“Sure.” Will stepped inside the office.
“If the phone rings, just let it go to voicemail.” Ms. Caldwell backed out of the room. “Dr. Prichard doesn’t trust anyone else to get his messages.”
“I understand.” Will had the earnest look down pat. Who knew he was such a great actor? “I’ll just wait inside and make sure to get the coffee going.”
“He likes it strong. Use an extra couple of scoops.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Will promised with a smile.
“All right, if you’re sure—”
“Everything will be fine.”
Ms. Caldwell finally left Will alone, making her way in the opposite direction from where Paula was hidden. When the older woman entered the stairwell with a stack of papers, Paula trotted down the hall and into the open office.
Will shut the door behind her with a quiet click. “Thank God she’s gone. I don’t think I could have listened to any more of her adoration of the Amazing Dr. Pritchard.”
“I know. That woman is too much.” She flicked on the desk lamp. “That’s the cabinet where he put Craig’s box.” She pointed out the locked sliding door behind Pritchard’s desk. “We should have at least five or ten minutes before she comes back. The department copier is from the Stone Age.”
Will adjusted the thermostat up several degrees.
Paula gave him a look of consternation.
“What? If we don’t want Ms. Caldwell to suspect anything, we’d better follow through on what I promised her before she comes back.”
“Does that mean I’m in charge of coffee?” She crossed her arms.
“Would you rather try breaking into a locked cabinet?”
She sighed. “Do you have some experience with locks that I’m unaware of?”
“No, but I do have an article on the finer points of lock picking.”
“The Wall of Weird,” Paula said to herself. He had a million little clippings and articles pinned up on his wall. Guess he didn’t limit himself to supernatural stories only.
“What?”
She rummaged around in a drawer under the coffee maker. “Um, I was wondering where the filters were.”
“Right next to the coffee.” Will pointed at a huge stack of filters right under her nose.
“Oh, yeah.” She grabbed one, stuck it in the coffee maker, and scooped some grounds into it. “Where do you think I can get some water?”
“I think there’s a bathroom down the hall.” Will was searching through Dr. Pritchard’s desk drawers.
“Be right back.”
He pulled a letter opener out of the top drawer. “Keep an eye out for Ms. Caldwell.”
Paula nodded, grabbed the coffeepot, and zipped out into the hall. She thought fleetingly of the phone messages probably waiting for her on her office phone. More black box users with questions and problems. She hoped there weren’t any more altered boxes out there and possibly more victims of Pritchard’s secret experiment. Who knew how many people were in danger right now, even as they tried their best to stop him?
As she filled the pot with water from the tap in the women’s bathroom, she recalled what Ms. Caldwell had said to Will. Pritchard had made a trip to D.C. yesterday to talk about money for the project. Could it be a government agency was interested in the black box project?
As she thought more about it, the truth became horridly clear. The altered black boxes caused people to harm themselves. And who would want that kind of power over another human being?
Wouldn’t it be easier if a terrorist or serial killer to took his own life rather than waste the government’s time and money making a case for his guilt? Set the black box in his cell for a few hours of exposure, and he would probably take care of it for them. He’d hang himself with a bed sheet or slit his wrists with a sharpened toothbrush handle. All without a trace of outside interference. No guilt on their part. The CIA or the FBI would be in the clear. How simple. How easy. How horrific.
Or what about using the black boxes en masse? What if more than one box was in use? Could they possibly affect a whole group of people at once? An army? She shuddered at the implications of using the boxes in such a way.
This was no game.
Pritchard was into something serious—larger and more dangerous than they could have imagined.
She had to tell Will.
The water overflowed the lip of the coffee pot and spilled into the sink. She shut off the tap, dumped out some of the extra water, and returned to Pritchard’s office. She saw no sign of Ms. Caldwell.
She tapped quietly on the door. “It’s me.”
When she opened it, Will was crouched down next to the cabinet, the letter opener in hand. “I think I’ve almost got it.”
“We need to get out of here.”
“What?” He kept his focus on the lock. The metal whined under the pressure of the letter opener. “Is someone coming?” He put more force on the opener.
Paula set the pot of water on Pritchard’s desk. A few drops sloshed out onto the pristine desk. “Stop. I said stop.” Paula grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the lock.
He stared at her. “What are you doing? We need that box.”
“We have to get out of here before Ms. Caldwell comes back.”
“What are you so worried about?”
“I’m not worried about him.” She needed Will to listen. “I’m worried about who he might be working for.”
“Who?” Will sat back on his heels.
“Think about it. He went to D.C.—who in Washington would be interested in a project like this?”
“I don’t know. Why does it matter?”
“What agencies might be interested in a box that kills?”
Will’s face paled.
“It’s not the original study they’re interested in. It’s the other study. The secret study.”
Will tapped the flat of the letter opener against his hand. “Pritchard used those people as guinea pigs, and you think his financial backers knew about it?”
“Why would they suddenly come up with funding near the end of the project?” She gave him a moment to think it through. “Professor Pritchard had the hard data they’d been waiting for.”
“Craig? And Sam?”
“And Bianca—and who know how many others are out there? He knew he could use the data to sell the project. Those suicides were the results he was waiting for.”
“That’s depraved.” Will dropped the letter opener on the desk.
Paula felt sick to her stomach. “That’s how he keeps his precious department running—by killing people for profit.”
“But we still need to get proof.”
“If we break into that cabinet now, it’s not just the professor we’ll be working against.”
“We can’t ignore what’s happened,” Will’s jaw set. “How does this change anything?”
Paula couldn’t think straight. “I don’t know, but I’m worried that—”
“How could it get any worse? Someone gave you a concussion, then you almost killed yourself last night. Who’s to say that won’t happen again? That you won’t keep having those feelings? If there’s a way to reverse it or fix it, I have to know. I can’t give up. I can’t let Pritchard keep hurting people.”
“I’m not asking you to give up.” She touched his sleeve. “I’m just asking you to wait.”
“No.” Before she could stop him, Will grabbed the letter opener and jammed it into the lock.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Will gave one final jab, and the pin snapped inside the lock.
“Will, don’t!” Paula wanted to jerk him back from the cabinet before he looked inside, before he found answers they didn’t want to find. If their first attempt at digging deeper resulted in a knock on her head, what would happen if the professor and his supporters found out they’d uncovered more? “What are you doing?”
“Trying to save your life. Trying to save Lark’s life. What’s wrong with you? Do
n’t you want to put a stop to this?” Will slid the door open.
“I want you to be safe.” She knelt beside him on the floor. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Especially you.” The last words slipped out in a whisper.
Two boxes were tucked inside the cabinet along with a stack of manila folders. “We need to get this stuff out of here before Ms. Caldwell comes back. Or Pritchard. Help me.” He handed her one of the boxes.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Paula didn’t want to be here anymore. She didn’t want to play games with people like this any longer. She didn’t have the courage for it.
“I heard you. Why do you think I want us to get out of here...now.”
She took the box and a pile of folders from him, searching his face for something. She wasn’t sure what.
Will leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Come on.” He grabbed more of the file folders and stuffed them into his backpack.
Paula, stunned by the unexpected softness of his mouth on hers, knelt there, the box and folders held loosely in her hands.
Will got up with his backpack stuffed to the zipper and the second box tucked under his arm. “Don’t tell me no one’s every kissed you before.” He winked at her.
She touched her lips with her fingertips. The feel of him lingered there, like an electric charge.
She heard footsteps.
“I think someone’s coming. We have to get out of here.” She scrambled to her feet. Her hand brushed the handle of the coffeepot, knocking it over and sending water flying across the desktop. “Shit!”
“Get down!” Will flagged her back as he leaned his ear against the door. The footsteps grew ever closer.
She took the box and manila folders with her behind the desk. She couldn’t find any good place to hide in the small office. If anyone came more than two feet into the room, they would see her knees and hands under the desk. But it was instinctual. She crouched under the desk, clutching the box and papers close to her chest.
“Will.” Her voice was a harsh whisper.
“Don’t say a word and stay down.”
The door creaked open. “What are you doing with that?” Ms. Caldwell’s dependable loafers were visible under the edge of the desk. Paula would recognize them anywhere.
It would have been impossible for him to hide the black box he was carrying.
“It’s evidence.”
Ms. Caldwell snorted. “Evidence? Evidence of what? What are you talking about?”
“Murder.”
The door shut. “Whose murder?”
“Professor Pritchard has been killing students with this thing.”
“Why, that’s absurd. It’s just a box. A box that read auras. Now, if you’ll give that to me—”
Will took a step back. The heels of his shoes were right up against the desk. Paula could reach out and touch them if she wanted.
Ms. Caldwell’s voice changed. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me.”
“Excuse me?”
What was Ms. Caldwell doing?
“Hand over the box and get moving. I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Her demeanor had completely changed. Gone was the uptight grandmother with a crush on the professor. This woman was harsh, cruel even.
“Why would I do something like that?”
“You think I don’t know what you and Crenshaw have been up to? That the professor doesn’t know? You may think you’re good at playing spy, but we caught on to your little game days ago.”
Paula couldn’t believe it. Minerva Caldwell had known all along what the professor was doing. Here, she had suspected it might be Candace who had been the one helping, but it had been Ms. Caldwell the whole time. Dowdy, straight-as-a-ruler Minerva Caldwell. She wanted to shout, to come out of her hiding place. But she knew that would put both of them in danger, and they would lose the only evidence they had. She kept quiet.
“Next time, your little girlfriend will end up with more than a few stitches. Next time—”
So it was Minerva who had hidden in her basement. Paula touched the wound still fresh behind her ear.
“Shut up,” Will growled at her. “You leave Paula out of this. I’ll go with you, if that’s what you want.”
“No complaints?”
“No complaints.”
“You walk out of here like everything’s fine and dandy?”
“Yes.” Will’s voice was steady.
“Good, I thought you might see it my way. Now, hand over the box.”
Paula wished she could see what was going on. What was Will doing?
“If we run into anyone, you let me do the talking, got it? We’re going out to my car. Pretend like everything’s normal, and nothing will happen to your little office pal.”
“Shut up.”
“Settle down, tiger.” Ms. Caldwell laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to hurt her. We just need to make sure that you’re not going to be dumb enough to spill the beans and ruin everything.”
“I won’t.”
“Get going.”
The door opened and shut. Their footsteps in the hall got fainter and fainter.
Paula had to follow them. She couldn’t let Will get hurt. Who knew what Pritchard or his government contacts might do to him to keep him quiet?
She scrambled out from underneath the desk. At least Ms. Caldwell didn’t know she had a black box in her possession. Perhaps she would be able to use it as leverage to make sure Will was safe.
She slipped out into the hall. The flutter of the stairwell door caught her eye. They must be headed to the faculty lot on the west side of the building. Paula’s car was parked on the opposite side.
In a panic, she headed at a run for the other end of the hallway. She hoped she could make it down the stairs and to her car in enough time to catch Ms. Caldwell. Who knew where she might be taking Will?
She pounded down the stairs.
At the wrong moment, a janitor with a mop and bucket entered the stairwell. As she raced around the corner, Paula knocked him to the ground.
“Hey!” he called out after her. His voice echoed in the stairwell.
She kept running, taking stairs two at a time. She had no time for politeness and apologies. Will’s life might be at stake.
She burst outside and jogged to her car. As she jammed the key into the ignition, she prayed she hadn’t missed them. She slammed the gearshift into reverse and squealed out of her parking space. She slid into drive and pushed hard on the gas. Her car bolted ahead. A student flipped her the bird when she barely missed clipping his bike.
She bumped out of the parking lot, zoomed around the building, and hoped she’d be able to find Will and Ms. Caldwell.
The faculty lot on the back of the building was smaller. Only two cars were parked in it—a green Mini Cooper and a silver van. In the Mini Cooper, two people sat. That had to be them.
***
“Where are you taking me?” Ms. Caldwell had forced Will down the stairwell and into her car.
She backed up without a word. Once she shifted into drive, she pulled a taser out of her purse and set it in her lap. “I think I’ll be the one asking the questions here.”
Will kept his gaze on the stairwell door, hoping Paula would stay inside the building. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief once they’d made it out onto the street. Paula would be safe—for now. He hoped giving in to Minerva Caldwell’s demands bought Paula enough time to contact Larry or her brother and to get well away from the university and Professor Pritchard.
“What are you going to do with me? Kill me?”
Ms. Caldwell laughed darkly. “I don’t have to do that.”
The black box he’d taken from the cabinet sat in the back seat. Ms. Caldwell was right. She had the tool right there to keep him quiet. And it would never be traced back to her or to Pritchard.
“So why are you helping the professor? What could you possibly have to gain from all of this?”
“Shut up. No
more talking. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Where?”
“I said, shut up.” Minerva shifted to a higher gear as they turned off of campus property and onto Main Street.
Will thought about Paula. The kiss in the professor’s office. He’d been wanting to do that for a long time. For weeks, she’d practically ignored him. But in the last few days, something had changed. She’d opened up to him. She’d started to trust him.
“This is it. Get out.” Ms. Caldwell had parked in a nice neighborhood.
He climbed out of the car. “Where are we?”
She grabbed the black box from the back seat. “Over there.” She nudged him across the street towards a green-and-white house. “Get going.”
“What’s in there?”
“You mean, who’s in there.” She poked him in the back with the taser. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Following a block behind the Mini Cooper, Paula watched as Ms. Caldwell pulled up in front of a white house with green shutters and a dramatic front entrance with tall white columns.
Who lives here?
Paula made a left onto a side street and parked her car.
The manila folders had spilled onto the floor, papers loose everywhere. She scooped them up. She decided she should hide everything in her trunk just in case. As she picked up the papers, she noticed a small notebook with a familiar name on top: Kathleen Smith. The graduate student whose spot Paula had filled earlier in the year.
Knowing she didn’t have much time but curious all the same, she quickly flipped through the notebook. Her fingers touched her lips at what she found inside. It suddenly became very clear why Kathleen may have ‘left’ the university so unexpectedly.
She closed the notebook, gathered the papers, and the black box. After unlocking her trunk, she stashed everything inside, covering it with a blanket.
All she had on her was her cell phone and her car keys. If Ms. Caldwell tried to hurt Will, Paula could have the cops all over her in a flash.
The Little Black Box Page 17
