James A Moore

Sqerm


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“Not exactly. I used to play with my uncle, and after years of playing against him, I finally began to best him. But my uncle told me that I would not be a master until I completed this puzzle. He said that from this position, there could be a checkmate in one move.”

      Sage stared at the chessboard. The chin rubbing gradually ceased. “What were the parameters?”

      Johnson looked at Sage as though he had just channeled Uncle Mike. There was a white rook on H1, a white king on E1, a black king on C1, and a final white rook on A2.

      “Checkmate in one move. I have looked at this for years,” Johnson said. There was a tinge of sadness in his words.

      Sage stayed quiet and slowly began to grin. “Uh-huh…what else do you remember?”

      “He did say that the king hadn’t moved.”

      “I see…,” said Sage, still reviewing the board.

      “See what, Professor?” asked Johnson.

      “The answer,” Sage said quietly.

      Growing impatient, Johnson said, “Well, what is it?”

      Sage points at the rook on H1. “Castle.”

      “Professor, it’s called a rook.”

      “No,” said Sage, smiling slyly. “Your move is to castle.”

      Staring at the board in amazement, he slowly picked up the white king and moved it to G1 and placed the rook on F1. “Checkmate. Damn.”

      Sage stood, widened his smile, and began his exit.

      “What kind of professor are you?”

      Sage, avoiding the question, said, “Nice try, Detective.”

      “See you soon,” said Johnson, somehow sounding thankful.

      “Maybe…” whispered Sage as he completed his exit.

      Johnson returned to his desk, still a bit amazed by Sage’s deciphering of the puzzle. He unlocked and slowly opened the top drawer. Within it lay religious medallion on a thin gold chain. It was composed of an unusual type of stained glass and was green and red. He slowly closed the drawer and locked it. He pulled on the drawer to ensure that it was locked just for good measure.

      Chapter 11

      Sage sat in his car and exhaled deeply. He shut the door and took note of the pressure change in his ears. The warm air from the cabin filled his lungs, and his chest swelled. It was hot. He started his car, and it softly growled to life and then purred quietly. He activated the screen on his phone and checked the time. He was late. Damn, thought Sage. He scrolled through his contacts, selected a number, and put the phone to his ear. The car had not yet cooled down, and the temperature was warm. Sweat developed between the phone and his face as he waited for the full effect of the air conditioner to kick in.

      Someone answered on the other end; the conversation was short, and his counterpart seemed somewhat cooperative.

      “Can you cover for me? I know, I know. Thanks. I’ll catch you soon. I owe you one.” Sage hung up and peeled the phone from the side of his face. He stared at the phone’s patina of sweat, wiped it, then placed it in the cup holder, and drove off. Sage had gone right brain again, and this was not abnormal to him. He soon arrived at his residence. The car slowed, then stopped, and was shifted into park. He was now enjoying the full effect of the air conditioner and hesitated to get out of the vehicle. The air conditioner was a great weapon against the Phoenix sun. He picked up his phone and sent a text to Parker.

      Any luck?

      Sage gathered his belongings and headed inside. He opened the door to his home and slowly pushed it open. The air conditioner was pumping out cold air, and he paused under a vent to enjoy the breeze as he entered. Once inside with the door secured, Sage dropped his gear, removed his shoes and placed them with the other shoes in his living room, and headed to his office. This routine was familiar to him, and there was an order to things.

      He sat at his desk and turned on his monitor and soon began searching the web. During his search, he came across information on a murder on a national news website. To get a better look, he leaned closer to his screen. He sat back and frowned. He flipped his phone over and entered the security code and activated the hands-free option.

      “Call Parker,” he said.

      Parker answered immediately. “Hey, Sage,” Parker spouted.

      “Hey, Parker. Any luck?” asked Sage.

      “Doing a deep dive on the web. Still compiling data. I should have something in a bit,” said Parker.

      There was some light beeping and clicking in the background. Parker was a great multitasker, and he was hard at work.

      Parker continued, “I am building a database that should compile stats and cross-reference similarities, commonalities, anomalies, and so on.”

      “I know, Parker, you got this.”

      “What’s going on in your world?” said Parker.

      “Just the meeting with Detective Johnson.”

      Parker’s voice changed to an apologetic tone. “Yeah, sorry about that. Any news?”

      “Not yet. I get the feeling that he might be dragging his feet. Or perhaps he knows more than he is telling me,” added Sage.

      “Why do you think that?” asked Parker.

      “Just a gut feeling…and you know…they have nothing, I mean nothing. How can they have nothing? I think Detective Johnson…”

      The doorbell rang and put a pause in the conversation.

      “Parker…wait one…,” said Sage.

      “No worries,” replied Parker.

      Sage darted to the door and slowly, cautiously opened it. There was no one there. Sage’s body automatically shifted to alert mode. He looked left, right, and then down. At his feet lay a yellow envelope with no markings. He picked it up and began to visually inspect it. In his excitement and curiosity regarding the inspection, he had forgotten that Parker was on the phone. Parker snapped him out of his phase.

      “What is it, bro? What’s going on?” asked Parker.

      Becoming cognizant of the phone in his hand, Sage replied, “An envelope.”

      Parker excitedly asked, “Like delivery service or tradecraft?”

      “Tradecraft,” replied Sage.

      “It doesn’t smell explosive, does it?” said Parker.

      Sage, being amused by the comment, replied, “No.”

      Doing his best to keep his excitement in check, Parker pressed, “Well, open it!”

      In a manner that was more like shushing than excitement, Sage said, “I am, I am.” Sage opened the envelope to reveal a flash drive and a piece of round, thin, shriveled leather with what looked like a tribal marking tattooed on it. The last item was a note that read: “Stay focused, stay safe.”

      “Uh…Parker…” Sage mumbled cautiously.

      Parker was excited and could barely contain himself. “Yeah? Don’t keep me in the dark.”

      “How’s the database and research coming?” asked Sage.

      “Nearly done with the new search engine. Still compiling. Are you second-guessing my alacrity?” said Parker, half teasing.

      “Of course not,” retorted Sage. “You’re one of the few people I still have in my circle of trust. Let me send you something,” he said.

      “Okay. Did you really just say circle of trust?” teased Parker.

      Sage snapped a picture of the leather and texted the photo