Whiskey Tango Foxtrot: The Atticus Files

Chapter Six

Elsie trudged up the stairs to her home on the apartment block's third floor, cursing the broken elevator that still hadn't been fixed. She paused at the landing for her floor, sucked in a deep breath and walked down the narrow corridor that smelled faintly of her neighbors cats.

She rang the doorbell, not bothering to get her keys from her bag, and heard the familiar sound of her father hurrying to navigate his way through the crowded and cluttered house in order to get to the front door.

"Elsie," her father said as he opened the door, "did you forget your keys?"

"No I've got them," she said as she stepped past him and into the house.

She hung her bag up by the door and made her way towards the kitchen, glad to be in familiar surroundings again. The hallway was strewn with her brothers' discarded shoes and toy cars but Elsie barely registered them anymore, stepping over and around them like an expert dancer going through the motions of a simple warm up exercise. When she reached the kitchen table she sat down heavily on the only chair that wasn't occupied with computer parts, action figures or clothes. Elsie let out a sudden sigh.

Her father was two steps behind her. "So," he asked, clearing a chair of a pile of laundry and sitting opposite her. "How was your day? Did you and Roza have fun at the gallery? Her mother has been saying it is one of the most exciting exhibitions yet."

"Yeah." Elsie nodded, her mind elsewhere.

Her father seemed satisfied, nodding to himself as he shuffled a pile of papers and flicked through the new proposal that Alec, his design team's leader, had sent him.

"Dad," Elsie asked slowly, "how did you decide what university you wanted to go to? How did you know which course you wanted your life to take?"

Her father looked up, his brow creased into a look of puzzlement at the sudden sombreness in her tone. "Oh dear," he said, "I sense a serious conversation is coming."

Elsie's mouth twitched into what was an almost smile. Unable to keep her father's trusting gaze, she looked down at the cluttered table top. Her hands itched. She reached out and pulled an iPad towards her. She needed something to focus on. Something to keep her hands busy, to keep her eyes off her father in case she said something she shouldn't. Something that would bring Miss Mara into her home. But surely that was only paranoia. Miss Mara could hardly hear her every conversation, could she?"

"Leslie from upstairs dropped it off while you were out." Her father's voice jolted her away from thoughts and Elsie saw him gesture at the iPad. "She said she dropped it and it won't turn on. She was hoping you might be able to work your magic on it."

Nodding, Elsie focused on the iPad. She turned it sideways on her knee, then smacked it violently three times. Nothing happened. The black screen shone back at her, so similar to her laptop screen after Perscott's strange words had faded away that Elsie's breath hitched for a moment. She looked up to see her father staring at her, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"You wouldn't believe how often that works," Elsie explained, shrugging.

Her father sat back in his chair, watching her. Elsie flipped the ipad back over and slid it onto the table, wiping her palms on her jeans, trying somehow to contain the shakiness in her body that had risen, unbidden.

"Eloise," her father began.

Elsie flinched, turning her head away to stare out the window to her left. She began studying the next apartment block. A pot of petunias dangled precariously out of a small bathroom window. Washing hung across a balcony. A door closed loudly, the sound cutting through the quiet.