The clerk slowly lifted his bloodshot eyes from a magazine. He leered at Christie and me, then rolled his eyes with disgust at Captious before returning to the magazine. “Who’s asking?”
Captious just shook his head. We followed him around the counter, along a short hall, and into an open office door. Chief Dalrymple perched behind a massive desk of polished mahogany, his pale orange hair spiked perfectly. Stacks of papers cluttered the corners of the enormous desk.
“Chief, I think I have LaReau’s victim,” Captious said.
The night was full of surprises. How did they know? Then I realized this must have been the big mission Andy and the Kilodan were on tonight. They had arranged for LaReau’s capture. But how was Captious involved?
Dalrymple’s stern gaze fell on Captious, then softened when he saw Christie and me. “Hi, honey, what’s your name?”
Christie squeezed closer to me and stared at the floor.
“She’s Christie Jasmine,” I said. “She’s ten.”
Dalrymple’s eyes got wide, and his face became absolutely charming. “Well now, how do you know this, Miss Noelle?”
“She’s my sister’s friend. How do you know me?”
Dalrymple smiled. He had a surprisingly kind smile. “I know your father.” Then to Christie, “Is that your name, dear?”
Christie nodded and turned her face up. “I want to go home.”
“And you will, very soon.” Dalrymple shuffled through the papers on his desk and pulled one out of the stack. He picked up the phone and punched some numbers. “Hello, Mrs. Jasmine? This is Police Chief Maximilian Dalrymple. My apologies for calling at such a late hour, but I have some very good news for you.”
After he hung up, Dalrymple turned to Captious. “Our source never mentioned this one. How did you find her?”
“Right place, right time.” Captious smiled his smug little poodle smile.
Dalrymple’s eyes narrowed. “Good work, Ben. You’ll have to fill me in. In the meantime, why don’t you take the girls into the file room to wait for Christie’s parents? The lobby is crowded, and Christie has seen enough slime, I think, to last her a lifetime.”
I followed Captious as he led Christie down the hall. He opened the door to a dark room, felt for the light switch, and motioned us in. A desk and some chairs were crammed against one wall. Filing cabinets squished together on the other. In between was cramped and dingy and packed with cardboard boxes, dusty old newspapers, broken furniture…and spider webs everywhere.
Captious sat on the desk and motioned us toward the chairs. I sat beside Christie and caressed her hair. She leaned against me and smiled, like she was coming out of a trance. Captious was back to his old self, talking incessantly, but I didn’t pay attention. I needed to figure out what was up with him, but not tonight. I relaxed, content that my mission wasn’t a total failure. LaReau was in chains. Scallion was still out there, but Christie was safe. The night had begun to catch up with me, and I was ready for bed. I surveyed the room, wondering how long we’d be stuck waiting.
Suddenly, I caught my breath. The floor! Black and white squares of linoleum tile, like a massive chess board…I tore my gaze to the door, and there, in the frosted window, was a hole, just the right size to spy through from the other side. Fear flooded my mind.
I was sitting in the room where Amos Munificent was murdered.
Chapter Fifteen
Captious's Secret
While Captious blabbed to Christie about how everything would be okay, I desperately tried to remember what I saw in my vision of Mr. Munificent’s murder. There was something important in this room. Where was Andy and his MPU 3000 when I needed him? I studied the tiny room, looking for anything that might spark recognition. Spider-filled corners, chairs stacked on chairs, tile, door with a spy-hole, an old typewriter. Nothing clicked.
Then I saw it. There in the midst of five black, shiny new filing cabinets sat a dull green one, battered, out of place—instantly, Mr. Munificent’s image, soggy with sweat, zipped through my mind. He leaned beside the ugly cabinet, his hand clutching the drawer, second from the top. He forced it closed, when a shadow appeared outside the frosted glass window.
Suddenly, the office door opened and I nearly jumped out of my chair.
“There’s someone here to see you, Christie,” Dalrymple said as he strolled through the doorway.
I definitely needed sleep.
“Christie,” a woman sobbed, shouldering her way past Dalrymple. She scooped Christie out of the chair. “Christie, thank you, God, thank you. Everything is all right, now, honey. It’s all right.”
Christie simply nodded and buried her face in her mother’s neck. “Momma.”
“Ma’am.” Dalrymple placed his hand on her shoulder. “I want to get you out of here as quickly as possible, but I need to ask a few questions, and we’ll have to examine Christie. The doctor is on her way.”