Conjured

The two agents watched her.

Eve circled the perimeter of the room. Her reflection followed her, crisp on the silver. She saw no reason for this empty room to be guarded, and she didn’t know why she’d been so sure this was her destination. This … this was nothing.

“You were expecting a big breakthrough, weren’t you?” Aunt Nicki said to Malcolm.

Eve felt empty inside, as empty as the room.

Malcolm held his hand out to Eve. “Come with me.” He sounded tired and sad. “There’s still time.”

“Not much,” Aunt Nicki said softly. “Not much.”

Eve crossed the room and took Malcolm’s hand. His hand was warm, but she felt cold inside and out.

Chapter Four

Eve let the agents lead her out of the silver room. On her right, Malcolm cupped Eve’s elbow gently. On her left, Aunt Nicki gripped Eve’s upper arm so hard that Eve could feel each fingernail denting her flesh, as if Aunt Nicki’s nails were coated in steel instead of wine-red nail polish. Eve felt numb inside, as if every ounce of energy had been drained by her failure.

As she and the agents exited, Eve saw that the security guards were staring at them. Both Aunt Nicki and Malcolm ignored the guards, but Eve stared back. One guard flinched and looked away. Surveillance cameras swiveled to record them as they passed through the other doors. The second set of guards did not react.

Aunt Nicki stabbed the elevator button with her index finger. In silence, Eve watched the numbers flick up to five. The doors slid open, and the two agents shepherded Eve into the elevator. Pivoting in sync, they flanked her, and Malcolm pressed number three. The elevator doors slid shut. Neither agent looked at her.

The elevator lurched downward, and tinny music echoed. Eve listened to it and pictured a carousel, shrouded in fog. A memory? A vision? Neither?

Aunt Nicki said to Malcolm, “Lou is going to rip out one of your balls.”

“So long as it’s not the right one,” Malcolm said. “Right one’s made of steel.”

“He’ll rip it out, pickle it, and display it at the holiday party between the poinsettias.”

The music swelled. A thin, sour flute squeaked the melody. Eve tried to think of something, anything, to say to the two agents, especially to Malcolm, who had believed in her.

“Man of Steel Balls or not, Lou has your kryptonite,” Aunt Nicki said. “You can count on it. Whatever it is, he’ll have ferreted it out. It’s his modus operandi.”

“She is my sole concern,” Malcolm said. “He knows that.”

The elevator lurched to a stop, and the doors opened. Eve saw drab brown walls. A plaque directed visitors to the reception desk. “I remember this place,” Eve said. She meant it as a peace offering—at least her mind hadn’t utterly betrayed her.

“Fantastic.” Aunt Nicki shoved Eve forward into the hall.

Malcolm strode past her, and Eve trailed after him. She did remember the third floor. She’d spent days here before they’d moved her to the house on Hall Avenue. She knew the blue carpet, worn in spots and patched with duct tape. She knew the fake plants, brilliant green and coated in dust. Several office doors were shut, but a few were open, and she saw file cabinets and chairs, framed diplomas on the walls, family photos and coffee mugs on the desks—all familiar.

Eve stopped outside Malcolm’s office. A brass nameplate was nailed next to the door: MALCOLM HARRINGTON, US MARSHAL. A red, white, and blue flag on a toothpick was wedged into the top of the nameplate. She touched the flag.

“You put that there,” Malcolm said.

She nodded. “It was on a cake.”

“Yippee-ki-yay. She remembers desserts.” Aunt Nicki pushed past Eve into Malcolm’s office and flopped into the desk chair. Head back and eyes closed, Aunt Nicki spun the chair in a circle.

The cake had been served at a party for Malcolm. Red, white, and blue frosting. Vanilla inside. He’d brought Eve a piece with the toothpick flag on it, and she’d eaten it in his office curled up in one of the worn leather chairs. She’d saved the toothpick.

“You’re in my chair,” Malcolm said to Aunt Nicki.

“You won’t be able to use it for a while,” Aunt Nicki said. “You are about to be spanked.” She dropped her feet hard on the floor to quit spinning, but she didn’t open her eyes.

Eve heard footsteps in the hall behind them. She started to turn to see, but Malcolm propelled her into the office. He shut the door behind him. “You shouldn’t take such glee in this,” Malcolm said, again to Aunt Nicki.

“I take zero glee.” Opening her eyes, Aunt Nicki looked at Malcolm. Her expression was serious. “I know as well as you what’s at stake.”