A Web So Dark and Deadly

Chapter Six

My eyes drift from the address on my phone to the sign on the store that reads, "Friendly Scales." Fish swim about in a sea of rainbow colors in the store's windows, which frame the glass door entrance.

This is the place. Yesterday, Tabitha sent me a text telling me to go to the Friendly Scales aquatic pet store to purchase an angelfish that just arrived this morning. Apparently, each fish has its own serial number, and there's a specific one I must purchase. It seems strange that she needs that exact fish, but I'm just happy that I'm not being asked to break into anything.

The car fiasco is not a situation I want to be in again.

A bell jangles overhead as I enter the store. I peer around at the brightly colored fish swarming around the tanks. I almost feel bad for them, then remember that this is a better fate than being grilled for dinner.

A man stands behind the desk, bouncing on his heels as he looks around an almost empty store. His face brightens when I approach the counter.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?"

It's strange to have someone who looks about the same age as me address me as "ma'am," but I try not to call attention to it.

"Yes, I'm looking for a fish."

"What type of fish?"

"An angelfish. It should've just arrived this morning." I swallow, then say, "serial number 94576930."

The man's eyebrows knit together, though he doesn't lose his grin. "Man, people 'round here really know their serial numbers."

I roll my eyes. "It's for a friend. She's like, kind of obsessed with fish. Works in an aquarium."

"Oh." The man's face grows somber. "I don't think these fish can be displayed in an aquarium. It's a company policy."

"Don't worry." I force a laugh. "It's for her home aquarium, not work."

"Sure thing. Let me check on that number." The man saunters into the employer room tucked behind the store. He returns a moment later, flipping through pages. "I'm sorry, did you say 94577930?"

I look down at my phone. "94576930."

A crease forms on the man's brow. "I'm sorry, someone actually called yesterday and placed a hold on the fish."

My jaw gapes. "What?"

"I know. In all the time I've worked here, that's never happened."

"Did the person list a name?"

"Uh... yes."

A beat passes. "What is it?"

"I'm not supposed to give out info 'bout other customers."

Darn it. Tabitha will not be pleased. There has to be a way to get a hold of the fish.

I lean on the counter, painting my sweetest expression. "Look, it's my friend's birthday, and I really want to give her this fish."

"I thought she picked it out."

"She did. It's a tradition: she picks the present, and I buy it for her."

"Okay," the clerk chuckles.

"The point is that I don't want to let her down. She's turning twenty-five... and she's getting a promotion, too. I want this to be special for her."

"And a fish will make it special?"

"The point is that you can name your price. I'll pay anything." My hand falls on my green shoulder bag. Good thing I brought an extra supply of cash with me.