by Zoe Arden
I paused and scratched my head. There was only one other door left to try. I turned the knob, and nothing happened. I muttered the same incantation I'd used in Jaggers office, hoping it would open just as easily as his filing cabinet had, but the spell had no effect.
"Darn it," I said to myself.
"Something wrong?" a voice asked, jumping out at me. I screamed and jumped a foot in the air, then burst into a round of nervous laughter.
"You scared me," I said to a security guard who was standing with his hands on his hips, watching me with a curious expression. He had a kind face, and his smile was genuine.
"Didn't mean to," he said.
"I... I was looking for the bathroom."
His smile broadened. "You're new here, right? I remember Mr. Jaggers taking you around this morning. He didn't introduce me, but then I'm not terribly important."
"Clarissa Pauline," I said, extending my hand.
"Gordie Peterman."
My mouth dropped open. "Gordie Peterman?"
He cocked his head to one side. "Do I know you?"
I took a deep breath and shook my head. Damon had mentioned Gordie in passing, but I hardly thought I should say so. Who knew what Gordie thought of Damon now.
"No. I just... I thought I knew you for a minute, but I was wrong."
He shrugged. "The bathroom's this way." I followed him, grateful he didn't seem too suspicious.
"It's this one here," he said, pointing to the door I'd already found. "Sign keeps falling off. It's unisex, so just make sure you lock it behind you."
"Thanks, I will." I paused. "What does that other door lead to?" I asked, pointing to the one that had been locked.
"That? Oh, you don't want to go down there. That door leads to the basement. There's black mold down there, or at least that's what management says."
"You don't believe them?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Only..."
"Only?" I prompted.
"Only sometimes I hear weird sounds coming up out of there. And they like to post guards around the doors that lead down there, especially since that one guard disappeared last week. You don't guard black mold, do you?"
My ears perked up. "There was a guard who disappeared?"
"Yeah, Damon Tellinger." He frowned. "Nice guy. I don't believe what they're saying about him."
"What are they saying?"
"That he tried to sneak into Burch's office and steal some money that's locked in a safe there. I was working with him his last night here, and I never saw him go anywhere near Burch's office. He only worked here a couple of weeks."
"So, you don't believe the rumors?"
"Damon saw something in the basement that night that scared him. Bad. I think Burch fired him to cover it up. Now they're saying Damon killed someone. Some poor woman who got stabbed with a knife."
I bit my bottom lip.
"Are the basement doors always locked? I don't see a guard outside this one."
"If he's not here, then he's probably watching on the monitors." He looked up and his eyes landed on a camera in the corner that I'd missed entirely.
I held my breath. I'd forgotten to check for cameras before snooping around. I hadn't seen any in Jaggers' office, but suddenly, I wanted to rush back and make sure. I guess I was lucky Gordie had come along when he had. Otherwise, I might've gotten caught sneaking into the basement on camera. How would I have explained that?
"Will I get in trouble for being back here?" I asked, feeling like I could trust him.
"No, this hall's not off limits, just the basement. Most of these cameras around here don't work anyway. They don't tell the workers that, but it's true. This one here works well, but the cameras out by the front gate haven't worked for months. They just pretend like they do so no one's the wiser."
"Why don't they just fix them?"
He shrugged. "Burch is cheap."
It was a simple statement, but it described bosses the country over.
"Thanks, Gordie." I took a step toward the bathroom then turned back to him. "By the way, you seem plenty important to me. I'm glad we met."
He blushed lightly. "Thanks," he said and went on his way. I went into the bathroom, so I wouldn't seem suspicious, especially if there were guards watching on monitors, and locked the door behind me.
There had to be a way into that basement. I just had to figure it out.
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CHAPTER
TWENTY
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My second day at Standards Warehouse was just as unremarkable as the first. Mr. Jaggers had me answering phones again, and after an hour or so, he encouraged me to relax and paint my nails or find some good YouTube videos. He said he was going to be having interviews after lunch, and I should just let him know when the applicants were here.
"Interviews for what?" I asked.
He hesitated. "It's been decided, that is, I talked it over with a few of the other fellows in management and we thought... that it might be useful to have a second secretary around. Someone with, erm, computer experience."
"I can work with computers," I said.
"I'm sure you can," he said quickly, "but, erm, your expertise is in answering phones. That's where you're needed the most, and that's where we want you. I'm sure Mr. Burch would agree. So, you see, it only makes sense that we hire a second secretary with expertise in computers. And typing. And filing. You just stick with the phones."
When lunchtime hit, I was ready for it. Jaggers began walking me to the lunchroom as he had the previous day.
"Maybe I should go it alone the rest of the way. I wouldn't want anyone thinking I was getting special treatment."
He blushed. "Yes, of course. You're right." He wished me a happy lunch then hurried to join the rest of the managers. I wondered if Burch ate with them or stayed in his office and had his meals brought in.
The basement door was locked just as it had been the day before, but this time I was ready for it. The spell I'd tried yesterday hadn't worked, but that didn't mean no spell would work. I just had to find the right one.
I'd stayed up all night researching little-known spells to unlock doors, assuming that the more traditional spells would have been taken into account by whoever was in charge of security. There were a few spells that even a five-year-old dim-witch could do. I skipped over those entirely and started with the hard stuff, making sure the cameras weren't watching me.
I'd used a simple spell to turn the cameras around and keep them turned around, rather than block the picture altogether. I figured that would just have caught someone's attention right away. At least this way, if someone only glanced at the monitors, it would appear the cameras were still working.
"Mako cronium," I said quietly and tapped my wand against the door three times. I didn't normally need a wand for such things, but I'd figured it wouldn't hurt to have a little extra oomph behind my spells. My wand was easily hidden, so there was no real risk in bringing it into work so far as I could tell.
It was the fourth spell that finally did the trick. A little something from ancient Egyptian witches. The door popped open with a soft click, and I moved quickly inside before anyone could spot me. The floor creaked louder than I'd have thought, and I tried to soften my footsteps as I made my way down.
At the bottom of the stairs, there was a long, dark corridor with overhead lights every ten feet or so. Doors lined either side of the hall. I stood listening, but there was nothing to listen to. Not a sound.
I wondered if Damon could have let his mind play tricks on him. Imagination was a powerful thing, especially when you were frightened. I could see how, alone at night, you might be walking this corridor and start seeing shadows or hearing things that weren't there. The normal sounds of the building settling could easily be mistaken for the sounds of a crazed animal lunging at you.
I tried the first door on my left. It was l
ocked. I tried the one on my right. It was locked as well. There were several doors to choose from, and I wasn't sure where to start. The thing foremost in my mind was to find out what was really down here.
If there was black mold behind these doors, then I wanted to know. I also wanted to know why no one had gotten rid of it yet, especially since Damon had mentioned that Burch was a wizard. He should have been able to zap away any mold with a flick of his wrist. So, why hadn't he?
My suspicions were that the whole "black mold" thing was a cover-up, but for what? Were there really mer-wolves running loose down here?
Three doors down, there was a loud bang. It came from the other side of the door. I paused, drawing in a deep breath, and decided that would be the first door I'd try. I said my spell, using the same one I'd used to get down here in the first place, and the door popped open.
Slowly, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dark but not black. Lights flickered around it like candlelight, creating just enough light that I could make things out. My jaw dropped slowly open. It felt like my whole body was moving in slow motion.
"What in the whole wide witching world..." I said.
I was staring at what looked like some sort of laboratory. An expansion charm had clearly been used to make the room larger than it should have been; it was the size of a high school gymnasium. There were glass tanks lining either side of the room. They stood from floor to ceiling, and inside each tank was a... creature. That was the only word for these things.
They weren't half-merman half-werewolf as Damon had described, or at least they weren't all like that. From what I could see without moving too far back, every tank contained some sort of mutant hybrid creature floating in amber liquid, sleeping as though they were all in some sort of stasis.
The creature on my left looked like a cross between a fairy and a snake. It had a small head, tiny wings, and it sparkled. It had no feet, just a long snake-like tail that wound up into a tight little coil. Beyond that was a creature that looked like a human who'd been painted every shade of the rainbow. I couldn't imagine what sort of creature they'd been spliced with to create such a trait, but the thing floating in the tank didn't look happy. Even in stasis, it was wearing a scowl.
What on Earth was going on here? This wasn't a warehouse; it was a research lab, but who was in charge of it? COMHA? The Witch's Council? Burch might have run things, but he couldn't have been the one behind all of this, could he? One man couldn't do something so monstrous, could he?
There were voices outside the door, and I froze.
"Our best one yet," one voice said.
"Can't wait to see it."
I ducked behind a large, darkened tank that seemed empty except for all the black water in it. The doors opened, and I held my breath.
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CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
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Two men stepped into the room. I closed my eyes as if that could somehow make me invisible. One of the men I recognized immediately as Burch. His voice alone was enough to give him away. I opened one eye and dared a look. He was talking to a man whose face I couldn't see, and I didn't dare try for a better look. I could hear the scowl in his voice as he spoke.
"Where's Tellinger?" Burch asked, walking to one of the tanks and tapping on the glass. The thing inside, a creature part-witch, part-unicorn, and part-scorpion didn't move. "Looks like the sleeping aids are holding."
"That's good," said the other man. "We don't want a repeat of the other week."
He was in his late thirties or maybe early forties and seemed to have Burch's total confidence. Despite his association with Burch and whatever all... this... was, there was something in his voice that made him seem like he was a man of authority.
"So?" Burch snarled. "Tellinger?"
The man sighed. "We're still looking for him. These things take time."
Burch cursed, and the other man told him to calm down. They began walking the floor together, going from tank to tank and tapping on them. I looked around, realizing that eventually they would make their way to the tank I was hiding behind. I wondered why mine was the only one that seemed to have black water. The others were all crystal clear.
"Where have you searched?" Burch asked.
"I have someone staked outside his apartment, just in case he comes back."
"Do you think that's likely?"
"No. Tellinger knows we're looking for him. He knows we planted that picture of the Beyers woman under his bed. He won't return."
"Then why waste resources watching his place?"
The man shrugged. "Because Tellinger's human, and human behavior is sometimes unpredictable."
Burch grunted. "Where else?"
"We checked out that bakery his ex-girlfriend works at, The Mystic Cupcake, but I pulled them early this morning and set them on more productive tasks."
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I brushed them down with my hand, and they stood right back up.
"Do you think that was a good idea? What if he decides to show?"
"He won't. Not there. Not now."
Burch grunted. "She may be his ex, but from what I understand, she's the closest friend he's got on this island."
"She's no longer a concern."
It made me happy and a little sad to think that I was the closest friend Damon had on the island. If that was true, then I had to do something about that when this was all over. That fairy he'd dated for a while had ended things rather unceremoniously. He needed someone he could trust. Someone who would be there for him even when others weren't.
If Lucy wasn't already dating someone, I might have thought of pairing them up. I shook my head, realizing how awkward that would be. My best friend and my ex-boyfriend? No way.
But there must be someone who would suit well with Damon. I just had to think about it. I didn't want him to be alone, and I knew I couldn't always be there for him. Not once I was married. We'd always be friends, but there had to be limits. I couldn't risk my relationship with Colt.
"What about his mother?" Burch asked, deciding to drop his previous line of questioning.
"She's on the mainland. None of my agents have seen Tellinger try to board a ferry."
"Is it possible they missed him?"
The man hesitated. "Possible, but not likely."
"Send a couple agents to check out his mother's place. Tell them to stay there. I'm not taking any more chances."
"You don't tell me what to do. Don't forget that." A sudden silence followed.
"Anything else that's pertinent I should know about?" Burch asked after a minute.
"Just that we're fairly confident Tellinger is still in Sweetland."
"How do you know that?"
"One of my men spotted him down at the beach talking to some fishmonger."
"Should we be concerned? Is this fishmonger someone we should bring in for questioning?"
"Not at this time. He doesn't likely know anything and bringing him in would only arouse suspicion."
"As you will. Let me know if anything changes."
"I'll decide what you need to know."
"I think I'm capable of deciding that for myself." There was a loud hissing sound that reminded me of a snake, and then another round of silence.
"Let's finish up," Burch finally said.
They continued making their way around the room, pausing to examine each "specimen." That was what they called these creatures. Specimen A12, Specimen B15, etc. The tank in front of me said Specimen A9. I wasn't sure what each number stood for, if anything, but I knew I didn't want to get caught down here trying to figure it out.
When Burch and his companion reached the very back of the room, I ran for the door. It opened easily and quietly, and I slipped out unseen. I came up from the basement just as the bell that ended lunch sounded and managed to blend in with the rest of the w
orkers. I saw an employee on a ladder turning around the cameras that I had managed to avoid. He was muttering to himself. "It's not my fault the cameras have a mind of their own all of a sudden. Lousy cameras."
I moved quickly to my desk and sat down just as Jaggers came in. He wasn't alone.
"Have a nice lunch, Miss Pauline?" Jaggers asked.
I nodded, slowly, not able to take my eyes off Jaggers or his companion.
"Good. I've got some unexpected business to attend to this afternoon. Would you please call the interviewees and reschedule?" He hesitated. "Unless you feel that's too much work for you. I can have someone else handle it."
"No, I don't mind," I said, my heart thumping hard in my chest. He handed me a list of interviewees, mostly women. I looked it over and set it aside.
My eyes were focused exclusively on the man beside him now. He was staring hard at me, and he didn't look happy. I felt a thin layer of sweat break out on my forehead and quickly dabbed it away before it became obvious.
"Oh," Mr. Jaggers said. "This is Detective Colt Hudson. He's with COMHA. Detective, this is my newest secretary, Miss Clarissa Pauline."
"Clarissa Pauline?" Colt repeated with a smirk.
"We're not to be disturbed," Jaggers told me.
"Yes, sir," I said. "I understand."
Colt cocked his head to one side and stuck out his hand. "Miss Pauline, it's so nice to meet you."
I took his hand and felt his fingers squeeze tightly over mine.
"You, too," I said. Then Colt let go and followed Jaggers into his office.
* * *
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
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