Fifteen minutes later Okane came back downstairs, unsteady as if in a haze.
“Okane? Are you okay?” Laura called.
Okane turned to face her, stared, then tottered over. A foot away, he whispered, “Everything.”
“What?”
“Everything but a box. He left everything else to me.”
Mrs. Keedler smiled and nodded as if she expected this, but he still looked baffled. Laura laughed.
“What did I tell you?”
Elinor stayed upstairs to begin the inventory process. When he recovered, Okane explained that, since he was the heir, she wasn’t afraid he’d make off with anything (it was his, why bother stealing it?), but otherwise he would’ve had to find somewhere else to live in the meantime. Of course, just because his name was in the will didn’t mean he’d get everything. If Clae had any outstanding debts, some things might need to be sold to settle them. He informed them of this in a mechanical tone. Laura suspected he was regurgitating what Elinor told him. As it was, he’d claimed all things in the twins’ room as his instead of Clae’s, so Elinor had agreed to close the door and ignore everything inside; the crystals would escape notice easily.
“It feels like things are going too well,” he said, actually bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Does that make sense?”
“Sometimes you should just accept the good,” Mrs. Keedler chuckled.
Okane didn’t look convinced. “I feel like I should be making tea for her or something. Is that—But if I give her some now, then I won’t have any tea leaves left for when Juliana and Lester show up.”
“They have been gone awhile,” said Laura, squinting at the windows. “Usually they’re early. Of all the days to be late, they’re missing out on scones.”
She almost wished they wouldn’t come at all. Ever since the Sundown infestation, Juliana had seemed … off. She kept smiling, kept up the motions, but where she’d been encouraging and almost oversharing before, she became abruptly distant. Lester’s graze didn’t impede his movement or personality, so that hadn’t caused it. Was it frustration over the lack of recovered Gin stones? Had Laura somehow caused it? She’d agonized over it to Morgan, who’d told her that any boss with more talented underlings was on the road to success; a jealous boss who punished talent would only get themselves killed in the Sweeping game, and hadn’t Juliana been so eager to do well? Wasn’t she a good boss?
“I’ll get more tea,” said Okane. “The grocery store isn’t far.”
“But isn’t that woman expecting to deal with you?” said Laura.
“She said she’d be upstairs for a while. Just make sure no one else goes up there, and it’ll be fine.”
“But—”
“Think of this as training. I’m going to run really fast.”
So he was still hooked on figuring out magic. Better this than flinging himself off rooftops.
Laura sighed. “Do what you want.”
Okane made for the door. He leapt from the front stoop with enough force that his magic gave an audible pop. Laura hadn’t heard his magic like that except in infestations, so she jumped almost as badly as Mrs. Keedler.
“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Keedler blinked down at her teacup. “Did I really hear that?”
“It must’ve come from upstairs,” said Laura.
The MacDanels arrived around ten o’clock, laden with stacks of papers. Almost every day they’d gone in person to appeal to various offices and track down elusive contacts to get things back on track. Juliana’s claim to get going as soon as stores opened had been anything but a lie.
“Good morning!” Juliana beamed. “Good weather, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” Laura agreed.
Mrs. Keedler looked thrilled. “You’re the new Sweepers! I’m Georgia Keedler. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”
Juliana looked pleasantly surprised and shook the other woman’s hand with gusto. “It’s good to meet you too! I’m Juliana MacDanel, the new head Sweeper.”
“You’re the head Sweeper! Good to see another woman in charge,” Mrs. Keedler laughed.
“Oh? What are you in charge of?”
“The bakery just up the street. I suppose we’re neighbors now!”
They seemed to get along well. Laura watched their conversation with mixed feelings. Juliana wormed her way in everywhere, to the point it was almost scary. No, “intimidating” would be the better word. Good social skills. Lester drifted to the side, still holding the papers. Only one stool remained open but he didn’t take it—perhaps he was waiting for Juliana to do so. Mrs. Keedler noticed the seating problem quickly.
“Oh!” She leapt up. “I’ve taken your chair. There aren’t enough in here, I always told him—”
“It’s fine!”
“No, I need to be heading back anyway. You know that husband of mine,” she added to Laura, rolling her eyes.
“Helpless, that one,” Laura drawled.
“Give it another five minutes and he’ll be captain of a sinking ship. I’d best get back before the noon crowd comes in. It was good to see and meet you. Thank you for the tea, dear.”
Juliana hummed as the door closed behind their guest. “She seems nice enough.”
“She’s our most sociable neighbor,” said Laura. “Have you met the others yet?”
“Only in passing,” said Juliana. “Mr. Brecht is … a character. And I’m under the impression that the pawnshop owner doesn’t like me.”
“I get the same impression about myself,” said Laura. “They’re very supportive of Sweepers, though. If you ever need a hand, they’re willing to help.”
“Pardon my saying so, but it’s a miracle they would be, considering Clae Sinclair’s attitude,” said Juliana.
Laura shrugged. “He was a surprising person.”
“I’m sure he was.” Juliana set down her smaller stack of papers and looked around. “Speaking of Sinclairs, where did Okane go?”
“Just down to the grocery store,” said Laura. “He ran out of tea.”
“Hopefully he’ll be back soon. I wanted to check with you two about—Lester, what are you looking at out there?”
Lester started guiltily and looked away from the window. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if it’s caught your attention.” She walked to the window and squinted out of it. “Who is that?”
Curious, Laura joined them. Across the street stood a man in a long coat and bowler hat. The style wasn’t exactly distinctive, but she was sure she’d seen that exact hat somewhere, and it wasn’t Byron’s.
It was the Mad Dogs negotiator, who’d spoken to them after the Falling Infestation. He’d brought his mob’s Sweepers down to help them and left without any other acknowledgment. More than likely he had something to do with the Dead Ringer.
“I’ve seen him before,” said Laura. “I’ll take care of him.”
She left before the MacDanels could protest. The negotiator looked up as she approached. Laura crossed her arms and hoped she looked properly intimidating.
“Are you the one I have to thank for the media attention?” she asked. “Because if you were looking to help me, all you’ve managed to do is tarnish my reputation and land me in trouble with the Silver Kings.”
“We don’t mean to make things difficult for you, Miss Kramer,” said the negotiator. “If involvement with the Silver Kings could’ve been avoided we’d have done it. In fact, I’m not even supposed to be involved here. I’m meant to come and go again rather quickly. If you’d like to chat, you’ll need to make an appointment.”
She raised a brow. “Really? You’re loitering and claiming you’re on a tight schedule, all at once?”
The negotiator smiled. “Think of this as a pre-appointment. I’m here to set up a meeting with Lester MacDanel.”
Oh, hell no. Laura widened her stance.
“Sorry, but whatever nonsense your coworker at the shooting range implied, there’s no connection here. Lester’s got no ties to mobs, and I’m not
about to let you sink your claws into him.”
“Such authority, and no title to back it up,” the negotiator chuckled. “Regardless, there’s no attempt at recruitment here. Lester’s the one who requested I come out.”
She faltered. “What?”
“What a mess,” the negotiator sighed, checking his watch. “I’ve been here thirty minutes already. When he walked past earlier he completely ignored me, and now he’s peeking out windows but not coming out. Whatever setup this is, it’s not very well done.”
“What do you mean, Lester set this up?”
“My esteemed colleague came to monitor you at the shooting range. You remember, right? In that ‘payoff,’ Lester passed him a message asking for us to drop by and wait. No explanation why. We thought this might be the bridge to speaking with you.” He looked up and feigned surprise. “Oh, dear. Didn’t Mr. Sinclair leave the building not long ago? I wonder who’s left inside.”
Laura’s insides froze. She’d been so focused on the obvious mobster, she hadn’t thought about what she was leaving behind. She dashed back in, ignoring his call of “We’ll speak with you soon, Miss Kramer!” Juliana wasn’t in the main shop. Lester made a noise and moved as if to block her, but Laura was faster. She raced up the stairs, and stopped short in the flat’s entryway.
Juliana was in the wider area of the kitchen, smiling. Elinor had placed herself to block the hallway, five feet and three inches of determination, unknowingly protecting the man whose estate she was handling. The pair of them looked alien here. This was a place dominated by the past, by Sweepers; the only people who belonged up here were Okane and Clae. Juliana shouldn’t be anywhere near the place where Clae had done headstands and drilled Laura about upcoming jobs, but there she was, usurping his home like she’d done his title. Laura’s blood boiled.
“What’s going on here?”
The sharpness of her tone made them both jump.
“Oh, Laura!” said Juliana. “Just in time! I was just looking to see if there was some tea left after all.”
“And I was asking her to leave,” said Elinor. “I believe I made it clear that I was inventorying Mr. Sinclair’s estate? Okane Sinclair I’ll allow to be here, given that this is his home, but other people coming and going would disrupt the process.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” said Laura, but she was glaring daggers at Juliana. “I believe I made it clear that this isn’t Sweeper property, and that Sweepers aren’t allowed up here.”
Elinor took a step back; she obviously sensed that this was personal territory, and wanted nothing to do with it.
Juliana, on the other hand, looked completely unrepentant. “Sorry! I’m just so used to Puer, I forget Amicae’s so much smaller. We always had extra tea or coffee supplies in the back room, but yours is dedicated to the Kin, so I thought perhaps it would be upstairs. Puer had multiple floors, of course.”
Of course, because Puer was supposedly better in everything. But how could Juliana, who picked up on the smallest details in her meetings with the Council, have possibly missed such a glaring fact about her own office space? The only conclusion was that she hadn’t. Had the MacDanels seriously gone so far as to trick a Mad Dog into playing distraction so they could poke around for whatever Clae left behind?
Laura clenched her hands. She tried to focus all her anger there, leaving her voice calm as she said, “As far as I’m concerned, I should still be head Sweeper, but I think I’ve handled the Council’s decision pretty well. I do appreciate you being here, I recognize you’re talented, and I do recognize you as the new boss, but if you keep on with petty little lies, that respect won’t be around much longer.”
For a moment, absolute loathing flashed over Juliana’s face. It was so different from the usual smiling mask that Laura’s anger wavered. The smile was back so fast, it seemed almost as if it had never changed.
“What a shame!” Juliana said brightly. “And here I thought we’d begun a wonderful partnership.” She kicked the cupboard door closed behind her. “I think it’s obvious that I won’t find what I’m looking for here. I hope Okane brings back that tea quickly.”
She stepped past Laura and headed downstairs.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Laura muttered.
“I’m not involved, and I have no wish to be,” said Elinor. Still, she seemed to relax now that Juliana was gone.
Going back downstairs, Laura found Juliana and Lester bent over their new paperwork. They acted totally normal, as if the whole episode were commonplace. Laura wanted to sit down and start demanding answers. If the negotiator had been so transparent and the Dead Ringer so supportive, surely there was some truth in the mobster’s words, back at the shooting range? What deep dark secrets are you hiding? Oh, yes, MacDanel, we heard about that. In the next moment she scolded herself. Since when did she consider mobsters a trustworthy source of information?
Calm down, she thought, rubbing at her temples. You’re making a bigger deal of this than it needs to be.
So what if Juliana went upstairs? She hadn’t seen anything, hadn’t stolen anything. If she’d truly forgotten once, today would reinforce the fact that the Sweeper shop began and ended on one floor. Lesson learned. Time to move on.
Little changed. Okane returned eventually, some conversation was had, and Juliana remained distant. Okane knew immediately that something had happened, and eyed Laura for most of the day. She told him what had happened when the MacDanels and Elinor finally left. Predictably, he didn’t like the idea of strangers going upstairs. Laura assured him that she’d made it clear Juliana was unwelcome.
“A little too clear,” she grumbled. “I think I overreacted.”
Okane scoffed. “They called in a Mad Dog for a distraction. If they had a day and time scheduled for that, obviously they meant to go up there on purpose. They counted on - - - confronting him, but they didn’t count on him being so agreeable, or on Elinor already being there. It was premeditated, just poorly executed.”
“But that only takes care of me,” said Laura. “They couldn’t have counted on you running to the grocery store on a whim! What would they have done, if you were still—”
“Why would I be in the shop if - - - were outside?”
“What?”
“- - - have to admit, I tend to follow - - - around,” said Okane. “They probably counted on me following - - - to face off with the mobster.”
At least they weren’t outright belligerent. Still, the entire ordeal left Laura with a sour taste in her mouth.
“I don’t even understand why they’d go to such lengths,” she said. “What’s the point of going behind our backs? We’ve kept Clae and Anselm totally secret. No one else but Albright and that Byron Rhodes would know about them. From the MacDanels’ perspective, there’s nothing to chase. Nothing to gain.”
“- - - don’t know that,” said Okane. “Remember what Juliana said that first night? She was positive Clae had a secret weapon. She doesn’t know Anselm’s form, but she knows something like him exists. Depending on how sure she is, and what she plans to do with it, she could go to great lengths. We can’t really guess what she’ll do unless we know what she does, though.”
“I could ask her,” said Laura.
Okane gave her a wary look. “Right after - - - called her out on being a lying, subpar Sweeper?”
Laura flushed. “I’d be worming my way into her good books first, obviously!” Okane remained unconvinced, and she continued, “Give me a chance. Look, tomorrow morning, Elinor will probably show up early, right? And the MacDanels have been late all this week. You stay upstairs with Elinor, and I’ll see what damage I can undo with Juliana.”
Somehow, she got him to agree. The next morning he led Elinor upstairs again, asking questions on what else estate administrators did beyond inventorying. She didn’t seem completely pleased by the distraction, but took it in stride. She likely thought his presence was meant to dissuade any more potential trespassers. It would, o
f course, but that wasn’t the plan. Laura remained in the shop, eyes trained on the windows. She planned to confront Juliana nonchalantly: start by looking up from the newspaper, move into meaningless conversation to warm her up, then act the part of the contrite apprentice. This plan didn’t happen.
Juliana burst into the shop almost before Laura even saw her. She came out of breath, totally devoid of paperwork and somehow missing Lester’s usual shadow.
“Are they here yet?” she demanded.
“Who?” said Laura.
“The reporters,” said Juliana. “We got a call at our apartment this morning, saying they wanted another spotlight. And it’s—Oh, goodness, I’m not prepared at all.”
She hurried in and tried arranging the stools into a nicer pattern. Laura threw her newspaper in the trash and rushed to clear off the rest of the counter.
“Do you know who? When?”
“The Sun,” said Juliana. “I told them I’d only be available after nine, so that means they could come through at any minute. Do I look all right? Everything in place? Is there a mirror anywhere?”
Laura had been attempting to stow the largest of the extra Kin flasks under the counter, but paused. She scrubbed at the flask with her sleeve until it shone again and said, “Will this work?”
Juliana stooped lower to see it and sighed in relief. “That’ll do nicely. Do you have any experience with the Sun’s reporters?”
“A little,” said Laura. “The reporter I met was supportive of Sweepers even before it was popular. They’ve been here before, back when it was all cluttered, so you don’t have to worry about them accusing you of being unorganized. You’re still in the process of moving in. They can’t expect you to have everything whipped into shape already.”
For a moment Juliana was silent, but then she gave a soft laugh. “Of course. I keep thinking I have to put my best foot forward, but some things just aren’t physically possible.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. The papers already love you,” said Laura. “But I thought you’d already had a spotlight in the Sun. Didn’t you speak with a reporter then?”
The Monstrous Citadel Page 9