his arm and turned, catching Legacy face to face. This was the time when most men would fall under Wagner’s spell. “You know you overcompensate, you’re emotional and fragile you sit around debating your own shortcomings, which, granted there are many.” Legacy was not other men.
“Something else you should know about me, I work better when I’m pissed off. So we should be very – productive.” Wagner was already sinking into her chair and turning away from Legacy’s area of the office.
“Fine for you, but is there anything that makes you easier to work with?” Legacy stared at her like he was waiting for a reply, one of the first times he wanted to hear her voice. Wagner’s silence was delightful, and operatic.