Satyr Play

He led them inside the building, which was brightly lit with lights they'd strung up. They crossed a wide, empty space to the entrance to a stairwell. Harmon noted how clean the floor was. They descended to the basement and saw another pristine room. There was an opening in one wall that looked like it might have had a door at one time but was gone now. Beyond the doorway, they could see the floor to the room was mostly missing, as was the ceiling.

As for signs of explosives, there were none. In fact, the walls were in good condition. No scorch marks, chipping, holes, or cracks that one might expect after an explosion large enough to blow out a ceiling and floor.

"You guys do quick work!" Morris said.

"That's just it. It was like this when we got here. Someone cleaned this room, the room above, and the main floor leading out. Even the debris down in the pit was hosed down with a power steam washer. It was still a little steamy when I arrived."

They saw a ladder leading down into the rubble-filled pit below the missing floor. In the far corner, they saw an opening to a sewer.

There was a team working on welding new rebar in place to rebuild the floors.

"According to the report, the floors just fell in last night. Wouldn't a safety inspector have to inspect the building and sign off on it before it could be fixed?" Hillsdale asked.

"I got the inspector's certificate. I wouldn't send my crew into an unsafe worksite." Reggie insisted. "The building is sound. It's built like a bunker! That's what makes this so weird! I have no idea how these two floors failed so spectacularly. The damage is so localized!"

The cops looked around, but aside from the obviously missing floors, they could see no evidence of what caused the failure.

"Who ordered the repairs?" Harmon asked.

"I'd have to check the work order. It's in my truck. I think the company was Ulysses something. The check came from a numbered company, and it was good. We were paid in full to do an expedited repair. Replace two damaged floors," Reggie explained.

"Let's go look at that work order," Harmon suggested.

They made their way back outside, and Reggie pulled the documents out of the cab of his truck. "Yeah, here it is. Ulysses Global Investments." He handed the work order to Detective Harmon, who added the name and address to his notes.

"Are we okay to continue working here?" Reggie asked.

"Is there going to be access to the debris at the bottom when you are done replacing the floors?" Morris asked.

"Yeah."

Morris looked at Harmon, who nodded. He turned to the site foreman. "The crime scene, if there is one, was professionally cleaned. We may send some people to look for evidence in the rubble, but that's it. You can repair the floors."

With a nod to the site foreman, the detectives walked back to their cars.

"Mob?" Hillsdale asked the others.

"Possible, but it doesn't feel like their work. Everything is moving much too fast. Too efficient but there are too many loose ends. I don't buy the kidnapping victim's story about his escape. It's too clean," Harmon complained.

"Clean like the crime scene," Morris growled, and his partner nodded.

"We'll check out this Ulysses Global Investments tomorrow and confirm their connection," Harmon said.

"Hey, you guys keep me in the loop. I'm curious to hear what actually went down here," Hillsdale said.

"Sure, Ken! Have a good night. Say hello to the missus for me," Morris said, bouncing his eyebrows at the other detective as he leered.

"Yeah, just you never mind my missus. She's too good for the likes of you, Morris!" Hillsdale barked at the man with a grin.

They got into their cars and went their separate ways.

As he drove back through the Holland tunnel to the island, Harmon brooded over the weird direction this case was taking. He had a bad feeling about that. He glanced over at his partner, who was smiling out the window.

No doubt thinking about Ken's wife.

Lech.

Chapter 26

Stanley was relieved to hear from Camila in the morning that Mr. Zhou had successfully reached the Fae Council and the Hidden Races Council and arranged for both sides to hold off until a meeting on Monday morning. So, Stanley had the weekend to decompress.

He listened to and erased the messages in his voicemail. There wasn't anything he needed to do about them now. Felix would have reached Camila by now, anyway.

He spent the rest of the morning and afternoon connected to the office, catching up on some work. Reviewing the backup logs and debugging the trend analysis software for Mr. Constantin soothed his nerves with their mundane nature.

He yelped Eureka when he finally tracked down the errant bit of code responsible for the bad math. He put the fix in place and recompiled the application. Once it was in place, he sent a note to the leader of the Asset Management Team, letting him know it was fixed.

Glancing at the clock, he saw he had about an hour to get ready for Sandy's party, so he took a nice hot shower, groomed, and dressed himself in something nice. A black dress shirt and grey jeans.

He took the wine from the fridge. He'd put it in just before his shower as he'd read that the proper temperature for red wine was in the low to mid-sixties Fahrenheit. The bottles went into the carrying bag, and he also slipped the DVD into one of the empty slots in the bag.

After one final look at himself in the mirror, he grabbed his keys and phone and moved to his front door. He peered through the peephole to confirm the hall was empty, as he still carried a little bit of anxiety. He let himself out of his condo and locked the door. He heard the rattle of keys and turned to see his nearest neighbor locking up after herself.

In Stanley's nervous glance, his heightened perception of her flashed into his mind.

Her skin was palest white. Her straight, jet-black hair curled in to touch the base of her long, slim neck. Full sensual lips of deepest ruby and eyes so dark he swore they were all pupil. Her petite nose and high cheekbones made her eyes appear larger in her heart-shaped face.

She had to be at least five-foot-ten with a slim body. The smart, tailored black suit she was wearing just made her skin seem that much whiter. She had a red, open-necked blouse under the jacket, and the cuffs showed slightly beyond the jacket's sleeves. This drew his attention to her hands, which were gracefully slim, with long fingers and lovely nails matching the color of her lips.

He swallowed as she looked back at him. She seemed equally nervous, so he forced a smile onto his lips. "Hello."

"Hello," she replied quietly.

"I'm Stanley."

"Michelle."

"I just moved in not that long ago. You're the first neighbor on this floor I've met.

"I work nights. I should be going, or I'll be late." She nodded with a small smile and made her way to the elevator. Stanley joined her in waiting. They stepped inside, where she pressed the ground floor button, and he pressed four. She glanced at him, then down at the bag of wine.

He smiled. "I'm going to a friend's party."

Her eyes went wide as she looked at the number again. He realized there were probably few people from odd-numbered floors interacting with the tenants of the even-numbered floors. He sighed.

"Yeah, but they're good people," he said, and she looked closer at him in surprise.

The elevator stopped, and he stepped off. "Have a good night!" he said back to her, and she nodded to him as the door closed.

He hoped he hadn't offended his first neighbor.

Walking to Sandy's door, he glanced at his phone. He was a minute early. He stopped outside the door and fidgeted.

The door suddenly opened and Sandy was standing there with a surprised look on her face. "Oh! Hi, Stanley!" She glanced down the hall.

"Hi, Sandy!" he said. "You look very nice!"

She blushed and twirled her sun dress for him a little, and they both grinned. "Come in!" she said.

He followed her in and pulled the DVD from the bag. "I got the movie."

"Ooo! It's one of my favorites!" Sandy gushed.

He held the bag out. "I brought more of that nice wine, too. I chilled it."

"Thank you, Stanley. Come have a seat."

They walked into the living room and sat next to each other on the couch.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked gently.

"Much better, thank you! I just stayed inside and worked on debugging a program for work, and that was really relaxing," he said with a smile, and she giggled. "What?"

She held up her hands and shook her head with a smile. "If that's what relaxes you, good for you!"

The doorbell rang, and Sandy jumped to her feet and went to answer it.

Stanley got up as well and carried the bag of wine into the kitchen. He touched the bottles and wondered if they could use a little more time in the fridge.

He set the bag on the counter and heard a noise behind him. He turned to see a stranger dressed in a tan coat.

"AHHHH!" Stanley yelled and threw himself back against the far counter.

The stranger also jumped in fright. "FUCKIN HELL! GEEZUS, you fuckin' scared me! I almost dropped this!"

Stanley's heart pounded as he stared wide-eyed at the courier holding a crate against his chest.

"It's fuckin' heavy! Where am I putting it?" the man growled.

Sandy came around the corner to give Stanley a concerned look, then spoke to the courier. "Just put it on the counter there. Thank you."

The man set the heavy box on the counter, and with a final glare at Stanley, he left.

As Sandy went to lock up, Stanley turned to the sink and washed his hands. It gave him a chance to still their shaking.

"Stanley, are you all right?" Sandy said gently from the entrance to the small kitchen.

"I-I guess I'm not as all right as I thought," he said, facing the sink.

The phone rang, and Sandy answered it, keeping her eyes on him. "Hello?... okay, I'll buzz you in."

She looked back at Stanley. "The gangs arrived. Most of them, anyway. Vanna and Gary went upstate this weekend for a little couple's getaway."

"They're together?" Stanley asked, struggling to get back to a calm state.

Sandy smiled. "Yes, they've been kind of courting for a few years. They only recently decided to see if they could be a couple."

"That's nice," Stanley said with a smile.

The doorbell rang, and Sandy went to open it. Stanley heard the happy voices of Tish, Dayshia, and Roger, of course.

"We bringa da fooda!" Roger boomed in a terrible Italian accent.

They came around the corner and smiled at Stanley.

"Stanley! My man! Looking sharp!" Roger said cheerfully and loudly. He had two large insulated bags in his hands, which he carried in and put on the counter.

"Thanks," Stanley replied with a smile. "Something smells delicious!"

"Itsa spaghetti ala bolognaise anda garlica breada!"

"Someone, please stop him... or hit him. Either is fine," Tish groaned as she walked into the kitchen with two more bags. The small kitchen had reached capacity with three people, so Stanley eased out to move to the living room, where Sandy was speaking quietly with Dayshia.

"We have sorbetto for dessert!" Roger cheered, and Stanley grinned back at the man's enthusiasm.

He turned back and found his face planted in Dayshia's ample bosom as she gave him a firm hug.

He blinked in surprise, and his face flushed in embarrassment when she finally released him. "What— what was that for?" he asked, flustered.

"We're just concerned about you," Sandy said.

"Is someone going to address the elephant in the room?" Roger asked when he wandered into the living room with a serious expression.

Stanley looked at him with trepidation.

Everyone else just waited.

"What's in the BOX!?!" Roger whined, pointing at the crate.

It was Sandy's turn to blush. "Never you mind. That's just for me. I'll open it later."

Roger moaned in frustration while Tish and Dayshia looked intrigued.

Sandy waved her hands dismissively. "Let's just get dinner served before it gets cold."

Stanley was quite content to let Sandy keep her secret as he had one of his own that he could never share.

They got plates and served the spaghetti with a rich meat sauce. The garlic bread was hot and buttery, and they went quiet for a while.

Stanley brought the wine from the kitchen, and Tish cheered when she saw he'd brought more of the delicious red. A bottle was opened, and they all had a glass. He thought it went really well with the bolognese sauce. They consumed two of the bottles before they finished dinner.

The sorbetto was a cold, sweet, and delicious way to end the meal.

Once they felt stuffed, they all took their customary positions in front of the set and sipped at another glass of wine from the third and final bottle while Sandy got the movie playing.

Then, it was all Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. In his tipsy state, Stanley was mesmerized and completely taken with the story. By the end, a few tears rolled down his cheeks unnoticed by him, but Sandy and Dayshia, cuddled in on either side of him, watched with a smile.

When the credits rolled, Stanley looked to the others in awe. "What a lovely story!" he gasped.

Smiles were beamed at him, and Roger popped to his feet as he glanced at his watch.

"I hate to eat, watch a movie, and run, but I told some buddies I'd meet them for last call at a pub in my hood, so I have to skedaddle! Sandy, as usual, I had a lovely time... even though you never opened the crate. You still have time! I'll even help!"

"Goodnight, Roger!" Sandy said firmly.

"Fine! See if I ever disclose any secrets to you again!" he grumped.

"Is that a promise?" Sandy replied with a grin and got the tall man's dramatic look of anguish. Sandy got up and gave Roger a hug as she followed him to the door. He waved goodbye to the others and was gone.

When Sandy returned to the living room, Dayshia and Tish were standing next to the crate.

"You're not going to keep it a secret from us, are you?" Dayshia said with a grin.

Sandy's face flushed pink as she glanced over at Stanley, looking up at them from the couch.

Pitching her voice low, she leaned towards her two girlfriends. "It's about that recurring s-e-x dream I mentioned," she whispered.

"Oh my god! Now I have to see it!" Dayshia gasped, oblivious to Sandy's embarrassment.

Tish's eyes were twinkling with excitement as well. Sandy tilted her head towards the living room, and Dayshia snorted dismissively. "He doesn't know the context. To him, it'll just be art!"

"Should I leave?" Stanley said, picking up Sandy's embarrassment but not knowing the cause.

"NO! I mean, no, it's fine. It's just a sculpture I saw online and ordered. It caught my fancy," she said hurriedly.

Dayshia snorted as she'd heard about the dreams and knew it had caught her friend's fancy in a big way. She was dying to see this dream in three dimensions. She rushed into the kitchen and looked in the bottom drawer to get the screwdriver and a small hammer Sandy used to hang pictures. She held the tools up to Sandy.

"Fine!" Sandy said in exasperation, taking the tools from her grinning friend's hands.

They braced the crate as she pried open one side of the box.

Stanley was standing, watching the front of the crate slowly open as he sipped the remains of his wine. He was feeling a pleasant buzz and smiled at the excitement on their faces. The side panel suddenly fell away, and packing peanuts poured out of the box.

Standing inside was a two-foot-tall replica of Stanley... in Satyr form.

Stanley's last swallow went down the wrong pipe, then up his nose as he gasped and went into a coughing fit. Tish immediately came to his aid with some napkins and guided him to the washroom. He went inside and closed the door. He did his best to clear the wine from his lungs and nose and got his breathing under control. After a quick check, he saw he'd managed to miss getting wine on his clothes.

He looked at his bleary eyes in the mirror and pulled his shoulders back. Showtime.

Exiting the bathroom, he saw three different expressions from the three women. Tish just smiled as she looked amused. Dayshia's expression was thoughtful, as if she was trying to determine why he'd reacted as he had.

It was Sandy's expression that gave him pause. She looked... hurt. Defensive. He wasn't sure where that was coming from.

"My apologies, I swallowed the wine down the ol' windpipe," he said apologetically. He walked back to the open side of the crate and saw they'd brushed away the rest of the packing material. The statue was fully on display, including the oversized penis in full erection.

"What is it?" he asked, as it seemed like a safe way to start.

"It's a Faun," Sandy said, still a little defensive.

"Satyr?" Stanley blurted, unconsciously correcting her, then bit his tongue.

"Two names for the same thing, I think. One's Greek, and one's from the Romans," Tish replied as she admired the sculpture.

Stanley made a show of looking around at the other art in the room. "I didn't know you were interested in ancient myths?" he said with a voice he was sure sounded wobbly and thin. Thankfully, they either didn't notice or put it down to his earlier coughing fit as they all turned their eyes back to the sculpture.

"I think it's lovely!" Tish said.

"He's very... excited," Dayshia grinned.

Sandy looked unhappy or dissatisfied. "It's not... right."

"Oversized for sure," Dayshia agreed.

Stanley was looking at the sculpture, and the hair on the back of his neck was rising. He was seeing where the artist got it right... and wrong. It was a little mesmerizing.

"No, the horns. The sculptor got them wrong. They shouldn't be short and pointy like that. They should be like... like..." Sandy struggled.

"Ram horns," Stanley muttered in a daze, and three sets of eyes turned to lock on him.

Sandy took three quick steps and grabbed his arms as her eyes searched his. "YES! Yes, that's it! Have you seen it, too?"

Stanley blinked at her, cursing inwardly. "Seen it? It's a myth! They don't really exist!" he babbled.

"I know that! I know! I mean, where did you see a faun with the ram horns? I've been seeing him in my dreams almost every night for over a week! I need to know where I saw him originally!" she gasped as she clung to him fiercely.

"I-I don't—I can't recall," he stammered under her intense stare.

Her frustration boiled up, and she growled as she spun quickly to stare at the statue. Her long hair swung up and hovered like a slow-motion blonde cloud. Tish and Dayshia stared wide-eyed as the nimbus floated behind their friend's head. Wanting to hide its odd behavior, Stanley instinctively reached his right hand deep into the mass of rising hair as her friends yelped and grabbed his arms to stop him from touching what must be a huge static charge.

Instead of a snap, crackle, pop, or any other violent effect, the hair quickly coiled itself around his arm. A wave of delicious sparks shot up his arm and chased through every nerve. His head snapped back, his eyes closed, and his mouth dropped open as his face flushed.

Facing away, Sandy sucked in a quick breath and moaned as intense tingles cascaded from her scalp down through her body right to her toes. The image of the Satyr from her memory surged into her mind, and she gasped as she could almost feel his breath on her neck.

Tish and Dayshia were caught in the feedback from Stanley, and both felt their bodies flash through an exquisite bliss.

Sated, Sandy's hair relaxed and slid away from Stanley's arm, breaking the connection.

"Oh... oh my... god! What was that?" Tish sighed happily as the residual tingles faded slowly. She dropped her grip on Stanley's arm and rubbed at her tingling nose.

Dayshia pulled her hand back quickly from his other arm and looked back and forth between Sandy and Stanley in confusion. An image had flashed in her mind, and she was having trouble figuring out where it came from. She turned her head to examine the statue once more. She froze when she realized how much it didn't match the picture in her mind. She saw the essential wrongness of it.