by JL Bryan
I kept stealing glances toward the closed door to Kara's office, like an abused dog fearful of its master's return. I imagined her in there, snickering each time I looked at her door.
Maybe she wasn't even in there. I could very well have been quaking in fear of an empty office.
“And that brings us to a little gadget called the new Lourdes Multi-Detector 7300—or, as I like to call it the Monster Sniffer. So who wants lunch?” he asked, incredibly, as if the wastebasket next to his desk wasn't brimming with candy wrappers and potato chip bags. “I'm thinking Krystal. You think they'll let me buy a bucket of that chili cheese sauce?”
“Wait, what does the Monster Sniffer do?” Stacey asked. I slumped in my chair, unable to fathom why Stacey would ask a follow-up question when he'd finally, mercifully, suggested a break.
“I'm glad you asked!” Hayden said, moving closer to Stacey. He drew his sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. “That's just the kind of thing I like talking about over lunch. I bet you love Krystal burgers.” He looked her over carefully. “No, wait. Krystal Chiks. The little fried-chicken sandwiches?”
“Eh, sorry. I don't really eat...” Stacey's face scrunched up, and I watched her struggle to come up with a response that wouldn't lead to another invitation to another place. “...anything.”
“You don't eat anything?”
“Yeah, it's a popular new diet,” she said. “You've probably read about it.”
“Nah, man,” he said. “You should come to Krystal and educate me.”
“Krystal isn't happening.” I stood and stretched out my legs, which had grown a little stiff and sleepy with all the sitting. “I need Stacey's help with something during our lunch break.”
“I'm good at helping!” Hayden said.
“It's girl stuff,” I added.
“I'm good with girl stuff, bro! My wrestling coach always told me I was the most girly boy he'd ever met,” Hayden said.
“Sorry.” I took Stacey's arm. “I'm sure you and Stacey will have plenty of time to lunch together in the future.”
"Oh, yeah?" Hayden beamed at her.
“Yeah...what?” Stacey asked. “I mean, uh, sorry. We gotta go.”
We eventually made it out to the parking lot, where we ducked through the rain—just a drizzle now, but still coming down—and climbed into Stacey's green Escape.
“All right," Stacey said, starting the car. With her other hand, she smeared blond hair back from her face. "Why did you imply I'd want to spend more time with him in the future?"
"Maybe he grows on you," I said.
"Yeah, like a fungus." Stacey frowned, letting her car idle while she contemplated deep thoughts. Rain spattered on the windshield. "You know, there's not much that can grow on you that's really positive. I mean, what actually grows on you? Germs? Lice? Zits? Warts?"
"Hair," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but mostly in places where you don't really want it."
"Let's go get lunch before I lose my appetite," I said.
Then a dark shape appeared in the passenger window beside me, suddenly blotting out what sunlight there was. I jumped, startled, and turned to see Tina there under a black umbrella. She was smiling, as if she'd enjoyed frightening me for half a second.
I lowered the window. "Yeah? We're about to go. I guess if you really want us to bring you something—"
"Kara wants to see you immediately," she told me. "I texted you."
My phone chimed.
"There it is," she said.
"Can't it wait until after lunch?" I asked.
"Aw, do you not know what 'immediately' means?" She gave me a sad, pitying look.
"Yeah, okay, very funny." I was already feeling sick again. I didn't know what Kara wanted with me this time, but it was just like her to make me think I was finally escaping into the freedom and comfort of a lunch break, then reel me right back in for more unpleasantness.
As I stepped back out into the rain, drawing my hood close once again, I felt a fresh eruption of fear rising from deep within me. I was terrified of Kara, and I hated that she made me feel that way.
I steeled myself for what was sure to be a hateful experience.
Chapter Six
I dashed through the drizzling rain to the door, then stopped outside it. Tina remained planted outside Stacey's SUV.
"What is it?" I called back. My heart was thumping. I was far from eager to see Kara, but I also recognized that I had no choice. Therefore, better to get it over with as soon as possible. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Or major surgery, minus the anesthetic. "Why are we waiting?"
Tina pointed to Stacey, still inside the idling Escape. "She's coming, too."
"Does she know that?"
Stacey killed the engine and headlights, then opened the door and dropped out. "I just got a text to go see Kara, too." She looked at Tina. "Why didn't you just tell me to my face five seconds ago?"
Tina shrugged and nudged past me, returning inside to her receptionist's desk without another word.
"Millennials," I muttered, shaking my head. "Zero social skills."
"Aren't we millennials?" Stacey asked.
"I'm including myself. Let's go see what the vampire queen wants."
Stacey and I crossed the lobby. I tried the door to the workshop, then sighed when I realized it was locked again.
"This is really getting annoying," I said to Tina.
"Oh, did you forget your badge again?" she asked without looking up.
"Got mine." Stacey leaned past me and swiped a card with her face and the PSI logo on it.
"Where?" I asked.
"From Hayden. He had it ready for me when I got here this morning."
"How sweet. And you still turned him down for lunch at Krystal." I shook my head. "Cold, Stacey. Ice cold."
We fell silent as we entered to the workshop. I started toward the closed door to Kara's office, with about as much enthusiasm as I would have approached the gates of an abandoned funeral home on a dark and stormy night.
It helped to have Stacey at my side, but it also gave me someone else to worry about.
I clenched my fist until my nails bit into my palm. Toughen up, I told myself. I thought about my kickboxing teacher, Shondra, a girl half my size but strong as a tiger. Protect yourself, she'd told me once. Keep your guard up. Be patient while you watch for your chance...then strike.
Hm. I suppose that could apply to situations beyond kickboxing.
I couldn't say I felt much tougher, but I put on a brave face and grabbed the handle to Kara's office door with one sweaty palm. I might have felt scared, but I refused to look it. I willed my hand not to tremble, my face to look impassive, my eyes to look as cold as Kara's did.
The doorknob refused to turn. I walked facefirst into the door, smacking my nose.
"Oh, come on!" I stepped back. The badge sensor was built into the wall a couple of feet away, tucked under another huge, abstract crystalline picture. "Stacey?"
"Her badge won't work." Hayden stepped up, grinning, and waved his own at the small scanner.
The tiny red light failed to turn green. He frowned and waved it again, then again.
Finally, there was a heavy clunking sound as the door unlocked. It swung open slowly. Nobody stood on the other side.
"Whoa, cool," Hayden said, budging in front of me as he stepped into Kara's office. He gazed in wonder at the door, like a small child encountering an escalator for the first time. "You've got a remote for your door, huh? Man, I should get one of those. If I had a door. Or an office."
"Stop wasting time," Kara said from within.
I reluctantly followed Hayden into Kara's office. It was a measure of how much she scared me that I actually felt relieved to be standing slightly behind Hayden. Not that he would protect me if she decided to attack. Maybe I could somehow dodge behind him, though, and let him take the brunt of it.
Kara's desk was marble, blue-veined, parked like a glacier in the corner of the new room. She'd hu
ng more of the sharp-crystal artwork here. Two uncomfortable-looking antique wooden chairs faced Kara across her desk.
Kara sat behind the desk, not rising as we entered, looking us over coolly with her pale blue eyes. She seemed abnormally dressed up—a black pinstriped jacket and matching pants, a black blouse with an actual hint of lace along the top. Her hair and make-up looked like they'd been done professionally that morning.
She said nothing as the three of us assembled ourselves in front of her desk, almost like recruits in some cheesy military movie, ready to get chewed out by the sergeant for not making our beds correctly or whatever. Even Hayden's smile faltered at Kara's stony stare. He was afraid of her, too.
Stacey didn't look quite so scared, but she did gape at Kara a little.
Kara's hand dipped behind her desk, and the door silently closed behind us.
"It's looking really good in here," Hayden said, as if he could somehow warm things up. "Is that like a faux finish on your paint job? It's cool, very low-key—"
"Quiet," Kara said, and I could hear Hayden's teeth clack as his jaw snapped shut.
Kara resumed looking over the three of us, stretching out the silence. My gaze dropped to the floor whenever she glanced toward me. I was like a whipped dog. I told myself I was just acting the way she wanted me to act in hopes of getting through this meeting and back out the door as quickly as possible. I told myself I wasn't actually this weak and submissive in her presence, not at all.
I told myself that this couldn't go on forever. If she didn't leave, I would have to find a way. She'd told me that quitting was not an option, like it was the mafia or the CIA or something. Surely she was just being dramatic. Maybe her supernatural ability made her overestimate her power in all things.
"Your performance on your last case was pathetic." That was how Kara decided to open the conversation. "The one truly interesting and powerful ghost was allowed to escape. I cannot say that any of you represented this organization well."
Personally, I was happy with how the previous case had gone. We'd removed the dangerous ghost haunting the baby's room in our client's home. I didn't dare speak up, though.
Hayden looked like he wanted to protest, then thought better of it and closed his mouth again.
"I am reluctant to place the two of you on another case without additional training, which you so badly and so obviously need." She looked between Stacey and me. "However, this location is desperate for cash flow. We have a potential client who could provide a great deal of it. So I must balance my embarrassment at your poor performance with my duty to make this hopeless operation appear successful to the Board of Directors. I will take the lead when we meet with this client. You will keep quiet and look professional. The client is high-profile, so confidentiality is essential. We must all sign nondisclosure agreements specific to the case."
"Sounds cool! Who is it?" Hayden asked.
Kara sliced an annoyed look in his direction. "She is a famous American film actor who has recently purchased a vacation home on Tybee Island. She believes the home may be haunted. Whatever she says at our initial meeting, I am going to recommend several nights of observation. You will all support me in this."
"Even if it turns out to be groaning pipes?" Stacey asked. "Or bats in the attic?"
"We need the revenue. And she can easily afford it." Kara looked at me steadily. "Unless someone wishes to protest."
"Depends who the actress is," I said. "Maybe it'll be someone nasty that we don't mind soaking for money."
"Your opinion of the client is of no importance," Kara said. "The client's opinion of you is extremely important. I need all of you to return here looking your best, in your finest clothes, by three p.m. Stacey, can you do something about her?" She pointed at me.
"Oh, yeah, definitely," Stacey said. "I know what you mean."
I tossed Stacey a little scowl.
"So that's why you're wearing Armani today," Stacey added. "We're meeting a movie star."
"We are not just meeting her, we are convincing her to hand over a great deal of money," Kara said. "We are selling her the fullest package of services we can offer. The deluxe package."
"What's the deluxe package?" I asked.
"Anything that can be added to make our visit more expensive," Kara said.
"It's nice to know we're still doing what's best for our clients." Stacey glanced at me. She was probably expecting me to resist and rebel, to refuse to maximize revenue at the expense of honesty.
"Let's do it," I said. "We'll flood her house with the most expensive gear we have. We'll use all the gear in this building. Why not?"
Stacey looked horror-struck by my words. Kara's eyebrows raised slightly, a sign of shocked surprise. She'd expected me to resist, too.
"Okay, Stacey, lead the way to my makeover," I said. "Let's try to do it montage-fashion so it'll be over fast. After Kara's done with us, of course."
"I am done," Kara said. "When you return, I expect you to wear nothing garish. Nothing like...whatever this is." She gestured at my old jeans and frayed t-shirt.
"But who's the big celeb?" Stacey asked. "Can you spill?"
Kara gave a razor-thin smile. "For purposes of security...no."
"Aw, man." Stacey shook her head. "Can you give us any clues? Like her Kevin Bacon number?"
"What is this Bacon number?" Kara asked.
"Oh, come on," Hayden said. "Have you never played Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? You try to connect an actor to Kevin Bacon by way of other actors—"
"So this Kevin Bacon is a film actor?" Kara asked.
"What is wrong with you?" Hayden asked. Then he froze and turned white, probably remembering who he was talking to. "I mean...uh, yeah."
"Go and make yourselves presentable." Kara looked me over with disgust. "You will obviously need lots of time to make that happen. So begin now."
The door opened silently behind us. When we left the office, it closed just as silently.
"I can't believe she's never heard of Kevin Bacon," Hayden mumbled. "Her Kevin Bacon number is probably about a thousand."
"Any idea who we're meeting with?" I asked Hayden.
"I'm hoping for Andi MacDowell," he said.
"Seriously?" Stacey asked.
"What? Have you ever seen Multiplicity? Dude, that's like my favorite movie!" he replied.
"I should not have asked a follow-up question," Stacey said. Now she was learning.
"Stacey and I have to go do something about my unspeakably hideous face, hair, and clothing now," I told him, while grabbing her arm and steering her toward the nearest exit.
"Good luck!" Hayden said. He opened the drawer to his desk, took out a couple of double-stuffed Oreos, and crammed them into his mouth. "Bet you guys'll look hot," he added, spraying chocolate cookie crumbs and white sugary filling.
Stacey and I headed out into the rain again. The prospect of spending hours in Kara's company later in the afternoon loomed ahead, like an old dark tower leaning hard and falling my way.
Chapter Seven
If you're looking for an actual cutesy scene where Stacey and I prance around doing each other's hair while loud pop music attempts to make it all seem fun and interesting, well, that's not really what happened.
I did go home and put on the best stuff I had. It would've been nice to have some idea who this celebrity was going to be, at least whether we were talking about more of a Margot Robbie or more of a Betty White.
Maybe the whole thing was a joke by Kara. I could believe Kara was lying, but it was hard to believe she would do it for a lark. It was hard to believe she would do anything for a lark. She wasn't the larky type.
I had no intention of having Stacey fix up my hair and makeup as if I were some little kid with muddy feet who had to made presentable before church.
Stacey, though, seemed to have intentions of doing exactly that. She crowded up the bathroom beside me, giving way too much advice, then touching my face and hair way too many times. I guess
the montage was happening for her, at least.
"Who do you think it's going to be?" she kept asking. "Maybe Emma Watson? Or Emma Stone? Or even...no. Emmylou Harris?"
She went through this with a number of different names. It dragged for a while, but nothing took as long as going to Stacey's apartment and waiting for her to try on different outfits. She was really nervous about impressing the alleged movie star client. It was getting on my nerves.
"It could be someone we've never really heard of," I said, pacing Stacey's room impatiently.
"You, maybe," Stacey said, studying herself in her mirror as she turned back and forth, trying on a cocktail dress that looked like it was made of crushed red flowers. "What do you think?"
"I think you have to be joking. We're going to meet a client. It's not a party."
"So I have to dress all dowdy like you?"
"This is not dowdy." I looked down at my regular black pant suit. "This is professional."
"Professionally boring."
"Dress yourself down, Stacey."
Stacey pouted as she changed into a more proper ensemble with a jacket and pants.
"Fine," she sighed, triple-checking her hair. "Do you think we have time—"
"No. We're about to be late. I don't mind keeping Kara waiting, but there's also a client."
"Right. I'm so excited. Aren't you excited?"
I shrugged. "I guess I'm excited...that you're excited?"
"Me, too!" She grabbed both my hands and squealed, then jumped up and down a little. "Okay. I had to get that out of my system now in case I feel like doing it later but can't because, you know, society."
"I'm sure Kara's blowing it out of proportion, just to be dramatic," I said. "Or maybe it'll be somebody who's only popular in Russia."
"You mean like Jerry Lewis?"
