Made in the Dark

Strangers With Memories

Tallahassee, Florida 

Present-day

"Okay so, what are we doing today again?" Amity asked into the phone. Bowie sighed on the other end.

"Today you are heading to the Carter-Howell-Strong park to investigate the death of Parker Dawson. He died in 2015 and is the first of these murders. Same details you already know." Bowie paused, "How's it going with your brother?" He asked carefully.

"Oh..um..." Amity looked over towards the living area where Jackson and Elijah were sitting in total silence. "It's... uh... it's definitely going?" Bowie laughed dryly on the other side.

"Sounds like a party. Are you sure you don't want me there?"

Amity shook her head, then realized Bowie couldn't see her. "No, thank you though. It's uh... It's- not good here." Bowie understood.

"Ok. Call me if you need anything." He replied. Amity didn't respond.

A few beats of silence passed. It unsettled Amity the way she could hear his breathing through the speaker.

"I- Uh... can I hang up now?" Amity asked tentatively. Bowie laughed.

"Of course, Ams. Talk to you later."

Amity grumbled vaguely before putting her phone away, relieved that it was over. She looked up from her coffee mug to see Jackson walking toward her. He pulled the chair out across from her and sat down.

"Holy shit," was all he said. Amity nodded.

They sat in silence, not sure what they could say. Elijah was worse off than either of them could have imagined. Jackson and Amity were both angry for the same reasons but at different people.

Jackson blamed Elijah. He loved that son of a bitch like a brother, but he never knew when to give up. Jackson didn't need to ask him to know that Eli had spent almost his whole life obsessing over Devin's case. How could he have let himself get this bad? He seethed. I don't know what happened to my best friend, but this isn't him.

Amity was just as angry, if not more. However, she couldn't find it in her heart to blame her brother. She fought back tears as she laid her head in her hands. How did I let him get this bad? Why didn't I try harder to reconnect with him?

Though their anger was different, the two shared one thought.

What are we going to do now?

"I- I talked to Bowie. He sent me the address of the pond... Do you want to head over there now?" Amity invited, picking her head up.

Jackson was startled at first but quickly nodded. "Yeah of course..." He hesitated, "What about Charlie Chaplin over here?"

Amity rubbed her eyes in exasperation. How Jackson still had it in him to joke was beyond her.

"He's uh... He should stay here." Amity decided. Jackson nodded in agreement.

The pair got up to pack their things. Amity kept her head down the whole time. Sharing a space with Jackson was awkward, to say the least. There was once a time where neither of them would have blinked at the idea, but things were different now.

It didn't help that Amity didn't have a clue where they stood. Were they friends? Acquaintances? None of those felt right. They still hadn't talked about all the missing time. Jackson Witman, NFL quarterback, and international playboy were not the same as Jackie, the gangly and awkward boy she had grown up with. She didn't have the words to describe what she was feeling.