Good Chemistry

Good Chemistry

Jan Leeman’s childhood home, nestled near idyllic Tyler, Texas, no longer bustled with the voices of her family, pets and the noises of life. Its quiet air still held the odor of nonenal, that sweet enzyme that percolates from older people as they convalesce. She braced her five-seven, athletic frame against a door, donned shoes, and peeked into her mother’s room. A month prior, she’d traded goodbyes and in one afternoon, inherited the entire estate on her mom’s last breath.

Miss you, Mom—

Her phone chimed. A text from Detective Mark Hardison. “Hey, did you finish the forensic tests? They weren’t in my inbox. No rush. Just checking in.”

She replied. “Still waiting on final data. If you could light a fire under the medical examiner, I can wrap this today.”

I’ll miss working with Mark, too. If the internship paid anything, I might stay.No, I must start college. Mom would’ve wanted that, too.

She freshened in the hallway bathroom, strolled to the kitchen, checked her phone, and a mental inventory distracted her.

Atop the granite island awaited an early dinner feast of fish tacos, salad, sherry, and a charcuterie board. She meandered to each window and opened the blinds. In every direction, her family’s farm extended to the horizon. Natural light filled the room and made it feel fresh, open, and safe.

I love it here. But property taxes are just too high. Once I sell it, I can pay off Mom’s debts, cover my education, and still have a sizeable nest egg. This storm is almost over.

In the distance, a large flock murmurated in wild patterns against the dusk. Two rabbits bounded toward the far woods. A long driveway stretched for fifty yards to the nearest highway. An eighteen-wheeler passed. Beyond that, the elder Adam Paisley rumbled on his aging tractor.

I couldn’t always be here. I owe Adam a thank-you for watching out for Mom all these years—

She washed hands, removed her apron, straightened her print dress, and checked herself in the refrigerator’s hazy steel surface.

Good grief Jan, you look so tired. Take better care of yourself—

An old book rested on the countertop’s edge. Edgar Allan Poe - A Compendium. She replaced it on the wall’s bookshelf. “Nevermore.”

Doorbell.

Jan pulled a breath, strode to the door, and yanked it.

The statuesque Hanna Bartow beamed and blue eyes sparkled. “Jan! So good to see you.”

“You, too!” Jan offered a hug and waved her inside.

At five-foot-nine, Hanna’s tight-fitted skirt and blouse, a mane of strawberry blond hair, and long, sinewy legs had men’s heads on a swivel since before the two graduated high school.

Hanna spotted the food layout. “Oh, girl. You so knew I was coming!”

They each grabbed a tall chair and faced the other.

“I guess I’ve always seen this place in context of your mom.” Hanna glanced around as if surveying the interior. “Little rustic for a tech junkie like you.” She filled her plate.

“It’s up for sale,” Jan said. “Developers have hounded Mom for a decade.” She waved her hands. “In six months, all this will be under a concrete parking lot.”

“Wow, girl!” Hanna whistled. “You’re gonna make a killing!”

“You know it.” Jan smiled. “Starting today, in fact.”

“Last day of junior college was Friday.” Hanna pulled her phone and placed it face-down. “Headed for Austin.”

“Good for you.” Jan poured the sherry and filled her plate.

Hanna gulped the wine. Her brow furrowed and she stared at the glass. “Now, that’s the good stuff.” She snatched the bottle. “Amontillado. I’ll sip this a little slower. Where’d you get it?”

“In the next county,” Jan said. “Had to order it. Spanish—”

“And sorry to hear about your mom,” Hanna said. “Don’t get me wrong. But now you’re free.”

“Yeah,” Jan said. “Silver lining, I guess.”

“Didn’t you just get back from a trip?” Hanna bit a large chunk of taco.

“Yeah, my mom paid for it, all expenses, first class,” Jan said. “Because she knew I wouldn’t. Anyhow, it was great. Had to wrangle visas through the Chinese embassy and all. But I visited the Terracotta Soldiers, the Great Wall, and hiked the foothills in Tibet.”

“Good for you,” Hanna said. “Sounds so exciting.”

“The crevasses in Tibet.” Jan rolled eyes. “Are so deep, if you fall into one, nobody comes for you. It’s too dangerous. Not just for the rocks, but the predators.”

“Wow.” Hanna’s eyes widened. “Important safety tip.” She pulled a sip. “So, what’s new with you?”

“Jack and I will be in Nacogdoches this fall.”

“Good — for — you!” Hanna beamed. “It’s the oldest city in Texas, you know.”

“And the best AI school in the state.” Jan sipped.

“I’ll miss you,” Hanna said. “We always had such good chemistry.”

Chemistry? Jan’s gaze floated to the cabinets. “Yeah, I agree. Chemistry is a good word.” Jan pulled a pad computer between them and tapped it. “Check these images. From all over the world. This couple used AI to put them into the photos and even made videos of them at restaurants, beaches, shopping. A whole fake experience.”

“Why have a fake memory,” Hanna said, “of a place you’ve never been?”

“Here.” Jan tapped a video. Two people strolled a boardwalk and traded their camera. “This scene never happened. The places and people are real but the experience is AI-generated.”

“Exactly,” Hanna said. “Like their friends won’t know it’s fake.”

“Hilarious.” Jan slid the computer away.

“How are you and Jack?” Hanna popped her eyebrows.

Jan tensed.

The sheer nerve of her—

“He’s the one, Hanna.”

“Oooh, sounds serious,” Hanna chuckled. “Good for you. Seems You’ve had a string of—”

“Not this time,” Jan said. “Speaking of which, Joey Harmon was at the courthouse yesterday.”

“In trouble?”

“No, he’s a security guard,” Jan said. “We caught up.”

“You guys argued a lot,” Hanna said. “Bet you’re glad it’s over.”

“With your help, of course.” Jan forced a smile.

“Glad I could help,” Hanna said. “Easy kill, so to speak.”

“And Nick Weston,” Jan said. “At the supermarket with his new wife.”

“Yeah, he and I had a thing,” Hanna said. “Seen their new house? My boss lives in the same neighborhood. Place musta cost a couple million easy.”

“I’ve seen photos,” Jan sipped the sherry and swallowed hard.

“Not much of a lover, though. Not like Jack, according to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You joked about his big personality,” Hanna said. “Clearly a sexual innuendo. Nick — uhh — didn’t have much of a personality that way.”

“Wouldn’t know,” Jan said. “Never got that far.”

“Didn’t miss anything,” Hanna said.

“So I dodged a bullet?” Jan bit the taco’s corner.

Okay, Jan, gather your emotions and focus. This news doesn’t change the mission — it justifies it.

“So can you explain something?” Jan pulled the computer’s corner.

“Shoot.”

The screen showed a video of Hanna in a home’s entryway, clearly the fish-eye view of an outdoor security camera.

“Last month,” Jan said. “You paid a visit to Jack’s apartment.”

Hanna froze. Like Jan had whacked her with a board. Her expression hardened as though her brain was on fire.

Hanna finished her sherry in a gulp. “I was looking for you—”

“Why?” Jan said. “Weeks before this, we both attended college entrance training and we joked about you getting your test before me. But that day, I was at the testing center. All day.” Jan tapped the screen. “And you knew it.”

“If I knew it,” Hanna said. “Why would I come to Jack’s looking for you?”

“Dressed like a party hooker?” Jan zoomed the screen. “Where would you and I go in those clothes? In the middle of the afternoon?”

“I know where this going,” Hanna said. “And you’re wrong. You and Jack havea good thing and I would never interfere. Not for the world.”

“Did you hope Jack would keep it to himself?” Jan said.

Hanna swallowed. “Well—”

“Let’s play the audio.” Jan activated the video.

Hanna’s tinny voice said. “If you and Jan ever have an argument, you can always crash at my place.”

“An argument.” Jan paused it. “Crash at your place?”

“It was a joke,” Hanna said. “Surely you don’t—”

“Didn’t imagine that about Joey or Nick, either,” Jan said. “And I didn’t forget about Mike, Rob, and Jimmy? We had arguments and the next thing I know, they’re with you.”

“But you argued all the time—”

“So, arguing isn’t a part of a normal relationship?” Jan said. “Nobody gave you permission to steal my boyfriends.”

Hanna tensed. “I was just trying to help—”

“No,” Jan said. “You were just being you. And you’ll always be you — wherever you go.”

“What does that mean?” Hanna’s gaze snapped to her phone. “We’d better call it. This conversation—”

“Is heading downhill?” Jan said. “For one of us, anyway.”

“I should go.” Hanna moved her head side to side, painted with confusion.

“Before you do.” Jan tapped the computer again. It showed a photo of a sexy Italian man, long locks, muscular body. “This is Paulo Bandani. His father’s an entertainment magnate worth two billion dollars. He travels wherever and with whomever he wants.” She tapped the screen and Paulo animated. “Look at that smile.”

Paulo held his camera phone overhead and walked across a piazza to a woman on a bench. “Hello everyone.” Paulo’s entire persona radiated joy. “I’d like you to meet someone special. This is Hanna.” The woman turned toward the camera.

“That’s me.” Hanna’s eyes widened. “How did you—”

“The wonders of AI,” Jan said. “You and Paulo will hob-nob across Europe, Italy, Greece, the Mediterranean, for the next eight months.”

“I’m going to college—”

Jan leaned into Hanna, teeth clenched. “You are not.”

Hanna cocked her head like a curious dog.

“You’re on whirlwind romance with a billionaire’s son.” Jan forced a bright smile. “And these images will pump into your social media stream daily. You’re having the time of your life.”

“Except it’s all fake.”

“All the way to the end.” Jan slid the images to one of a snowy mountain. “This is Tibet. You’ll hike these foothills. You and Paulo will disappear. Your social media will go static.”

“Now, you’re creeping me out—”

Jan leaned back and crossed her arms. “Can you imagine your parents? Sending one search party after another?”

“Paulo’s dad would investigate—”

“You don’t get it,” Jan said. “Paulo is fake, too.”

“What am I saying?” Hanna shook her head. “I’m not going there!”

“Exactly,” Jan said. “They’ll never find you, either.”

“I’m not following,” Hanna said. “Why would I agree to this?”

“Agree?” Jan slid the computer aside. “I don’t expect you to agree.”

“Then why talk about it?” Hanna said.

Jan rose, strolled behind Hanna, and pulled a carriage free from the wall. “I used this to get my mom around.” She pushed the carriage into Hanna’s back.

“What’s — happening?” Hanna glanced to each hand and back to Jan. “What’s wrong with — my arms?”

The carriage’s overhead rack had a sling harness on a cable. Jan lowered it,wrapped Hanna’s torso, and turned a crank. The line tightened and hoisted Hanna off the chair.

“It’s a neural paralytic,” Jan said. “In your wine glass. Your arms and legs won’t obey you now. Like what was happening naturally to my mom all that time.”

Hanna’s eyes welled. “What’s this about, Jan?”

“It’s about your whirlwind vacation with Paulo.” Jan cackled, pulled the carriage to the room’s center, scurried to the stairwell, dragged a long plastic tub, situated it under Hanna, and lowered her into it. “There we go.”

“What’s happening?” Hanna blubbered.

“I’m a problem-solver.” Jan unhooked the harness and rolled the carriage aside. “Not to worry.” Jan opened two cabinets and pulled eight two-gallon jugs. “Got this idea from Breaking Bad. But I found out there’s a better chemical than what they used for melting a body.”

“WHAT?” Hanna shook her head. “Melt — MY body? That’s your plan?”

“Making a killing,” Jan said. “And all that.”

Hanna swallowed. “Oh, crap. You’re serious—”

Jan pointed to Hanna’s body. “The paralytic?”

“You’re not that stupid,” Hanna said. “You won’t get away with this! My parents—”

“Will search for you in Tibet.” Jan mounted the stool and bit a large chunk from her taco. “Eight months out.”

“But online interaction,” Hanna said. “They’ll figure out—”

“The AI will mimic you,” Jan said.

“No, no—”

“They’ll be happy for you,” Jan said. “And they know how impetuous you are. This totally fits your personality. And all this magic runs on a server in Singapore, untraceable to me.”

“When my cell phone pings stop—”

“I can spoof your phone into any tower I choose. All part of the illusion.” She held the phone to Hanna’s face. “I’ll clone it so I don’t need the original.”

Hanna’s eyes lit. “And my car?”

Jan opened a drawer and produced a stretchable face mask, pulled it over her head, adjusted it, and added a strawberry-blond wig.

With every moment, Hanna’s eyes widened as if they would pop.

“Now I’m you,” Jan said. “Every street cam will see you drive to the airport.” She pulled the wig and mask away, shook-out her hair, and pulled another mask. “And this person will leave in a cash taxi.”

Hanna’s head tilted, expression incredulous. “You’re smart enough for the perfect murder now?”

“Murder in a small town is only less worse than a big city,” Jan said. “The first doesn’t have the resources and the second is overwhelmed.”

Hanna’s head snapped down as if realization struck her like a lightning bolt. Her face scrunched. “Right.”

“Nobody found blood or body here.” Jan pulled a cheese square from the board. “No body, no crime.” She swallowed. “It’s a thing.” Jan rose, raised her arms, and turned. “Time erodes a crime scene. By the time you disappear in Tibet, this crime scene will be under concrete.”

Hanna’s gaze locked with Jan’s as if her mind was on overdrive. “So just kill me. Why all this drama?”

“So you know what came for you,” Jan said. “When it came.”

“Listen to you,” Hanna said. “Like you’re a movie villain.”

“Oh, it’s important,” Jan said. “I read somewhere that revenge isn’t complete unless the target knows who’s avenging and why. And — I gotta say, this conversation is pretty cathartic.”

Hanna stared at her own lap as if considering her fate. Her gaze raised to Jan. “You’re so evil. How did I ever call you my friend?”

“I thought the same of you.” Jan said. “While I planned all this.”

Hanna’s knees buckled and she slid flat into the tub. “Why do I deserve this?”

“You’ve ruined lives.” Jan finished her taco. “Like a serial killer who lops off the limbs of her victims and leaves them alive.”

“All those men wanted me,” Hanna said. “I’m a beautiful woman. Nothing wrong with that.”

“All I see is ugly,” Jan said. “Ugly to the bone. If you hadn’t interfered with Nick Weston, I’d be living in that multi-million-dollar estate right now.”

“Fine.” Hanna locked gaze with Jan. “I know men can’t resist me. I offer everything they want. I’m the very definition of wicked.”

“There you are,” Jan said. “I knew you couldn’t help — being yourself. You just need a little incentive.”

Resolve set in Jan’s soul. Like a peg in a notch.

Yes, I’m doing exactly the right thing—

“Why didn’t you push back on me then? When it counted?” Hanna wheezed and coughed. Her insides seem to buck and resist.

Jan tapped her phone. “About five more minutes.” She strolled to the far window. Afternoon sunlight always gave the land character. Different shades and shadows on the hills. More dramatic as the sun lowered.

Today the sun sets on my pain and its source. How did such a parasite get attached to me? I feared this action would change me. Convert my mind to something dark. But the clouds are already parting.

“I’m sorry,” Hanna said. “For everything.”

“You say you’re sorry now.” Jan turned to the window. “Not when it counted.”

“Make it sound so dark,” Hanna said. “Seems like — even you could cut me some slack.”

“One sip of sherry sealed your fate,” Jan said. “The chemical is irreversible.”

Hanna seemed to absorb these words like accepting her own death. Silence filled the room.

Jan turned and immersed into the dusky horizon, reddened hues and shadows, worthy of an artist’s canvas. From behind her, Hanna’s reflection emerged on the glass.

“You poisoned me,” Hanna said. “Coward.”

“Have fun in Europe with Paulo.” Jan said.

“Bite me.” Hanna’s head rolled to the side, her body relaxed, breathing stopped.

Jan folded her arms, turned, strolled to the tub, checked Hanna’s vital signs, and sighed. “I know you can still hear me. You said something about our chemistry. I guess chemistry will be the last thing between us.”

Jan gathered Hanna’s phone, handbag, plate, and utensils and laid them on her chest. She snapped utility gloves over her hands and emptied the acid into the tub. The liquid covered all but Hanna’s upper third. Jan pulled the gloves, draped them over the tub’s side, and returned to the window. A wonderful, ambient closure to the most beautiful day of her life.

Free of her family’s baggage.

Free of this alien spawn that had wrecked her existence.

Not to worry, Jan, most of your life is ahead of you. Your best life is yet to come. This was all about cutting losses, like sawing off a gangrenous limb so the body could survive.

No, it’s not like that. I’m fully intact. This was like being chased by a predator and I beat it, trapped it, and killed it.

Now, the forest is mine.