Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life

– Mike Norland.

Chapter 9

– If this is your idea of a joke, Mr. Moreau, I can assure you that it’s not funny at all.

«Absurd! Some kind of madhouse! It can’t be!»

The usual pain cramped my whole body at the mere mention of Mike. I couldn’t get enough air, as if someone had cut off the oxygen. I didn’t see a single tear run down my cheek until it dropped onto my blue turtleneck.

– Do I look like a joker to you, Miss Spikes?

I felt like I was in a «Prankster» program, only that kind of you know, fierce. I could see how serious Mr. Moreau was when he talked about Mike. But how could anyone believe such a thing?

– I don’t know. But I’m not going to listen to this nonsense anymore. – I jumped up from my seat, intent on walking away from the man, but he got up, too, and grabbed my arm. – What?

– Go back to your seat. – Mr. Moreau gave me a stern order as he turned me back to our table.

– Don’t tell me what to do. Let me go!

– Only when you’ve relaxed and listened to what I have to say to you.

– Good… Great!

He let me go, and I sat in my seat.

– It’s a matter of principle, Miss Spikes. I wouldn’t have approached you otherwise.

I wanted to laugh in his face so he could see how absurd those words sounded.

– Yes, it’s the most important thing of all! And I was puzzled why you didn’t go to a private detective agency. And that’s right, who in their right mind would want to find a man who died more than a year4 ago.

Mr. Moreau sucked in a resounding breath.

– That’s what I thought too. But Mr. Norland is alive, and I can assure you he doesn’t have a scratch on him.

He must have been mocking me. How else could I show him that I didn’t like this conversation? Everything that was going on here was starting to piss me off. How could this man claim that Mike was alive when I was looking at his dead body with my own eyes?

– Apparently we are talking about very different people, sir.

– On the contrary, Miss Spikes.

I grabbed my head and said resoundingly:

– This is just absurd. Mike is dead! He’s gone! I was at the lineup and his funeral. I saw him! I saw his bloody face. And you! You’re telling me at this moment that he’s alive!? How can you believe that?

I could have been a little more hysterical, but I held on as best I could. I could feel the nausea coming on. I started to feel feverish and a little shivering. All I wanted was to end it all.

– I can substantiate this for you.

«Please don’t!»

– What for?

My voice trembled.

– Then Ms. Spikes that I need to find it as quickly as possible.

– I… I don’t understand…

When I touched the cup of tea, I almost spilled it on the table. I clenched my body and lowered my eyes, as the treacherous tears were ready to come out.

– Mr. Norland didn’t just trick you, and believe me, that’s just the tip of what he’s done. You’re the only person he trusted, which is why I came to you for help.

– It’s…“ – a tear fell down – „impossible! If… – another one – … he were alive, he would surely find me. We could have been together for the moment. He wouldn’t have stabbed me.

– I know. And yet he did it, Miss Spikes! Two days ago, I made some inquiries about his death, and almost everything cleared up.

I sniffed audibly and looked at Mr. Moreau.

– What specifically?

– About Mr. Norland and your father.

I almost clicked «Absurd!» once again. My rescuer turned out to be a really scary person who knew all my pain points.

– Dad? What’s he got to do with it?

– There’s no proof yet, but I think there will be soon. Your father may very well have helped Mr. Norland to fake his death. It’s a theory so far, but it makes a lot of sense.

– No, my father… What? He’s obviously not the best father in the world, but he wouldn’t do that to me.

Mr. Moreau pulled out a small envelope from an inside pocket and handed it to me.

– That’s all I have so far.

I took the envelope with trembling hands and opened it, pulling out some pictures. It took me a few seconds to recognize Mike. It was him, only he had a small beard and slightly lighter hair than when we were together.

– And what is that?

– Photos taken three days ago.

– Three… days? I don’t get it! Where was it made?

– Egypt. Mr. Norland has been there for a month, maybe more. My man is watching him all the time.

I stared at Mike’s smiling face again, and it ached in my chest.

«He’s alive. Mike is still alive!»