by Zoe Arden
"Don't worry," Jaggers said. "I know how to keep a secret. What goes on at Standards is no one's business but Standards'."
"I'm so glad you see it that way."
"When the Council on Magic and Human Affairs came by once for a surprise inspection, I kept my mouth shut about everything. Everything. They left without even realizing there was a basement."
I forced the smile to remain on my face. "I'm sure Kip would be happy to hear that."
Jaggers leaned back in his chair then quickly sat forward again. He looked terribly uncomfortable and kept pulling at his collar.
"Now then, might I see your resume?"
I licked my lips, keeping the smile where it was. "Kip said I didn't need one. Tee hee." I giggled again and hoped it made me sound vacuous.
Jaggers looked at his hands. "I see. Well, under the circumstances... you're hired."
"I am?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
Jaggers looked up at me. "Can you start tomorrow?"
"S-Sure," I said. "Tee hee."
He rose and shook my hand again. "How's eight? We can make it later, if you prefer."
"Eight is fine," I said, still smiling and starting to feel silly for it. My heart was thumping.
"Great. Wonderful."
"Do I need to bring anything with me?"
"No, we'll have you fill out all the paperwork when you get here. Uh..." He hesitated then leaned close. "When you talk to Mr. Burch later, could you do me a favor and put in a good word for me? You know, tell him the interview went well and so forth."
"Sure," I said. "Happy to. But I wouldn't mention anything about it to him yourself, if I were you. I'm not sure I was supposed to tell you how close Kippy and I are. We're supposed to be strangers, remember? Tee hee." I covered my mouth with my hand as if that was the silliest idea ever.
"Strangers," Jaggers said. "I won't forget."
* * *
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
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"You did what?!" Lucy screamed at me then looked quickly around. We were sitting at a table in Coffee Cove, and no one was batting an eye at us. Thank the witches for silencing charms.
"How could you... what were you thinking?" Lucy yelled again. Her face was red, and her eyes had a crazed look in them, like she wanted to tie me up and cast some spells that would knock some sense into me. She pulled her long, black hair free from her ponytail, shook it out, then retied it again.
"I was thinking that if I got a job there, I might be able to figure out what's going on in the basement."
Logically, it made perfect sense. I knew Lucy saw that as well as I did. That being said, I also knew that my plan was crazy. If I got caught, I'd be in serious trouble. Just how serious I wasn't sure, but if even half of what Damon had said was true, chances were, I'd be fearing for my life.
Lucy was shaking her head. Melbourne was standing near the espresso machine. He kept glancing up and looking at us. He and Trixie were dating, and I began to worry that he might report back to her that I was up to something. Maybe I looked guilty enough that he didn't even have to hear what I was saying to know I'd done something my father and my aunts wouldn't approve of.
I was an adult, but they still treated me like I was a child. I supposed parents never stopped doing that no matter how old you were. Chances were that when I was fifty, my dad would still be treating me like I was ten.
Lucy pointed one finger accusingly at me. "There's something you haven't told me, isn't there?"
I cast my eyes away. She knew me too well.
"Come on," she said. "I'm not a dim-witch. You wouldn't take a job like this unless..." Her eyes lit up. "Unless you thought that there was something at the warehouse that might prove Damon's innocence. This isn't just a fishing expedition, you have something specific that you're looking for, don't you?"
I sighed and leaned in. Even though I knew no one could hear us, I wasn't about to take chances.
"You're right," I said. "There is something I haven't told you."
I filled her in on the mer-wolf creature that Damon had sworn he'd seen.
Lucy looked skeptical.
"I've never heard of anything like that."
"No one has," I said, "but that doesn't mean they don't exist. Damon's not the only one who's seen half a mer-creature."
"What do you mean?"
I told her what Robbie had said at the beach the other day.
"Half-merman half-dinosaur?" she said, almost laughing.
"Not dinosaur," I said. "Dragon. As in a Komodo dragon, not the kind from fairytales."
"Okay, assuming for one second this fishmonger saw what he thought he saw, what does this have to do with Damon's mer-wolf? They sound like two separate creatures."
"Yeah, but each creature was at least half merman. That can't be a coincidence. Maybe they're related."
Lucy shook her head, exaggerating the motion so that it was clear she disagreed with me. "You're grasping at straws. Sheriff Knoxx is part goblin. That doesn't mean he's related to every goblin in the paranormal world. If a goblin suddenly showed up in Sweetland, it would probably just be a coincidence."
I screwed my face up. "I'm not sure that's the best analogy."
"You know what I mean though," Lucy said, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, I suppose."
We sat in silence. With neither of us talking, the place seemed far too quiet. Coffee Cove wasn't huge, but it was a good size. Like a small diner. The only voices we could hear were the voices up at the front counter as people gave their orders.
"Cinnamon latte."
"Vanilla mochaccino."
"Chai tea latte."
The Mystic Cupcake supplied Coffee Cove with a variety of snacks and treats on a daily basis. Simple things like cupcakes, brownies, and cookies. It was good for business, plus Trixie liked helping out Melbourne. She came down herself every morning to restock their shelves. It gave her a chance to see him.
Melbourne was generally considered quite reserved, but when Trixie was around, there were little changes in him. He smiled more, and the corners of his eyes crinkled up. He looked more human and less like a vampire. If I didn't know better, I'd even have thought that there was color in his cheeks.
He glanced at me curiously but must've finally decided I wasn't doing anything very interesting and returned his gaze to the magazine he was flipping through.
Olivia, one of the baristas, let out a sharp yell. "Ow! That steamer just tried to steam my fingers!" she shouted from behind the counter.
Another barista, Clifford, who was eighteen and gaga for Olivia from what Lucy said, laughed.
"It's not funny," Olivia barked. "That thing has a mind of its own. It's always turning itself on and off when I haven't even touched it."
"Maybe it just wants your attention," Clifford laughed.
"Ha ha," Olivia said and turned haughtily away from him. Clifford's smile dropped off his face. He hesitated then began apologizing. Melbourne left his spot by the espresso machine and went to go diffuse the flames between the two lovebirds.
"So," I asked Lucy, "will you help me?" I could see her thinking. "Did I mention you're the bestest friend ever and I'd do anything for you, including getting you two tickets to the Starlights? You can take Wren."
Her eyes rounded. "How are you going to do that? They're sold out."
"I have my ways," I said, thinking that I'd have to go online later and buy a pair from one of those ticket scalping companies who were somehow legal and would charge me four times as much as the tickets were worth.
She sighed. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Nothing, really. I'm just gonna tell my aunts and my dad that I'm helping you with a project for the next few days, so I can't come into the bakery. If they ask you anything about it, just confirm what I said."
"What sort of project?"
&nbs
p; I shrugged. "I don't know. Tell them you can't talk about it. It's private."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Do you really think that will work? Your aunts are smarter than that."
I drew in a breath. "Fine. I'll tell them..." But nothing came to mind.
"I know," Lucy said, her eyes brightening. "I'll tell them you're helping me with a project for my parents. My mom's starting her own business on eBay and has been asking me for help."
"Is she really?" I asked.
Lucy nodded.
"Perfect, eBay to the rescue."
"The things I do for friends," Lucy said, shaking her head.
I stood up as Olivia let out another shriek. "You see! I told you it's turning on by itself."
A few people cackled. I said goodbye and headed out the door, passing three posters for missing people that had been tacked to the community board. There was a fourth poster that hadn't been there last time I was in the shop. It must have just been added. Only it wasn't a missing person's poster. It was a wanted poster.
Wanted: Damon Tellinger
Crime: Murder
I shivered and walked outside.
* * *
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
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Standards Warehouse was a busy place. Far busier than its unassuming façade would have led me to believe. I thought that Damon had implied it was quiet here, but this didn't seem quiet.
Hundreds of people wandered about, most of them in the main warehouse. Conveyor belts hummed in the background. Ketchup bottles went up one side and down another, quality control checkers pulling them off for inspection before stamping them with their seal of approval and sending them off to be packaged.
There were shipping rooms devoted solely to ensuring that each box, which contained twelve ketchup, mustard, or mayonnaise bottles each, was packed and labeled appropriately. Once the boxes had been checked and approved, they got stacked onto a pallet and loaded into a truck.
Mr. Jaggers led me around after I'd finished filling out my paperwork, showing off the place and introducing me to everyone. My heart dropped out of my chest when he stopped beside a man with a scowl on his face and introduced him as Mr. Burch.
"Hello," I said, shaking Burch's hand.
"Who are you?" Burch asked. I forgot to breathe and shot Mr. Jaggers a quick look to gauge his reaction.
Mr. Jaggers forced the corners of his lips down as if trying to cover a smile. "This is Miss Pauline. Clarissa Pauline. Our new secretary."
I could tell he thought the charade funny and wanted to wink at Burch and let him know he was in on the joke. Much to my relief, he did no such thing. Even if he had winked, Burch struck me as the kind of man who'd have looked at him funny but made no comment beyond advising him to go to the doctor.
Burch nodded gruffly, glanced over me, and continued on his way.
"He's a good man," Jaggers said when he was gone and looked at me expectantly.
"The best," I said in a breathy voice. "Tee hee."
When we were finished with the tour, Jaggers sat me down at a desk just outside his office and told me to answer the phones when they rang.
"Anything else?" I asked.
"Not just now. If anything comes up, I'll let you know." He looked around as if checking to make sure we were still alone, then whispered, "If Mr. Burch asks how your first day went, do me a favor and tell him it was great."
I offered him a big smile. "Sure thing, Mr. Jaggers."
He smiled back and left me to my work. My desk was in a large room just off a hallway that connected to the main floor. Mr. Jaggers had a smaller office within the one where I sat. I had no idea yet where Burch's office was.
After an hour, I wished that Jaggers had given me something more to do. The phones rang but not frequently enough to keep me busy, and by lunchtime, I was bored nearly to tears. There was only so long I could play Candy Crush on my phone before my head started feeling loopy.
I'd already searched my desk and the one filing cabinet in the room, but there was nothing particularly interesting in either one. The filing cabinet appeared to be mostly bills for the companies who were buying the condiments and payroll vouchers.
The drawer with the payroll vouchers had been a little trickier to open. I'd had to use a bit of magic on it, but there was nothing illegal or even suspicious hidden in it so far as I could tell. It was just payroll vouchers. Lots of companies kept those, though I was surprised to find that they had so many hard copies. I would have thought in this day and age that everything would be on the computer.
Mr. Jaggers came out of his office and stood in the doorway. "How's it going?"
"Fine. Need me to do something?" I asked hopefully.
"Yes, go to lunch. Take an hour."
"Lunch?" It didn't feel as if I'd done enough work to merit a ten-minute break let alone an hour for lunch.
"How long does everyone else get?"
"A half hour," he said, then smiled. "But important people like us get a full hour." He winked at me, and I 'tee-heed' for him. I'd just gotten an idea.
I took hold of his arm and steered him out of the doorway he was still standing in. "You're much more handsome than Kip," I whispered. "Don't tell him I told you so though. He'd be furious. Tee hee."
My compliment worked. Jaggers blushed and straightened his tie, leading me out of the room without locking the door to his office. "I, uh, thank you, Miss Pauline."
"Where does everyone go for lunch around here?"
"Most of the employees go to the lunchroom on the east side of the building." He hesitated. "There's a separate lunchroom for management. I'd invite you to come along but I'm not sure Mr. Burch would want that, considering the low profile you two are trying to keep."
"No, you're right. He wouldn't want that. I'll eat with the other employees. Thank you."
He walked me to the lunchroom and I followed the long line of employees streaming in. I grabbed an apple and a coffee so I wouldn't look suspicious, then hightailed it back to the office. Mr. Jaggers was still at lunch and ought to be for some time. I knocked on his door anyway, just in case. When there was no answer, I let myself in.
His office was surprisingly warm and inviting. A picture of a woman and child stood in a frame on his oak desk. There was a comfy-looking computer chair on wheels for him to sit on, and two more comfy-looking chairs for visitors. There was also a small sofa on the side of the room that I could tell had received many a nap, and a coffee table just beside it. In the back corner was a filing cabinet like the one in the outer office I'd already searched. I was betting this one didn't just have payroll vouchers though.
I hurried to it and pulled the top drawer. Nothing happened. I tried the first unlocking spell that came to mind, and it worked. The top drawer popped open.
There were five drawers in all, and they all seemed to have employee records. I sifted through them and found mine. It contained the paperwork I'd filled out earlier and little else. I'd made up most of the information on it, assuming it wouldn't be checked. So far, I'd been right.
The rest of the files were nothing special. They contained reports of conduct that seemed to be done every six months. The reports simply stated how well the employee was doing at their job, where they could improve, that sort of thing. Pretty standard stuff.
"This is getting me nowhere," I said and shut the drawers, relocking them.
I searched Jaggers' desk but it was even less informative than the filing cabinet. Maybe the problem was that I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking for. I'd been hoping that if I looked in the right place, something would pop out at me, but nothing had. There was no file on "Mer-Wolf." I'd checked.
I stood with my hands on my hips, tapping my foot, wondering what to do next. Everyone was still at lunch. Chances were good that Burch was at lunch with the rest of them. If I could find his office, maybe I could get a pe
ek inside.
"All right," I murmured. "There's no time like the present."
* * *
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
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The hallway Jaggers' office was down opened up onto the main floor. There was only one other office off the same hall, and it belonged to another guy in management, not Mr. Burch. There were lots of halls in this building, I discovered. At least the building was all one level, I wouldn't have to go trekking upstairs in search of anything.
I walked across the main floor, keeping my eyes open. The warehouse was like a big open-concept house, only instead of a living room, you had the conveyor belt room, and instead of the kitchen, you had the packing room. There was lots of space and you could easily see from one station to the next. There were also lots of halls going off it in each direction. I spotted another hall at the opposite side of the main warehouse and headed toward it.
The place was eerie when it was quiet. Large, cold-looking machines loomed everywhere, humming low noises that sounded like threats. Apparently, people here took their lunchtime seriously, because there was not one person in sight. I could hear laughter peel out every so often from the hall leading to the lunchroom and kept checking to make sure no one was coming.
The hall I entered was wide and dark. There was light, but it was dim and without warmth. I looked at the doors that lined either side of it and saw nothing to indicate one room from another. They looked like standard office doors but without nameplates. I pulled one knob and it turned easily. It was a broom closet. I tried another door; it was a bathroom.
