In Stone Vol. 1-6: The First Six Travis Eldritch Problems (A Travis Eldritch Problem)

by Jennifer Vandenberg

  “Not yet,” I turned my neck and saw a tall woman enter the office. She was dressed in a lab coat, but looked nothing like the nerdy girls I knew. She looked like she was going to lunch at the Beacon Inn, a place I couldn’t afford if I worked for the next twenty years and saved every dime I made. She removed her coat and scooted onto the desk. Her flared skirt played peek-a-boo with her thighs and since she was directly in front of me, I decided to enjoy the view.

  “I was told you were not smart, just very persistent.” She looked at me and smiled. A weaker man would have melted under her sensual stare. Me, I only dripped a bit.

  “However, I was not told about the child.” She focused on Jet and he grinned at her. I knew that look. This woman was no clone and was as insincere as they came. The dripping ended and I let Jet lead the conversation.

  “I am not a child. I am from Gregos.”

  “Oh, Gregos. How remarkable. And what is your name, little boy?” If Jet was offended by being called a boy, he wasn’t showing it.

  “My name is Jet Moored. What is yours?”

  She laughed. “Oh, I like you. I would love to have more of you. I would adjust your height of course, but I wouldn’t want to mess with that boldness.” She stood up and came over to stand by Jet. “I am Killian Joy.” She gestured to the clones. “And this is what I do.”

  Jet shrugged. “Why only one set? And why start with this body type? Surely the red hair makes them stick out.”

  Considering that Jet had more red hair than even Henrietta I guess he would know about sticking out. I realized then that I never thought Jet was a clown. Apparently being a clown is more than scalp deep.

  She laughed. “Oh my, you are smart aren’t you? Like an eager student. You could be my teacher’s pet. I wish I had met you first, I would have used you instead of Humphrey.”

  Humphrey? Was she kidding? She cloned a guy named Humphrey? I wanted to comment but I kept my thoughts to myself since she seemed absorbed with Jet. I glanced at Harry and noticed that he was staring at the wall of clones. I looked over and wondered what had him so interested. Looking at them gave me a headache. Sure they wore slightly different clothes, but the four men and two women lined up on the wall seemed very fake to me. I glanced back at Jet. He was playing Ms. Joy like a stringbox. I glanced back at the wall of clones and wondered how we were going to capture the six of them.

  Six? I looked again and noticed that the woman on the end was grinning. I counted them carefully once and then twice. Hadn’t there been five? I’m not the smartest man ever and they did look alike, but I was sure there were only five before. Then I remembered—there was a clone I hadn’t met. Harry claimed that there were four of them who wanted to escape. Harriet was dead, and Henrietta was a double agent. I wondered what the name of this last one was. It must start with an H because Killian Joy evidently had no imagination.

  “So you see, Jet. That is why there is only one set.”

  “Well, I hope you get the kinks worked out. Still, creating cold-blooded killers has its advantages.”

  “So true, but it was unintended, I promise. I created the clones as a way to have eternal life. But the Battleboys pay very well. I’ll be able to create a new group of clones that will be much improved. I’ve learned so much from manipulating the DNA of this group. She glanced over and frowned.

  “Hortensia, it was nice of you to join us.”

  The smiling clone nodded. “I couldn’t let them have all the fun.”

  Killian didn’t seem to like that. Her frown brought out the malice in her eyes. “Well, if it’s fun you want, then why don’t you start with Mr. Eldritch here. Take Hank and Harvey to help. Once you’re done send them back and we’ll take care of Harry.” She turned to Jet. “I think I’ll be keeping you around a little longer. We have possibilities to discuss.”

  Jet grinned. “That would be fine.”

  Hortensia came around to where I was strapped to the chair and started to untie me. “No tricks,” she said. I nodded. I might be able to take down two of these clowns, I mean clones, but not with everyone in the room as backup.

  Killian walked over and opened the door. Inspector Young grinned at her. “Dames with brains, always a dangerous combination.” She stepped back and hollered for the clones. I hit the one closest to me and he doubled over. Hortensia had her knife out and was slashing at one of the other clones. Young entered the office with about five officers and the skirmish was over pretty quickly.

  In no time Jet and Harry were untied. Hortensia, at least I hoped it was Hortensia, stood by Harry’s side and he simpered on her shoulder. What a gobblebird. Five clones were handcuffed and Killian Joy was cuffed to the chair I had been sitting in. She seemed very confident and was openly flirting with several of the officers. That seemed strange to me; she had to know it was over. She had created killers who had killed. She was going down, but she was acting like she was at a cocktail party. And the officers seemed to be enjoying it. Then I knew. That was her Problem.

  “Young, have you got any female officers?”

  “No. Who ever heard of a female police officer? What a dumb idea.”

  I took that as a yes. “Well, if you want this master criminal to spend any time in your lovely jail I suggest you get a female to take her in.”

  Young looked from Killian to the goofy faces of his officers and groaned. “You know, I was having a peaceful day, just me and my paperwork.” He barked at one of the officers to call for female assistance. There was more to the instructions but the sarcasm was so thick I don’t know if I could call it orders.

  Killian turned her dagger-filled eyes on me. Her Problem might be sex appeal, but right now all I saw was pure hatred. “What is wrong with you? A simple-minded man like you should have been at my beck and call.”

  “Oh babe, I was. The only one you weren’t fooling was Jet. Once I knew what he knew, you were toast.”

  “Jet? That sweet kid was totally taken with me.”

  I laughed. “He was taking you all right, taking you for a ride. You never saw past what you wanted to see. That’s why he’s the smart one.”

  With that I walked away and headed over to Harry and Hortensia. Inspector Young joined us.

  “I guess I should thank you for helping us,” he drawled. I looked at the clone I hoped was Hortensia.

  “You called the cops?”

  She nodded. “It was step two. Step one was getting everyone to enlist your help. I knew it was a combination that could not fail.”

  I frowned. “Why us?”

  Hortensia smiled. “Oh, it was just something a little chirper told me.”

  Inspector Young shook his head and left with his men and prisoners. I was suspicious of this woman. How did I know she was not another traitor?

  “Harry, how do you know who she is?”

  Harry turned over the clone’s left wrist. The name Hortensia was tattooed there. He turned his own hand over and I saw Harry printed on his wrist. “Killian couldn’t tell us apart either so she had our names tattooed on us so she would know who was who.” I nodded. That was why Harriet’s wrists had been slashed. Henrietta thought she had destroyed all means of identifying her.

  “But Harry knows who I am anyway. I am one of the mistakes,” Hortensia said.

  “No killing instinct?”

  “No. I can’t stop smiling, no matter what happens. I was the first one she tried to manipulate and it turned out she didn’t know as much about redesigning DNA as she thought she did.”

  “So you have a Problem.”

  She thought for a second and her smile was brighter than ever. “I guess I do. And as we know, our Problem makes us unique. So I must not be a clone.”

  I wasn’t so sure it was that easy. I waved Jet over from where he was reviewing papers on Killian’s desk. I introduced him to Hortensia and then raised my eyebrow at him. He shook his head and I nodded. No need for Hortensia to know she still radiated no feelings. I guess once a clone always a clone, and that is a P
roblem I would not want to have. I turned to leave and froze in place. On second thought, being a clone might be a great Problem.

  Revealed In Stone

  (A Third Travis Eldritch Problem)

  By Jennifer Vandenberg

  All Rights Reserved © 2013 Jennifer Vandenberg

  This story is dedicated to all my wonderful friends who are graduating in June 2013. Congratulations on completing your current educational journey.

  You could say I am an expert on Problems, and not because I have so many. On this moon, our creators, collectively known as They, only hand out one Problem to us at our birth. And I don’t mean a problem…I mean a Problem. According to the mystics, who claim to speak for Them, we receive a Problem to make us better people. I’m not sure how turning into a statue at random times—my Problem—makes me better, but it does make me grateful that I don’t have other people’s Problems. My cousin Manny’s Problem causes him to constantly smack himself in the forehead. Ouch.

  Mystics are not the only people trying to help us understand our Problems. On a moon where everyone has a Problem, therapy is big business. Both of my parents are therapists, as are many of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Everyone assumed I’d become a therapist. I went to school planning to join the family business, but I ended up dropping out. The story I told everyone was that my good friend Grant offered me a chance to join his P.I. agency. The truth was I realized that therapy was never going to help people deal with their Problem, because no matter how long they talked about it, their Problem was never going away. I wanted to help people solve their problems even if I couldn’t help them with their Problem.

  The one advantage to having an almost-degree in therapy is that I am very good at discovering other people’s Problems, whether they want me to or not. Not that it helps much. Being a detective has taught me that the more you know, the more there is that you don’t know. So being an expert on Problems means that I am actually an expert on nothing.

  ●●●

  I love it when the City is our client. We get paid on time, they don’t argue about the bill, and they don’t come to our office and demand we do it their way. All the City cares about is results, and Jet and I are pleased to help. Plus, most of the jobs from the City involve thwarting our local crime syndicate—the Battleboys. We’ve been derailing them for so long that we could do it in our sleep. Good pay for easy work. Bring it on.

  It was a City job that had us standing in the offices of Hunter Newman, CPA. Someone in the City had gotten wind that money was being brought in from off-moon and disappearing. We had trailed the funds to this office on the second floor of a swank building complex in midtown. It was very different from my own small office in downtown; my non-descript brick building was filled with accountants and other small-time professionals. One did not often find accountants in midtown. Lawyers, yes. Accountants, no.

  Maybe this guy was a really good accountant. Or maybe he was working for the Battleboys. The way things were going we probably weren’t going to figure that out today.

  Blocking our way was the secretary. Now, I have rarely found a woman who I can’t charm, unless I am a statue, and if I can’t charm them, then Jet can always be the voice of reason. We are a pretty dangerous tag team around the female of the species. But neither charm nor reason was working on the plain Jane before us. The more questions we asked the less she talked.

  “If you can’t tell us if Mr. Newman is in or out, can you tell us when his next appointment is?” I gave her my most charming look hoping to get an answer to what I thought was an easy question.

  Silence. I glanced at Jet. He was wearing his customary smile, which told me nothing. He often smiled when I was striking out. I motioned for him to try again. We needed to get past this guard tailwagger to do our job.

  Jet walked over to the desk. “It seems we left our manners back at the office. I am Jet and this is Travis.” He stuck out his hand and the woman took it. I was fascinated. Jet was going to use charm. This I had to see.

  “I am Anda Leske.” She had a lovely voice when she used it that did not match her average features. It was the kind of voice you wish would read you a story at bedtime, but I would have expected that voice to belong to a beautiful princess waiting to be rescued from the old hag, not the old hag herself. Okay, I was exaggerating. She wasn’t ugly. She was just really dull, with an unpainted face and a messy blonde bun. I think my negative opinion came from the fact that we were not learning anything from her.

  “That is a lovely name. You must be a great asset to Mr. Newman.” Jet sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and scooted it forward. I followed his lead and sat down in the other chair. I did not scoot it forward but instead leaned back and observed.

  “I have only had this job for a few weeks. It is difficult for me to keep a job. I am very grateful that Mr. Newman hired me.”

  “I can understand that. I did not have much luck with jobs before Travis hired me.”

  She looked at me. “Is he a good boss?”

  Jet nodded. “Yes. He is the best.”

  Anda nodded. “You are lucky. I have not had many good bosses. Mr. Newman pays well, but he leaves at the drop of a hat. I often have to reschedule clients, which is bad for business.”

  “Plus you are left here alone.”

  As a good boss, I was wondering if I should give Jet a raise. He was doing a fantastic job.

  “Yes. But I don’t mind that too much. I am happiest when I am not talking to people.”

  Jet stood up. “It was nice to meet you, Anda. You seem very sincere and we do not want to take up any more of your time.”

  “I’m glad you understand. I need this job, and I am sure I would be fired if I told you Mr. Newman’s schedule. If you leave now, he won’t see you when he comes out of his office.”

  Jet grinned at me and I nodded. It felt like it took a week, but we had learned he was in his office right now. The next step was to follow Mr. Newman when he left his office and come back when we knew he was fully occupied elsewhere. Then all we had to do was convince Ms. Leske to let us into his office. We might have to work to earn our pay this time.

  We both stood up to leave. Jet walked to the door and I stood as still as a statue. Which I was. Of all the rotten luck. You’d think I would be used to this since it has happened all my life, but every time I turn into a statue I am surprised. At least I was inside and not in too public a place. Still, I didn’t really want Mr. Newman coming out and seeing me. It might alert him that we were on to him and his work with the Battleboys.

  Anda stared at me as if I had sprouted wings. It was more like awe than revulsion. Jet stepped in front of me because he knows I can only see straight ahead. His grin was threatening to touch his ears. You’d think it was his birthday.

  “Ms. Leske, I could use your help. My partner has a Problem. He occasionally turns into a statue. It does not last very long, but he is always embarrassed when it happens in public.”

  “Yes, I can understand that. Sporadic Statuism can be difficult to cope with.” Anda stood up and came around the desk. She laid her hand gently on my arm. It seemed more for support than out of curiosity. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Jet nodded. “I thought we might move him over by that frond greenery. Then he would be out of your way and not be noticed by anyone. He hates it when people stare at him.”

  “Yes, that is annoying. Is he heavy?”

  “He is. I could drag him by myself, but together we could probably lift him.”

  Anda patted my arm again. “Well, let’s try. There is no need to embarrass him.”

  I was beginning to wonder if Anda was an angel sent by Them to ease the burden of our Problems. She may not have looked like a divine being but she certainly acted like one. No one had ever been this nice to me. Not even Jet, who wasn’t lying when he said he often dragged me. Together they were able to move me behind the greenery, and with the large leaves providing cover I was well hidden from pryin
g eyes.

  “So what happens next?”

  “I would just forget he is here. When he changes back he will probably want to sneak out unnoticed.”

  “Then I guess I’ll just get back to work.”

  Jet shook her hand again. “Thank you for your help.” With that Jet departed and I was left feeling like a lawn ornament.

  ●●●

  After about five minutes I decided that if I had to be a statue I could not be in a better place. Whether by accident or design Jet had placed me in the corner so I could see Anda at her desk through the greenery. While she was no beauty to behold, her movements were as lovely as her voice, very fluid and sure. The one did not seem to match the other. I wondered why she had trouble keeping a job. It seemed to me that she was very competent.

  I hadn’t had time to tire of the view when the door behind Anda opened and a short man in a bad suit came out. I assumed this was our law-breaking accountant, but his clothes and demeanor did not fit the high-end office in the high-end neighborhood. I wondered who was funding him and who was funding the office.

  He stopped in front of Anda’s desk and she nodded to him. I noticed that the smile she gave Jet was missing. As they started talking I realized Jet’s grand plan. I had the smartest partner on all of Ausdine. Because of where he had placed me I could see and hear everything in the office, but no one would notice me.

  “Did you finish typing the Hyde Project notes?” Newman asked. Anda said nothing. Newman looked down and picked up a disk. “Perfect. I’ll be out of the office the next two days.”

  Anda frowned. “You have four appointments scheduled. Two of them are to finalize sales and require you to sign paperwork.”

  “Reschedule as soon as possible. I have no choice. Bigger clients than the Niagoras require me to see them.”

  “Yes, Mr. Newman. I will reschedule for you.”

  With a nod he left and Anda picked up the phone. I could hear squawking through the ear piece and see Anda close her eyes. She did not tell the caller it wasn’t her fault, or even blame Mr. Newman for the inconvenience to them all. Once the yelling quieted down she asked when they could reschedule. When that call ended she didn’t pause to react to the abuse she was receiving. Instead she called the next client immediately and got the same response. Watching and listening to her made me wonder if her troubles were not worse than my own.