The Riddle of the Puzzler, Part 1
That's not a jigsaw puzzle.
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Part 1
Evelyn studied the names on the monument, the names of fifteen people who might still be alive if the rules of reality hadn’t changed.
Sierra Ramirez … Jonah Whitman … Cassidy Chen …
She never knew these people, but she often wondered if she had met any of them in passing or if she’d recognize their faces.
Mason Sullivan … Zoe Parker … Gavin Roberts …
The least she could do now was know their names. Carved into the obsidian obelisk at the center of Olympus City Memorial Park, they all burned through her retinas and imprinted onto her memory.
Cindy Roberts … Earl Hoskins … Diego Lopez …
She read the rest, taking her time with each name. Plenty of blank space remained beneath the fifteenth, to be filled each time a super-powered criminal, killer robot, or malicious monster killed someone. The smooth black surface always prompted Evelyn to wonder why she was still here, and why she hadn’t fled to any normal city. The super-criminals, robots, and monsters occasionally strayed elsewhere, but as far as anyone could tell, they all originated within the island of Olympus City.
A few of the names did sound vaguely familiar. Hadn’t she met a Blake Harper at one point? Or perhaps Evelyn had visited the memorial often enough that they became familiar. She took a few more steps down the brick walkway, in the hope that proximity might spark a specific recollection. All she knew for certain was that the first seven names had lived on the top floor of the apartment building that previously stood on this spot, until zombie unicorns struck. It was a miracle more people didn’t die that night. A limited miracle.
Someone else was visiting the park this morning. Evelyn recognized the petite brunette standing on the grass. They had acted together in The Reluctant Guest at the Aeschylus Theater the summer before last. Miranda Thomas was well over a decade younger, half a foot shorter, and enviably slimmer than Evelyn, but every bit her equal and then some when it came to acting.
Large, captivating eyes that could and did enthrall a full auditorium now gazed at the monument, which seemed to enthrall Miranda. At first glance, she hardly resembled the bubbly, ambitious young woman who had just graduated college when Evelyn worked with her. She retained her youthful appearance but, somehow, exuded so much more age.
“Miranda?”
The younger woman flinched. Evelyn smiled softly as she approached.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s fine.” Miranda laughed it off, sounding young and innocent. “You just rescued me from my own head. I was getting a little lost in there, apparently.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” Evelyn turned back to the monument. “Did you know someone?”
Miranda seemed unsure. “Not really, but I met a few of them, briefly.”
“I’m so sorry.”
A tiny head shake deflected the sentiment, and those large eyes, filled with concern, bore into Evelyn. “Um, did you know anyone?”
“No, just passing through.” Evelyn seized the brief silence to pivot to a lighter topic. “But I’m glad I ran into you. I’m loving those commercials. The Ice Screamer Fairy. You’re adorable in those.”
Miranda gave a modest smile. “Thanks. I know I wasn’t exactly stretching myself with those, but they were fun for a while.”
The past tense wormed into Evelyn’s ear. “Not sure if you’ve heard, but I’m the new artistic director of the Aeschylus. I’d love to get you back on the stage sometime. Unless you’d rather focus on film.”
That familiar, hungry look suggested Miranda was indeed open to returning to regional theatre. Something tempered the hunger, though.
“I would love nothing more. But …” The conjunction was, evidently, painful.
“But?”
Miranda turned away for a moment, eyes passing over the monument before returning to Evelyn. “My schedule’s very weird these days. I do want to get back on the stage, any stage, as soon as I get some things figured out. I really do miss it.”
“And the stage misses you.”
A scrap of litter caught Evelyn’s eye, easy to miss against the brick. It lay right at the base of the monument, which just seemed wrong.
Excusing herself, she stooped to grab the litter—a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, depicting part of a person’s ear.
Another one?
“What is it?” Miranda asked, coming up from behind, again appearing older than her years as she squinted at the piece.
“It’s a … puzzle.” Evelyn scanned the ground, finding nothing but clean brick pavers. “Just one puzzle piece.”
“You think that was left in honor of someone?” Miranda asked. “Seems random, but I don’t want to judge.”
Evelyn wanted to believe it was something like that. Two years ago, it would have been ordinary litter, nothing more. But two years ago, there wasn’t any need for a memorial here.
“As I was leaving my apartment building, I noticed another puzzle piece on the front steps. It was part of a face—possibly the same face.” The words, and whatever they suggested, immediately struck her as ridiculous. “Probably just a strange coincidence. We’ve certainly had stranger around here.”
Miranda gave a reassuring nod. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s all it is.”
Evelyn knelt to set the piece right where she found it. “Better leave it here just in case.”
Straightening up, she steered the conversation away from the unnerving puzzle coincidence and again pressed Miranda to keep an eye on upcoming auditions, should her schedule ever open up. Miranda promised to do so as they strolled through the park gate and onto the sidewalk.
“Well, I’ve got a lunch appointment to run to,” Evelyn said. “He’s probably already there waiting for me.”
“On time is late, you know.” A good-natured smile accompanied the reference to their former director’s favorite saying.
“So I’ve heard. Anyway, glad I ran into you. Keep in touch.”
“Absolutely. I’ll see you around.”
Hustling down the sidewalk, Evelyn tried not to think about the puzzle pieces, tried to dismiss the whole thing as just one of those weird Olympus City anomalies, plenty of which did not entail any life-and-death struggle. In any case, it almost certainly had nothing to do with her.
She entered the Deli of Demeter a few blocks down, and the scent of fresh sandwiches provided a welcome distraction. The lunch crowd hadn’t yet arrived, and neither had Ollie, which surprised her. Ollie Neal fully subscribed to the “on time is late” philosophy, and Evelyn was precisely on time.
She approached the counter and said hello to Sal.
The large man beamed, his girth an unknown blend of fat and muscle. “Let me guess—roast beef and lettuce on white?”
“It’s like you’re psychic.” The small joke left a bitter aftertaste as Evelyn remembered that psychics were technically possible now. “One of these days I’ll throw you off by ordering something different.”
“My menu and I look forward to it. But for now, I will prepare roast beef and lettuce on white.”
Evelyn checked the door. Still no Ollie.
“Hold off for just a minute, please. I’m waiting on someone—meeting with my new managing director. Should be here soon. Any second, really.”
“Yes, how is the new job?”
“Filled with drama, and unfortunately, it’s not all confined to the stage.”
After a little more chitchat, Evelyn slipped into a booth and checked her phone. No message from Ollie. No reports of any ongoing supervillain situation either, which was a relief.
Maybe he just isn’t that punctual after all.
“Evelyn Flynn! Mind if I join you?”
A man took a seat across from her, but he wasn’t the new managing director. He was the previous managing director. The one the board just ousted.
H. Bartholomew Bloman smirked at her. The stench of his gelled hair and ill-chosen cologne was slightly more welcome than the man himself.
Evelyn leaned back, mind and body preparing to combat the impending awkwardness. She affixed a pleasant, polite smile as her first line of defense. The board had fired him; the decision was not hers to make. No reason they couldn’t be cordial.
“Hey, Bart. I’m actually meeting someone for lunch.”
He absently fiddled with his cufflinks. “Right. My replacement.” Still smirking.
Evelyn cocked an eyebrow. “How would you—”
Bart tossed a tiny object onto the table. A jigsaw puzzle piece—part of an eye. The skin tone matched the other pieces.
“I don’t believe Mr. Oliver Neal will be joining you,” Bart said.
“What is this?” Evelyn said, pointing to the piece. “Did you leave those other pieces?” Quiet anger entered her voice. “Were you at my building?”
She turned to the counter, hoping to catch Sal’s eye. He was busy with a customer.
“You’re the one who infiltrated my home first,” Bart said. “Turnabout is fair play.”
“I had nothing to do with what happened. The board wanted new leadership.”
“You didn’t fight it, though, did you?”
No, she did not, because Bart Bloman was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Evelyn had heard about the complaints, not to mention the accounting anomalies.
Straightening her back, Evelyn shot him a hard look in the eye. “We shouldn’t be discussing this. It’s not appropriate, and it’s hardly professional of you to even bring it up. Ollie will be here any second now, and I don’t want you giving him a hard time.”
“I told you. He’s not coming.” The smirk expanded into a grin.
Evelyn stiffened, and her jaw tightened. Sal continued chatting with a customer.
“Tell me what you mean,” Evelyn said. “What did you do?”
Bart nodded at the puzzle piece.
The eye was so lifelike … and familiar.
“I’m not interested in playing games,” Evelyn said. “Tell me where Ollie is.”
Bart tapped his finger near the puzzle piece. “He’s right there. Well, part of him. I believe you’ve already found a few of the other pieces.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
A chuckle escaped his lips. “This is Olympus City, darling. Have some imagination.”
The partial eye was indeed familiar. Evelyn understood what Bart was hinting at, and the whole idea offended her rational intellect while also setting her hands to trembling. Such a transformation might have been possible now, for all she knew. In the present physics-defying reality of Olympus City, she never could tell whether she was being gullible or open-minded.
“Did you turn him into a … a jigsaw puzzle?”
Bart beamed with devilish pride. “I did. Yes. And if you want any chance of finding the rest of him, you’ll come with me. Quietly.”
Evelyn refused to believe it uncritically. She tapped into her phone.
“Yes, yes,” Bart said. “Check one more time. You’ll find no messages from him. But if you attempt to send any message …”
Bart picked up the puzzle piece and threatened to bend it. And she still hadn’t received any text or call from Ollie, who was now several minutes late.
Ollie wasn’t coming. She couldn’t deny the pit in her stomach.
“Can you reverse that?” Evelyn asked. “Can he … can he feel anything?”
“The process is reversible. As for the question of sensation …” Bart tossed the piece straight up and caught it. “I have no idea.”
Even if Ollie couldn’t feel anything now, the transformation had to hurt. Evelyn was sure of it. Olympus City’s strange nature could produce wondrous effects, but it could not eradicate pain.
Taking a slow breath, she put her phone away. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”
Bart stood up and extended a hand, as if to escort her. “Great. Then let’s go.”
She rose slowly. Bart wrapped a wiry arm around her, pushing her along.
Hardly turning her head, Evelyn cast a glance at the counter. She caught Sal’s eye for just a second before Bart steered her out the door and toward a black sedan parked along the curb.
“In,” he said, pulling the front passenger-side door open.
She got in and buckled up, heart pounding. Ollie’s name would not be added to Olympus City Memorial Park, not if she could help it.
Bart slipped in behind the wheel and slammed his door shut.
“Why are you doing this?” Evelyn asked. “Why couldn’t you just go somewhere else and start over?”
The question appalled Bart. “Because this is my home.”
He pressed a rag to Evelyn’s face, and she passed out.