Black Box Inc.

by Jake Bible

  I left Willitz sitting there looking halfway between enraged and dejected, as only a longtime law-enforcement officer could look.

  We were outside the precinct and hopping into Teresa’s firm’s limo before she said another word to me.

  “Did you kill her?” she asked when the doors were shut. I could see the anti-eavesdropping hex go up around the doors and windows. “Mr. Lawter?”

  “Nope,” I replied. “I like Iris. A lot. You know that. I would never hurt her. Never. You know that too.”

  “Do you know who would?”

  I cocked my head and gave Teresa a quizzical look. “You don’t usually ask these questions. The less you know, the better. Isn’t that what you always say?”

  “This is different,” Teresa replied. She leaned forward and tapped the divider. It slowly rolled down. “The office. Try not to stop, if possible. Keep an eye out for tails or other suspicious vehicles.”

  “Yes, mum,” the ghoul driver grunted, and the divider went back up.

  “Your office? I thought we were going to my office,” I said.

  “That’s what I told Willitz,” Teresa said as she relaxed into her seat. Her back partially slid through the leather upholstery until she adjusted and solidified enough to get comfortable. Out came her phone, and the texting started up again. “I’m having your colleagues brought to us, as well.”

  “Okay. Harper will be happy to know that she’ll be around to keep me safe.”

  “None of you are safe.”

  “Oh. Well, that doesn’t sound good,” I said. I watched her text. “How do you do that with spirit fingers?”

  A whoosh, and Teresa turned her banshee stare on me. She didn’t answer my question. She never does.

  “You woke up in a pool of blood, but you aren’t harmed,” she said, sticking to the subject. “Iris Penn, a woman everyone knows you have romantic feelings for, is missing and all that is left is some of her blood on the sidewalk and a changeling in a dumpster. What good were you hoping for?”

  “Changeling?” I exclaimed, holding my hands up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Faeries are involved?”

  “Specifically, the Fae.”

  “Shit. Since when are the Fae involved in this?”

  “I don’t know,” Teresa said. “I have the paralegals on it. They in turn have our best investigators looking into this matter. We’ll all be briefed when we reach my office.”

  “While we eat,” I said. “We’ll be briefed while we eat, right? You actually have the pizzas going to your office, yeah?”

  She sighed, and the sound was like a teapot whistling at full volume.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’ll shut up.”

  “I highly doubt that,” Teresa replied and began texting at least eight people at the same time.

  Banshees have a lot to say.

  5

  ALL BANSHEES. The entire law office. Nothing but banshees for lawyers.

  The paralegals were gnomes, and the secretaries and interns were mostly human with a mix of various other extradimensional beings here and there, so there was some diversity. Ghouls, of course, did the grunt work.

  But all the lawyers were banshees.

  The limo pulled into the garage under the firm of Mulkahey, Delaney, and Sullivan—Attorneys at Law, and stopped directly in front of the elevator doors. Parts of the concrete wall around the elevator came free and morphed into two very large creatures. They looked like badly shaped gorillas. You could call them golems, but that wouldn’t be quite right. They were earth elementals of some kind, but no one at the firm would ever tell me what exactly. Lawyers are so secretive.

  The ghoul driver got out and opened the limo door for Teresa and me.

  “Should I tip him?” I asked. “I never know if I should tip him.”

  “Do you have rotten flesh in your pockets?” Teresa asked.

  “Not today, no.”

  “Then there’s your answer.”

  The concrete gorillas flanked us as the elevator doors opened. We hurried inside. The guards stayed outside the elevators, their faceless heads swiveling back and forth, scanning the parking garage for danger. Not sure what danger they were expecting, since I knew this garage had more hexes on it than a Wiccan virgin’s crotch on prom night.

  Teresa pressed her palm against the elevator wall, and it began to ascend. There were no buttons in the car. “Partners only” elevator. The plebes had to take the stairs.

  “Changeling, huh?” I said as Teresa took her phone out and began texting like mad again.

  Teresa didn’t respond. I shrugged and whistled along with the soft jazz bordering on Muzak that came from the speakers in the ceiling. I don’t like soft jazz, but the whistling gave me something to do.

  Twenty seconds later there was a chime and the doors opened. Sharon was waiting for me with a small pair of earplugs in her hand. I knew the drill. I took them from her and stuck them in my ears before stepping out of the elevator. Law firm full of banshees. Earplugs are a good thing to have.

  Of course, the plugs were designed to filter out only the make-your-ears-bleed volume. Normal conversation could be heard at normal volume even though the plugs were jammed halfway up to my brain. You wanted those plugs to be very, very snug. Even a little leakage meant a three-day migraine.

  “I’ll meet you both up there in a minute,” Teresa said, her face buried in her phone. “You know the way.”

  We did.

  “Did they feed you?” Sharon asked as she escorted me to the stairs that led up to the second-floor conference rooms.

  “No,” I replied. “Willitz was his dickish self. He’s got some serious heat breathing down his neck from higher-ups, so there was extra dick today.”

  Two-foot-tall gnomes, complete with their pointy hats and gold-buckled black belts, scurried here and there. Gnomes had their own language, as most extradimensional creatures did, so I had no idea what they were saying to each other as they rushed from one room to another. But, goddamn if they weren’t worked up. A few shot glances at me, and they did not look happy.

  Sharon opened a door, and the delicious smell of pizza hit me like a freight train. I had to wipe my mouth with the back of my hand to stop the drool from leaking out.

  “Starving,” I muttered and went straight for the food.

  “Good to see you too, Chase,” Lassa said from a chair at the end of the long conference table. “So glad you could invite us to this party. Doesn’t cramp my style at all.”

  “Good to hear,” I replied as I grabbed pizza.

  After a few minutes, a side door opened and Harper came into the conference room.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said as she shut the door.

  “You just getting here?” I asked as I grabbed a couple of slices. “What were you up to?”

  I glanced at Lassa, and he shrugged.

  “I had a couple things to take care of,” Harper replied. “Needed to be done.”

  “Anything business related?” Sharon asked. “If so, please submit the invoice right away so I may bill the party. I know everything may seem to be in chaos, but I certainly do not want the billing to get pushed aside. We must remain—”

  “It was personal,” Harper snapped. “Drop it, Sharon.”

  Sharon looked like she’d been smacked, but she put a fake smile on her rotting face and nodded. “I will not pry anymore.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Harper said and all but fell into the chair next to Lassa. She was starting to look as exhausted as I felt.

  “So, how were your mornings?” I asked Lassa and Harper around a mouthful of two slices of meat-laden pizza. They stared at me. I chewed, swallowed, and repeated the question.

  “Fine until a pack of gnomes showed up,” Lassa said. “Creepy buggers. One second I’m al
one, the next second I’m not and six faces covered by white beards are staring up at me.”

  “I only got a text, no in-person visit,” Harper said. “I think the gnomes have a crush on Lassa.”

  “Everyone has a crush on Lassa,” I said. “Sharon?”

  “I’ve been here all morning,” Sharon said. “I came here as soon as Willitz drove off with you.”

  “And what do you know?” I asked as I sat down and pulled an entire pizza box to me, ignoring the whole concept of a plate. A plate would only slow me down. “Teresa mentioned that the body in the dumpster was a changeling and not Iris. That true? I’d really like that to be true.”

  Lassa sat up straight, his entire attention on me. He looked over at Harper, and she was staring daggers at me, then turned her attention to Lassa and shook her head.

  “That’s not good,” Lassa said to Harper.

  “Changelings never are,” Harper replied. “Tell us what’s up, Chase.”

  “Yeah,” Lassa said. “No one mentioned a changeling to us.”

  “Is this confirmed, Sharon?” Harper asked, switching her gaze to Sharon.

  “It is what is being said around the firm,” Sharon replied.

  “Changelings are serious business,” Harper said, looking angry. “The Fae aren’t messing around when they start switching folks out.”

  “I know, I know. We should probably wait for Teresa to get here before we go into too much detail,” Sharon said.

  I nodded in agreement as I continued to devour the pizza before me. There was only one piece left by the time Teresa joined us. One piece out of all the pizzas.

  “You people have stepped in it,” Teresa said, closing the door tightly behind her. At least eight security hexes flashed active before she even took her seat at the head of the table. “Get comfortable. None of you are leaving here until all of my questions are answered.”

  “Any chance of being more specific on the time frame?” Lassa asked. Sharon gave him a sharp look. “What? I have a date tonight.”

  “Of course you do,” Harper said. “Travis?”

  “Nah,” Lassa said. “A river sprite I met on Tinder.”

  “Your romantic life is not a priority, Lassa,” Sharon snapped.

  “Why isn’t Travis here?” I asked. “He’s as involved as any of us. Someone needs to track his ass down.”

  “I have my people working on that,” Teresa said. “He is not an easy one to find due to his shapeshifting abilities.”

  “Soooo, about that time frame?” Lassa asked.

  “More than an hour, less than infinity,” Teresa said.

  “Yeah, the infinity part has me worried,” Lassa said.

  “Lassa, please,” Sharon responded.

  “No, no, it’s fine,” Teresa said. “We all have commitments.”

  She snapped her fingers, and a small door in the wall opened. A gnome came in holding an hourglass as big as he was. He set it on the table, then left through the same small door. Teresa turned the hourglass.

  “There we go,” Teresa said. “A time bubble has been created. We can take as long as needed and it will be as if no time has passed outside this room.”

  Her cold banshee eyes studied us. They blazed with a blue fire that must annihilate witnesses on the stand.

  “Start at the beginning,” Teresa said.

  “Well, my mother and father met on a blind date set up by a cave witch,” Lassa said.

  Sharon threw a look at him that was as hard as a slap.

  “Last night,” Teresa said, ignoring Lassa’s comment. “You all ate together at Taps & Tapas. There was an incident?”

  “Chappy Reginue,” Sharon said, wrinkling her rotten nose.

  Teresa made a face that matched Sharon’s disdain.

  “Why in all the dimensions would you entertain that . . . person?” Teresa asked.

  “We did not entertain him,” Sharon replied and explained the events of the evening.

  “The head was from a kobold of the royal family?” Teresa asked. “Did he give you the exact lineage?”

  “We didn’t get a chance to go into that kind of detail,” I said. My stomach rumbled. “Uh . . . ?”

  “Chinese takeout is on the way,” she said. “Enough for all of us.”

  “Not the way he’s eating,” Harper said. “How much Dim did you manipulate last night?”

  I shrugged, then looked at Teresa.

  “How is Chinese takeout on the way with a time bubble in place?” I asked.

  “Takeout waits for no time bubble, dude,” Lassa said.

  “Or I prepared ahead and the food is ready and waiting,” Teresa said, sending a text. “A gnome will deliver it shortly.”

  “I would like to explore this time bubble more,” Sharon said. “A device like that would certainly help me catch up on administrative work when quarterly tax statements are due.”

  “Mr. Lawter?” Teresa said, ignoring Sharon. “I’d like to know the answer to Harper’s question. How much Dim did you manipulate?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. She tried to give me that banshee stare that has terrified victims for centuries, but she could stare all she wanted. “I don’t.”

  I explained everything I could, telling the same empty story I told back in the loft. I had nothing new to report.

  “That’s all I know.”

  “And the rest of you?” Teresa asked. They gave their same stories. “But no key?”

  “Not on me,” I replied. “The cops have one, but I don’t know what it goes to. Maybe it’s the key to whatever box I made last night. Maybe not.”

  “We should get that key,” Harper stated.

  “A heist? Oh, I’m in,” Lassa said.

  “No heists!” Sharon snapped.

  “I’ll see what I can do about getting us access to the key in their possession,” Teresa said. “Although, it will be tricky until they formally charge Mr. Lawter.”

  “Will they?” I asked. “The evidence seems sketch.”

  “The evidence is sketch,” Teresa agreed. “But this is big. My sources say this is the worst timing for state officials. More than a few federal representatives are in town. So, if Willitz wants to keep his career intact, he will have to pin this mess on someone soon.”

  “Me being that someone,” I said.

  “Let’s return to the kobold head,” Teresa said. “Can you access it?”

  “Not without the key,” I replied. “Chappy has that.”

  “I’ll have him brought to the office,” Teresa said.

  Text and whoosh.

  “He had dopplers all over him last night,” Harper said.

  “He could have gotten away,” Lassa said and looked at me. We started laughing.

  “Which means he’s probably with the One Guy,” Harper continued. “You’ll want to send your best gnomes.”

  “I always do,” Teresa said. “Now, the blood.”

  “I’m really sick of blood,” I said as my stomach started to revolt again at the thought of what I woke up in. “Can we get on with this?”

  “I am getting on with it, Mr. Lawter,” Teresa said and glared. “Calm yourself.”

  Snap of fingers, and a gnome appeared with a thick file. Could have been the same gnome as before. Impossible to tell them apart sometimes.

  Teresa opened the file and flipped through the papers inside.

  “It is your blood, that much has been confirmed by everyone,” Teresa said.

  All eyes were on me.

  “My blood?” I gulped. “Wouldn’t I be dead?”

  “Do you feel dead, Mr. Lawter?” Teresa asked.

  “I don’t feel too alive considering the night and morning I’ve had,” I replied, rubbing a
t my churning gut.

  “I’m sorry, but when you say confirmed by everyone . . . ?” Sharon interrupted. Teresa raised an eyebrow, and Sharon gave her a shy smile. “I would like to contain this as much as possible. Our company has a reputation to uphold.”