Chapter Seven
Chloe cautiously approached the open door, Lucifer by her side. The space beyond was dark. She found a light switch and flicked it on, revealing a small bathroom containing a sink, two wastebaskets, a paper towel dispenser, a mirror, and a toilet Chloe could only hope was functional. There was no one inside the room—the kidnapper must've opened the door remotely.
Aside from the usual bathroom stuff, the tiny space was also sardine-packed with other items: a folded-up cot, a card table, a blank whiteboard with markers on the ledge, a Google Chromebook complete with spare battery packs, a printer, a large cardboard box that was too heavy for Chloe to lift, several yellow legal pads and pens, a digital timer already steadily counting down the hours until their deadline, and—in the very back corner—two green-and-silver medical oxygen tanks mounted on wheels. A neat coil of clear tubing, ending in a hospital-style oxygen mask, hung from the handle of one tank. Both gauges read "FULL."
An eerie shiver ran through Chloe at the sight of the canisters. Maybe they were related to the case somehow. Evidence, or something.
She and Lucifer quickly hauled everything out and set up an approximation of their usual command center: computer, printer, and timer on the card table, whiteboard at an angle off to the left. The cot was too low to sit on and see the computer screen, so they righted the battered bench and dragged it over in front of the table. Chloe wasn't sure what to do with the oxygen tanks. She ended up leaving them by the wall just outside the bathroom door.
While the Chromebook fired up, Chloe and Lucifer tore into the cardboard box. The flaps folded back to uncover a large first aid kit sitting in a nest of about thirty granola bars, a few bags of chips and pretzels, one Hershey's Gold Bar—Chloe's current go-to comfort food—and one bag of Earl's Cool Ranch Puffs, which were Lucifer's staple on any stakeout.
Chloe shivered again, despite the warmth of Lucifer's jacket. The kidnapper said she had watched them, knew everything about them. Had she included their favorite snacks as a kind gesture? Or was it more of a subtle reminder that she really had done her homework, down to the last detail? A warning, maybe, that trying to outsmart her would be an epic mistake. I see all. I KNOW all.
Oblivious to Chloe's concerns, Lucifer snatched the puffs with a call of "Dibs!" and set the bag beside him on the bench.
"Oh, look, Detective—one of your freakish yellow chocolates." He tossed the Gold Bar in Chloe's direction and dug deeper into the loot.
About twenty bottled sports drinks—Gatorade and Power-Ade and the like—filled the bottom of the container, along with a handful of energy drinks. No wonder the box had weighed a ton.
Lucifer scoffed in disgust at the beverage offerings. "We're to be stuck here for twenty-four hours and this is all we get? Colored water? She could've at least thrown in a bottle of Scotch or two…"
He shoved the box under the bench with one foot and scratched absently at the cut on his arm. The wound wasn't terribly deep, but it was jagged and angry-looking and still oozing a little. Chloe bent down to retrieve the first aid kit. She pulled out an alcohol swab, a tube of Neosporin, and a large-sized Band-Aid.
Lucifer hissed and tried to pull away as she swiped his injury with the alcohol.
"Geez, you're worse than Trixie," Chloe admonished, grabbing him by the wrist. "Hold still."
He finally stopped squirming and settled under her touch. The burn of rubbing alcohol filled the air, stinging Chloe's nostrils as she scrubbed away dried blood. She finished cleaning him up, smeared some ointment on the wound, and gently smoothed a Band-Aid over it. She felt better as soon as the gash was out of sight.
Situation handled.
"There," Chloe said, rolling his sleeve back up and buttoning it at the cuff. "Now you won't get Tetanus."
She glanced up to find Lucifer watching her with that awed, almost disbelieving expression he sometimes got when someone was kind to him. Despite all of her efforts, she knew that deep down, he still didn't think the Devil was worth anyone's concern, much less love. It cracked her heart every time she saw it, and she had to busy herself with putting the ointment away so he wouldn't see the tears shining in her eyes.
Before closing the kit, she mentally made note of its other contents, so she'd know what was available. Just in case they needed something later.
When her eyes were safely clear, she took a deep breath, closed the lid, and looked up at Lucifer. "Well…are we ready to start cracking this thing?"
He gave her a small smile and a tiny bow of deference. "Lead on, Detective."
They both turned to the computer, where the case file was ready and waiting for them on the screen.