Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

(Of Course) I'll Follow You-Lockwood

It wasn't that hard to pick the lock to the door on the roof. They clearly didn't expect an attack from the top. Stupid master locks. So simple. It was like they wanted us to break in. We crept down the stairs. We didn't really know what we were walking into so we went quietly. I led. Lucy was close behind me.

Through one door at the bottom and we were out of the service stair to the roof. We were standing in a dim hall. Two doors on each side. One door at the end. Pausing, I let Lucy listen. She had nothing to report. There were sounds, murmurs, but it could be nothing. There was psychic energies everywhere at night. Even in Portland Row. Although the room on the landing didn't help...

Rapiers drawn, we checked each room. A bathroom and three bedrooms. None looked slept in. The door at the end of the hallway opened up to a large room. Couches, a kitchen. Looked like a neat hangout. No George. No Flo. No sources. We now approached the staircase that wound down from the third floor to the ground level.

We were both confident that the third floor was covered. Now onto the next. As silent as possible, we crept down the stairs. On the landing of the second floor was another large room. It was filled with desks. An open office area. Windows let in the eerie ghost lamp light from outside. Lucy gave me a look and we split up. Both going through the room and meeting on the other end. Here there were two offices and what we thought was a conference room. The offices were empty. We checked them separately.

We went into the conference room together. My flashlight illuminated one wall where a white board was covered with pictures and graphs.

Lucy gasped and sprang forward to examine them. I followed, my heart in my throat.

Pictures of Lucy. Some official, like her DEPRAC Agent picture. Her graduation from third grade at Jacobs. Others were taken in secret. Lucy leaving Arif's. Lucy entering 35 Portland Row's front door in the rain. One picture made me especially ill. It was taken on the other side of the street as our home. It was blurry, but you could see Lucy standing in the attic window. What was it that Lucy had said? They knew where I slept. I felt anger rising in my chest.

There was another picture taken a few days ago. I remembered it. Lucy and I had been on our way home from the Furnace. We were laughing about something. I was smiling down at her. Her head was thrown back and her hand was resting lightly on my arm. I wanted to meet the person who had been stalking Lucy, thank them for this shot, and then run my rapier through them.

I glanced at Lucy to see if she had seen it. She had. Her face was bright red. Her eyes lifted up to mine. Without breaking eye contact I pulled the picture off the wall. Removing the tape from the back, I slipped it into my pocket. That one was a keeper.

"Lockwood" she hissed. "That's evidence." But the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her feelings.

"There's plenty more here," I hissed back, failing at suppressing a grin.

And it was true. That sobered me up. Besides the pictures, there were newspaper clippings. Almost every article in the past year where Lucy was mentioned. A stab of guilt hit me as I remembered all the times I had bragged about Lucy before she had made her feelings about the spotlight known. I had apologized. She'd forgiven me. But here they were again.

"Lucy Carlyle, is incredibly talented."

"I'm honored to work with someone as talented as Ms Carlyle."

"I have never witnessed such Listening Talent as Ms Carlyle."

Over and over again. Lucy must have read my mind because she touched me gently.

"It's ok," she said softly, "that you said those things, I mean, not that they stalked me or whatever."

I shrugged, still feeling guilty. "C'mon, we have to hurry."

While we needed to find George and Flo, we couldn't help but spend a moment more looking around the files scattered about the room. From what we could tell by notes and memos, our trouble started with Aunt Tildy. They had been worried about we took Aunt Tildy's case. Saunders planted the source and then had to move the case after they were invited to Fittes House. They couldn't do the case at night like we could. As with Sophie Wilde, they must have been concerned that we would make a connection, especially since they had the misfortune of planting the very same source in Tildy's house that they stole from us.

It was from there that they tried to kill Lucy. Thankfully, she had the protection of an entire team. From one list we could see that they had tried to figure out a way to entrap her as they did Sophie, but it didn't work. Then they found a time when we were all out and hid the source in her room. After that didn't work, they planted more in the house. There was so much more to go through, but we simply didn't have time. Right now, we needed to get moving.

The ground floor was empty. A large lobby with their stupid crest. Plush chairs and a coffee bar. A couple more offices and a storage room. We found the storage room VERY interesting. There were several crates. One, which was covered with a tarp, had been opened and the contents were a mess of uniforms.

"How much do you want to bet this is how Flo and George got in?" Lucy whispered, wrinkling her nose.

"Are you just saying that because it smells bad?" I asked, sounding askance, but it was true.

"Let's just get down to the basement," Lucy said, rolling her eyes, "It's all we have left and I'm getting worried."

I agreed. What would we do if we couldn't find them in the building?

We found the door to the basement and crept down. When we reached the bottom, Lucy paused. "I can sense something," she whispered. "But it's very muffled."

I closed my eyes for a second and felt the tug, the malaise, the sense of something more. She led the way to the first door and slipped in. I glanced to a door a few paces away. I thought I heard something come from there, but it was too late to say anything to Lucy. I followed her. Of course I did.

She was scanning the shelves when I slipped in. Flashlight moving quickly. She glanced up at me. "Sources," was all she said. Every shelf. Every inch. Silver glass cases. Even with the protection, this many sources together would cause agents as talented as Lucy and I to sense something.

"All we need is DEPRAC," Lucy said. "You cant hold this many sources. We can shut them down."

"I don't think we're desperate enough for DEPRAC." I argued. "Besides, we shouldn't be here. What are we going to do? Call Barnes in the middle of the night and say, 'hey, I know you told us to stay out of it, but we decided to take midnight stroll through Saunders HQ and we found a room of sources! Just wondering if you would like to pop by!'" I finished with an exaggerated grin.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Well I wouldn't say it with that attitude but I would..."

"STOPPPPPP!"

Whatever Lucy would do was cut off by an anguished cry. 

What??? Not me posting two chapters in one day!!! Just me being all quick and nice. Or maybe I feel guilty for leaving you all hanging for almost a week. Your comments heal my soul. Love you all. #SaveLockwoodandCo #HollowBoy