P. Stormcrow

The house was exactly what she expected from a magical being, so different from the picturesque, picketed-fenced one of Mrs. Dawson’s five houses down. The old cottage crouched in the shadows of ancient trees. A dome-like roof topped the squat building, while plants of every kind grew in colorful chaos in the garden surrounding it.

“That’s weird,” Jackson muttered beside her and tilted his head back, closing his eyes.

She waited until he opened them again. “What is it?”

“There’s barely any scent of magic here,” he murmured under his breath.

She glanced at him but sucked in a breath when she noted the door swinging free. With every instinct they had trained into her, she eased the gun she had tucked in the back of her waistband out and held it in front of her, ready.

“You brought your gun?” Jackson mouthed at her with incredulity.

“Later!” She kept her voice silent but exaggerated the movements of her mouth for emphasis. This case was only half magical. Her partner had been dealing with that for so long, he had forgotten that basic things like the fact that break-ins and murders still happen.

She hoped it hadn’t escalated to any of that this time. Taking lead, she treaded up the two short steps to the porch, grateful that none of the floorboards squeaked. She pressed herself against the side of the house beside the door and opened her senses.

No movement. No signs of force entry. But that meant nothing. She readjusted her grip on her weapon and reminded herself that she was a damn excellent shot, even under pressure. 

“On three.” She signaled to him, and when he nodded, she drew air deep into her lungs behind the counter with her fingers. At three, she slid into the entrance, barely disturbing the door.

Sweep first. Examine later. She had to remind herself of that as they crossed the shadows, made longer by the late afternoon sun hitting the trees outside. 

Nothing.

Jackson frowned and shook his head.

No, it couldn’t be a dead end! No, there was someone here. She was certain of it, which was why she drew her gun in the first place. Her gut had never been wrong.

Then she heard it.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Above! Finn froze, and on the other side of the room, Jackson did the same.

The sound stopped, and footsteps replaced it. She ducked into a dark corner and waited as a ladder slid down to the floor. Seconds later, a pair of black combat boots appeared, followed by a young man dressed in equally dark cargo pants and a metal band T-shirt. He didn’t look any older than twenty.

“Freeze, FBI!” Finn stepped out of her hiding spot and pointed her firearm at him. 

“What? What the hell?” His pasty complexion grew paler, and he trembled as he held up his hands. “Wait, where’s Ma?”

Jackson motioned for her to lower her gun and she did so ever so slowly.

“There was no one here and the front door was open when we got here,” Jackson explained. 

“Damn it, Ma,” he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat. “She always forgets to close it.”

Really? Who did that these days? Finn frowned at the flimsy excuse. “Can you prove you live here?”

He jerked his head toward the framed images on the wall, hands still shaking in the air.

Right. They were so busy looking for an intruder, they hadn’t had time to study the house itself. Finn glanced at the photos and tucked her gun away at last, but remained alert. There were plenty of the boy from kids to the young man that stood before them, but that didn’t rule out guilt. He could very well still be the culprit that had caused their entire headquarters to be locked down.

They should have looked up his picture too before rushing in. Finn had always included a photo whenever she sent an info package to her field agents as an analyst, but they had rushed here so fast. She needed to get her head on straight and not let Jackson’s urgency drive her. “Are you Sunny McDaniels?”

“Yeah?” He kept his arms raised, even though no one pointed any weapons at him anymore. 

“We’re going to need to take a look around.” Finn swept her gaze across the space and a pang of doubt stabbed at her. Everything was so damn ordinary, she wasn’t certain they would find anything. Perhaps Jackson would spot something she didn’t.

“Okay. Yeah. Sure.”

The lack of protest surprised her as she was expecting to get stonewalled like the reception they had received at Inguz Tech. 

“You can put your arms down now,” Jackson chided with gentleness in his voice that continued to shock her. She thought he would have been all over the kid. “Tell us about your Ma.”

“Can I close the door?” Sunny asked.

“Yeah, of course.” Finn reached back to reassure herself that the gun was still there. Maybe the place would change as soon as it was closed like how the warehouse did. She readied herself. But as Sunny shuffled over and clicked it shut, nothing happened.

“Ah. Tell me more about your ma.” Jackson guided Sunny out of the hall toward the kitchen and nodded to Finn. He would sweet talk and she would dig. It made sense, but she still wished he’d sweep the rooms with her. She was already coming to rely on his nose.

She tuned them out as she stalked through the house, taking care to not disturb much. It wasn’t until she moved to pull the ladder down Sunny reappeared with Jackson around. “Hey, what are you guys looking for, anyway?”

A sigh escaped her lips. “We understand you registered the domain address for SIDDelivery.”

“What? Oh yeah. Wait, is that what’s this about?” He laughed and relaxed for the first time since they had arrived. “It was just some site Ma made me make for one of her friends at the senior center she worked at.” He shook her head and snorted. “I’m pretty sure the whole thing was a hoax, but she sent me all the info to put up.”

They exchanged glances, but Finn couldn’t let it go so fast. “Can you show me the original request?”

“Oh yeah. Come on up.”

The kid was trusting. Too trusting. It made her even more suspicious, like none of his behaviour added up, but it was hard for her to find fault with what was happening as they followed Sunny up the ladder.

She still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else going on as they reached the attic-turned-bachelor pad. Sunny didn’t waste any time though in leading them straight to his desk, right under the little window. But all Finn could think about was how this wasn’t a one floor house like she had thought before. She stared at the filtered light streaming in and illuminating the place. A scene straight out of some fairy tale 

“Here.” He pointed at his laptop monitor.

Jackson and she both leaned forward to peer at the words on the screen. Truth enough, it was all there I clouding both requirements and timeframe. She didn’t need to even Sunny to open the attachments to surmise their contents. 

“So who’s this Lacey James?”

“Oh, she’s a friend of Ma’s. They work at the senior center out of that community park just down the street. If Ma’s not home, she’s probably there with Lacey now, running bingo for the old ladies there or something.”

Lacey James. Lacey James. The name rolled around in her head, and she nodded. It was not a common one. That must have been why it was sticking so hard in the forefront of her mind. “Thanks for your help.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

They made their way down the ladder, and Sunny saw them out. But it wasn’t until they returned to Finn’s car and got in that she leaned back with a groan. “This is like a wild goose chase.”

“We have to follow the lead.” But there was something wrong with Jackson’s voice, as if his heart wasn’t into it. Given the conviction he had to pursue the case before, his new tone made alarms go off in Finn’s mind.

“You okay?” She turned to face Jackson, but he stared back at her with faraway eyes.

“Yeah.”

His reply was far from reassuring. Haunted. He had that same expression earlier. They needed to make some real progress fast. It drove her to step on the gas pedal a little harder, to push her little second-handed car a little faster as they left the house.

It took only fifteen minutes to get to the community center, but that time seemed to have helped clear her mind. With new purpose in her steps, she exited the vehicle and gave her partner a firm nod when he did the same, seeming more himself than he was back before.

They made their way up, past the sliding doors and to the counter where a woman was tapping away at the computer.

“Hi, we’re looking for Lacey James?” Jackson flashed her a smile, one that set even Finn at ease.

The staff barely glanced up at her monitor, but gestured to the right. “Room five down that way.”

“Thanks.”

They walked through the hall, their footsteps echoing before them, soon replaced by chatter and cheering. Finn checked on her partner once more and was once again reassured by the more determined set of his lips. 

They slipped in, neither of them wanting to cause a scene amongst the crowd of white and silver haired seniors. 

That was, until the woman that was handing out bingo cards met Finn’s eyes and froze. In an almost comical moment, she tossed the papers up in the air, turned, and ran for the back door.

Jackson groaned. “Why do they always run?”

Without bothering with a reply, Finn sucked in a breath and gave chase.