"Why don't we take a picture before you leave?" Sarah suggested to her brother.
"Sounds like a good idea." Sam walked over to the Uber driver, who was very accommodating so far. "Would you take a picture of us, please?"
Sam handed the disposable camera and smartphone to the driver and then got in line.
"Give a big smile for the camera!" Max tried to get his pouting daughter to smile.
"Don't worry Maxine, uncle Sam will come visit you." He gave his niece an awkward thumbs up and smile. He had tried to give her a wink as well but found himself unable to multitask everything in his body.
His sister and niece started laughing at him, even Max was grinning at him.
"Don't worry about your uncle. He's a dork. He will be back sweetie."
"Okay." The little one of the group had finally gotten out.
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Sam had enough time to get his photos developed. The one he had taken with his family brought a smile to his face. Also the text messages and photos being sent from his sister, who absolutely needed to share sleeping pictures of her daughter to him.
[Give me a call if you can when you land.]
[I will. Should arrive by the time you wake up.]
[Take care and love you.]
[Love you too sis.]
It was getting late and his almost six hour flight was being boarded. Grabbing his carry on, he wheeled his way onto the airplane. First class awaited him with wide open arms. No one else was there. But there were about twenty other people that had been waiting for the flight. Mostly older folks getting ready to migrate south for the coming winter.
Although they were a little early. It was the end of September and he was going to Florida to get settled in. He needed to explore and discover. Watch and examine human interaction in a bustling city. Of course he could enjoy himself at the same time.
Sam never minded the heat. He greatly enjoyed his life in Montana, but it rarely got to the temperature he really enjoyed. Living in a mountain town, it was colder there on a daily basis than most.
It helped him develop a fit lifestyle. Less oxygen in the air made it easier for him to breath, to run. He did enjoy a good run. It made it easier for him to think.
As an author and illustrator for his own children's books being able to think through the flow of the book makes the whole process easier. They aren't the most exciting plots to write about, but his art is his main money maker. He would think about it that way when making a joke to his sister, but he really did enjoy drawing. The detail he could get by studying the scenery just outside his home made his art stand out close to the top. His biggest mentor and inspiration when he was growing up was Bob Ross. A painter and master of his craft. Like him, Sam wanted to do just that.
Bob Ross was also the reason he wanted to stick with children's books. It gave him pride to help kids grow up, even at a young age himself. Before he got into school, as he was homeschooled until Sarah was grown up to go herself, he had to take care of her. Cuts, bruises, food, water, toys and books. He kept her safe and bought time with her until their parents came home. It was fulfilling and he wanted to explore that in his future.
Which he did as a children's book author and illustrator. He made a lot of money. Some of his more off brand and using mature themes, like growing up, did really well as well. Enough that he could support Sarah and her family if they need and himself at the same time.
Now there were a few reasons for him to travel to Florida. One was the heat and vacation destination it was in his mind. Although that was a mere surface level thought that he would just tell his sister for some fun. The second, but main reason was that he needed time away. His father had just passed and it took a lot out of him. Running wasn't clearing his head like he wanted and he lost all his inspiration for his books. It was the same way when his mother died when he was just ten years old. Blood clot in the brain and it had been sudden too. No one knew until it happened. Sam's life spiraled from there until his dad took his sister and him on a road trip. Now his final reason was to get more inspiration. A new place and new people would offer him… well something new. That was what he needed.
So he rented this apartment in Miami. Expensive, yes, but it was nothing to him. Even if the building was old, the amenities were top tier. Not even his wallet minded. Sam was thankful that his hard work paid off for all of these years.
However Sam didn't want to treat this as a vacation. To him this was work. So he wanted to do something that would help him with his vague idea of what he wanted to explore. His goal was to help children. To help them grow and make decisions. To help them be independent. It was something he had done early on, which his father hated he had to go through, but he found strength in it. It wasn't 'losing my innocence' or 'growing up too fast'. Sam enjoyed it and he carved a path to his future.
This vague idea where to start came with that in mind. Helping. What kind of profession helps people? Firefighter, Police, Doctors. Now he didn't want to just interview people, but to see what they see. Now he couldn't become a doctor in a short time, policeman or firefighter. Even the conflict alone scared him and the things they face. So he got a part-time job as a janitor. There he could see what he wanted to see, while focusing on something simple.
Movies and Tv shows have shown how… unreal they can be, but most of that comes with the story. Something he knew about as an author. Dealing with the suspension of disbelief can be quite crazy. When looking for an opening, he found a part-time position at the police station. Miami-Dade Police Department.
Now when researching that place he found it funny when the internet brought up an old show. He laughed when he read that as it brought back funny memories. Sarah had been looking for something cool to watch with their father. At that time she had heard from her friend that there was a show with a brother-sister pair, which she thought would be family friendly at the time. Sam didn't have much to do as he was between books at the time and his father had just finished dinner. So they sat down and started watching. It turned out to be a show about a serial killer. His sister wasn't afraid of it or scared, but she didn't watch it out of principle. Watching someone kill another person wasn't for her. Their father had better things to do at the time. However, Sam was interested in it.
As an author, an anti-hero serial killer main character was super interesting to him. The complexities involved in that show and how certain events just popped into place letting the main character get away with everything… The beauty in plot armor. Plus he liked how they handled it too. As when he did research, something he did regret, would be much more violent and hard to watch for anyone. Messy and disgusting were just 'kid' words for that type of stuff.
He watched the whole series, but hadn't thought about it since then. Plus a whole state full of serial killers would just be insane.
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Sam finally started falling asleep. The attendant had given him some water and since they had been in the air for a while, he was able to look up some random information on his phone to fall asleep.
When he awoke, Sam found a different attendant shaking him. He quickly thanked her and apologized. Grabbing his carry on and rushing out of the plane. Florida heat hit him and started making him tired once more. His beating heart was out pacing his eyes in activity. They were still resting helping the darkness wash over his mind. Sam found comfort in the heat and was going to fall asleep soon if he didn't get any coffee.
"Thank you." He said the barista. He had to thank whoever put this coffee place inside the airport.
The sun was still rising, but high enough where he needed to check the time. A two hour time forward wasn't great for his time table today. Reaching into his pocket he- "Where is my phone?" What he pulled out was a phone, but not his. A red and black flip phone, old, and very much not his smartphone. If there was one thing he was happy about was his job at a police station. If he couldn't get it back he would need to just get a new one. Canceling it would be easy and there wasn't a worry if someone stole it. It just had… oh he forgot to call his sister. She was going to be angry at him. It hasn't even been a week since their father died and with this… It was going to worry her.
Regardless he needed to get his luggage and get to his apartment.
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"Here is your key. Everything else you need is in this folder along with the extra one you ordered."
His day wasn't starting off great. His Uber never showed to pick him up, but it didn't matter without his phone. So he had to take a taxi just to get to his new home. The taxi did have a rank smell to it and that made it all the more terrible. Thankfully his coffee made up for it.
Passing traditional palm trees, going from the highway to main roads helped clear his mind from any of his sleepy brain. Sleepy brains can come back later.
So when he arrived at his destination, Sam had to double check if this was the correct address with the driver. The driver didn't like him second guessing his ability, so Sam just gave him money and got out.
The pictures made this place look top notch. High end, which he could see, if it was the early 2000s. The key he had gotten was not even an electronic key, but a physical key. Which was not what he had purchased when he talked to them before.
When he took the elevator, up to the eleventh floor, top floor, he opened the door to his room. It was missing some features he expected in any place, but it was fine. There was even a landline here, so that had to count for something. Leaving his things near the doorway, he went into the bedroom. Everything was already unpacked and ready to be used. Fresh, just like he wanted. At least that helped alleviate the trouble he had gone through just now.
Reaching over to the phone on the end table next to his bed, like he would find in a hotel, Sam first made a call to the airport. Just in case he had dropped his phone in the rush or if he left it on the plane. Now he already assumed someone stole it, because he had a different phone, so they must have used it as some switch.
The next call he made was to his sister. At least he would be able to explain everything to her and calm her if she had been trying to get a hold of him. Looking at the clock on the wall it was 8:27am. It just kept ringing. He was disappointed to find that it was an older version too, so he didn't have much confidence in it. So he tried again.
"The number you have dialed has not been recognized-" He just shut off the phone. Maybe since it was a long distance or something… Sam didn't know.
Sam walked into the kitchen area doing his best to unpack a bit and get settled in.
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The apartment had a good amount of space to it. A bedroom off to the left with a bathroom across the hall, a main living room area fully furnished with adjoining kitchen and full counter top and another separate room to store anything he needed on the wall to the right.
At that time he noticed that his TV and couch were not the ones he ordered. He started to think that this was the twilight zone and he had gone to the past or something.
His luggage was thankfully the same. It had his laptop and he needed that. Sure it was a bit dated itself, but it was a trooper. It had fought many battles itself. Survived being drowned, electrocuted during a thunderstorm, thrown and dropped - multiple times, and one time being stabbed as he used it as a cutting board.
"Maybe it's my old age…" At 40 years old, he could just be losing his mind. Pinching his arm, he found pain. "Fine… better get going."
He grabbed the picture he took just a couple hours ago, staring at it, then folded it into his wallet. Sent a quick email to his sister letting her know everything was fine. He got into a quick change of Florida clothing and walked out the door.
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With five minutes to spare he made it to his job. He passed a couple people on his way in. Sam looked towards the box of doughnuts that had been opened up. He wished he had something to eat earlier
Instead of continuing, he felt the phone in his pocket vibrating. Looking around he found a quiet place to answer the phone. At first he was hesitant to answer because he thought whoever took his phone had malicious intentions.
"Hello?" It was a question and not a greeting.
"Is this Sam Zillo?" A thick accent came off this man. Spanish or perhaps Cuban man was speaking. His voice was deep.
"Who are you?" Sam found his voice trailing in confusion and fearful.
"I'm Jorge Hernández. Calling you about the meeting today… Is this not Sam Zillo?" Sam looked to his phone and questioned how he had this number. "Hello?"
"Sorry. This is Sam. Is something wrong?" While he wanted to question many things as to what was happening, he might as well assume the worst right now. It would make it easier.
"No, just need to change our meeting location. Can you wait in the main lobby, I'll meet you there when you get here."
"I'm already here."
I'll be right there sir."
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Sam had a moment of time to himself before Jorge got there. He was hungry and now tired. Stressed out over the weird things that have been happening. He had no idea what was going on. I mattered to him and things were just out right not going his way. He hoped that he could at least get something out of today other than a nap.
"Sam?"
"You must be Jorge." Same voice gave credence to the man.
"Come with me please."
Same followed the older gentleman over to a supply closet. It was bigger than a closet, but this was more a location where he would be working, not having a meeting.
"Please sit."
Jorge had a black beard. That had been where most of his hair now resided on his head. Dark toned skin not just how he was born but from being close to the equator. The sun was a strong presence here in Florida and it was one of the things his lighter skin tone needed.
After a small greeting, with a shake of their hands included, Jorge got to explaining the job. Giving him the run down on his duties as a janitor at the "… Miami Metro Police Department." Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, but Sam noticed it quickly. Perhaps the man had been watching an old show.
The room they were in was where he would get his equipment from. Big enough for five people, so not really a closet, but Jorge called it that. A single light above them and a lamp on the desk with tools strewn about. Honestly the lamp was brighter than the bulb lighting the whole room. Vacuums, garbage bins and bags, tools and other appliances were labeled and located in easy to reach places on the shelving.
"You will be starting tomorrow, but if you want I can show you around?"
"Yes please."
Jorge had answered his question and was patient with him. Taking the tour was more about getting to know the guy for Sam as he wouldn't really understand much until he really got into the job. It was just an introduction to everything. The best part Jorge was professional, only making some personal comments here and there. He appreciated it.
"Around noon is when we try to take out the trash. That way we don't get in the way." Jorge gave a small chuckle and said something in Español, which Sam didn't know all too well.
They walked through the different departments of the building. Sam found it fascinating that everything was so densely packed together. It must be how they find the bad guys so quickly.
Reading headlines like 'Florida man…' over and over again made him feel like the police were competent. Thankfully those people were off the streets.
"This is the homicide department. For the most part since you are working four hour shifts, you would be taking the trash at the end of their desks and throwing it out." Which he expected going into this. Twenty hours a week wasn't much, but it gave him enough time to see the inside of how the police react. Even as he paid attention, a part of his mind nagged at him. Something again was wrong and familiar.
"Uhm.. Jorge?"
"Yes?"
"When you called me earlier, what number did you use?"
When Jorge said his phone number, the one connected to his smartphone, Sam's heart dropped.
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When he got back to his apartment, he called his cell phone five times with the land line. Five times the red and black flip phone rang. His mind couldn't comprehend how the… whoever changed his phone and knew his phone number.
His head was hanging off his bed, upside-down, looking at the phone. The mystery over his phone consumed his thoughts.
'Whoever it was, had access to my account. They would have to know my passwords to change it, but who and why?' He had his smart phone on the plane. Then when he got his coffee he found it gone. From when he fell asleep to then. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes. Sure he was tired… He should have just turned around and asked the attendants on the plane. He was the only one in first class so someone… unless it was the attendants. He didn't know either of the two on the plane, so what reason did they have to plan it out.
Unless he was overthinking it. Occam's Razor told him that the simplest theory should be the most obvious. Which would be he lost his phone until he took into account that the phone that was currently in his hand had the same phone number as the one that was now missing.
"Oh… what if someone cloned my phone? While I was asleep they could have just… but why go through all that trouble?" It only helped him that he had his phone, or at least the same one he could call too. Except, other than the number, there was nothing else. No saved numbers or pictures, which thankfully the phone was capable of. Not that it really mattered.
"Sarah…" Quickly focusing, Sam used the cell phone in his hands to call his sister.
"The number you-" He shut the phone right away, ending the call.
"What is going on!?"
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He needed groceries, so he went out for a walk. Two blocks away a store was open in the middle of the day. He grabbed all his needed supplies and went to the counter.
"We only take cash." The teenager chewed gum in his face.
"Do you have an ATM?" The boy pointed towards the machine answering his question.
Sam input his card into the machine. He quickly put in the amount he wanted to withdraw. $500 would be good enough walking around money and-
"Wha…" His words got stuck in his throat.
"Sir!" The teenager called out to him. "Can you pay for your items?"
"Ah… yes, just a moment." He said to a young man who very much didn't want to be where he was.
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"No… nothing else. I just wanted to confirm the amount." He flipped his red phone shut and continued to look at the number on his computer screen. "Fifty-eight million dollars… How? Did all the… well not so terrible things that happened today happen because of that."
'Way more than double my previous assets. Three? Four?' He couldn't even 'math' correctly. Gaining millions of dollars overnight is insane. He even tried calling Sarah, even Max as he couldn't get through to her. Neighbors and friends he knew. Some of the numbers worked, but the correct people never answered.
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Another walk later, the day turned dark. He found himself binging on some ice cream in front of the Tv. It was way too stressful today. A bunch of downs with a HUGE up. If this 'banking error' that happened in his favor was really real, then he wanted to share it with his sister and her family literally. This weekend he would fly back home quickly and check up on her. He already bought the tickets.
He skipped over the news and just watched tv. A bunch of kid shows helped his mind settle into this crazy day.
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Wiping off the drool, his alarm on the red phone. He went to the bathroom, got in the shower, took care of his hygiene with his new toothbrush, put on a set of work clothing and headed out.
8am to 12:00pm was his shift for days. A cup of coffee filling his cup smelled wonderful. He also got extra topping on it for no reason other than to use the extra money he gained to forget about yesterday.
Once he got to work, he met up with Jorge and two other janitors. Today he would be working with his lead.
"To start off we will be cleaning the windows. Tuesdays are window cleaning days. The night team has already swept and washed the floors, so we will start that just before noon."
Following the motions and rules laid before him, Sam got to work. He wouldn't slack off even if he had an ulterior motive. Right now it was getting the job done and once he settled in he would start researching how the police do their job. Getting to know them would be great.
If they trust him, then he can ask them questions. It might be kids books he writes but realism is something he tries to emulate. Sure there is an artistic-stylized look on the worlds and characters he writes, but keeping it grounded close to our own is what he enjoys.
There was this one story he wrote. A little girl was leaving her planet she knew, her home. All her friends were gone as her parents brought her with them. They travelled in space with many others, children included. There she learned to make new friends and accept that it was a part of life. Nothing can stay the same forever.
As he did research, scientists spoke of how space ships were designed. Zero gravity made it so every surface was a use. Ceilings didn't exist in space. Everything had a reason and purpose. So when he drew the ship and scenes, he made that a goal to add.
Now he did leave out all the bad stuff out of his book. Talking about radiation or how people use the bathroom in space was not something he had the intention to cover in a children's book.
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Time passed and his focus waned. They had started vacuuming empty rooms. Now there was something Sam spotted on the wall that caught his attention.
[Miami Metro Police]
'Isn't that from Dexter?' As he thought about it more, he found himself believing it to be correct. It was something he noticed and found interesting in his research.
Now he had heard that they were going to be filming for a short mini series to clean up the ending. He couldn't remember too much about what made it terrible, but it had left a bad taste in his mouth. That feeling was what he remembered.
"Jorge, are they filming here?"
"Huh?"
"Filming, for like a tv show?"
"What are you talking about?" The older man, his boss, was confused. He decided he would look it up when he got home. It wasn't the time to banter anyways as they would be cleaning up a meeting room that had been used.
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Just before he finished for the day, he collected the trash with Jorge. They had split up to give him time to learn the place on his own. It was Jorge's suggestion. He didn't have anything against it, but 'wouldn't it have been better to stay together?' Sam was the new guy so there was no reason for him to question the man.
As he took the elevator to the floor with the homicide department his brain started clicking. The wall had the same sign that it was [Miami Metro Police]. Everything he had seen in the show, glass walls, desks, even some of the actors were in front of him. He only started moving when someone needed to use the elevator behind him.
Sam moved over to one of the walls just in case he was in the way of a camera. He didn't want to be filmed at all.
'So they actually use the police department for the shooting location?' Those words came out of his mouth as he looked through one of the glass walls surrounding the place.
"Is everything alright?" Sam turned around to see one of the actors. Angel Batista with the goatee and fedora. They must be shooting some flashback as he was a detective.
"I'm alright, just a bit confused right now." He didn't want to bother them as they had a job to do as well. He must have gotten the wrong floor to the real homicide department. "You wouldn't happen to know where the homicide department is?"
"Ha… you got the right place." The little chuckle in the beginning before pointing towards the office space there. As he looked over it was exactly like that in the show.
"Ha ha… yea, but uh I mean the real one…" He trailed off as those words seemed to cause confusion in the actor whose name was not currently missing from his mind.
"Well this is the real one… Sam Zillo. Are you new here?" There were a few Spanish words mixed in, but he got the idea.
"Sam is fine. Just moved to Florida actually. Getting some work in to pass the time."
"Collecting the trash then, I won't keep you waiting. Let me know if you need help, I'm always here."
"Of course, thank you…"
"Angel."
"Yea…"
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Once he got off work, Sam decided to grab some lunch. There was a nice place nearby that he could get something quick to eat. Pork sandwich. The onions pulled the whole thing together.
But as he got home, his lunch couldn't really help him collect his thoughts. Research would be the best idea.
Going online he searched up 'Dexter' to see where they were shooting for the show. He didn't think it would be at a police station as that could hamper the ability of real officers to actually do their job.
Nothing came up on his search. Not even the show at all. He even searched up Michael C. Hall, since he was the main actor and nothing. Sam decided he would search himself up too and he found the internet connection working.
"Author… Illustrator… Normal. All my books are there. Autobiography- What!?" Under family he was listed as an only child of his parents. Checking different websites and the news interviews where he explicitly mentions his families… nothing. It was gone. Replaced with a question where the interview lady had asked about his favorite color. Which he very much didn't remember answering at all, yet his face lay there in front of him doing all the talking.
He quickly shut his computer and took out the photo in his wallet. Sarah, Max, Maxine and he were there standing. A couple bags in the background, plus their house. The house he stayed in for a night to say goodbye to his niece. Wood and stone adorned the home. It made it look like a cabin, but it really was a fully built modern house on the inside.
He grabbed his phone and called the local police station in Montana.
"A friend of mine, Max Hidder, I haven't been able to contact him or his wife Sarah. Would you be willing to do a wellness check on them?"
Eventually he was able to give them the address and his phone number to contact him. He may have exaggerated the last time he saw them just so he would be able to file a missing persons form. Just in case because whatever was going was getting way too surreal for him. With the ones he cares about getting caught in the crossfire being the main issue he had with it.
For now it was a waiting game. A game he very much had no intention of getting involved in.
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This is the first fanfiction I have written. While I would consider myself a noob at writing, I have written original works. That is what I enjoy the most and this is just a side project my mind decided would be a good idea.
I make mistakes, so if you see any, leave a message and I should get it fixed. Although it might take me a while, depending what I have to do. Let me know what you think.
My plan is to do the first season and then that would be the end. Unless my brain wants to do more or anyone who reads it likes it so much. Well see about that future stuff.
{Sorry about those commas.}