They hit the showers, and when Max came out, she found that Kate had been quicker than her and was already gone. She took a quick look at her phone to find two texts:
Kate Marsh: be waiting for you outside :)
And she smiled like a goof when she saw who the other text came from:
My Captain ^-^: morning sunshine! so how was your game?
The young vampire changed and went out, and started walking toward the main campus, texting while scanning the area for her friend.
Max Caulfield: we won :p
My Captain ^-^: awesomesauce! Wish I could see their faces!
My Captain ^-^: if we could still eat, I'd take you out to dinner and a movie to celebrate, but I guess that'll just be the movie, then
Max Caulfield: is this a date? o_O
My Captain ^-^: no emoji pls
My Captain ^-^: nah, there's some1 who'd be very unhappy if it was one
My Captain ^-^: btw, give her a big smooch for me
My Captain ^-^: with the tongue
Max Caulfield: you're an idiot XD
My Captain ^-^: NO EMOJI!
Max Caulfield: :'( :'( :'(
My Captain ^-^: dork
Max Caulfield: so what are you up to today?
My Captain ^-^: woke up about an hour ago, tried to mix the blood with instant coffee to see if it tastes better
Max Caulfield: so?
My Captain ^-^: it doesn't…
Max Caulfield: sorry, I know pig blood tastes like shit
My Captain ^-^: nevermind, we'll make it up 2nite, let's go clubbing!
Max Caulfield: I have my movie date tonight
My Captain ^-^: it's not gonna last all night is it?
Max Caulfield: maybe… (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
My Captain ^-^: oh gr8, you said this morning you'd be spending your nights with me, and right after you ditch me to go fuck your new girlfriend
My Captain ^-^: awesome
Max Caulfield: *sigh* you're not gonna give up until I give in, are you?
My Captain ^-^: ur goddamn right
Max Caulfield: OK, OK, I'll call it a night early with Tori and then we go clubbing
My Captain ^-^: YAAAAAY!
Max Caulfield: but in return, you let me use as many emojis as I like
My Captain ^-^: you are eeeevil!
My Captain ^-^: deal
My Captain ^-^: I know an awesome place in Portland, you're gonna love it!
Eventually, she spotted Kate, standing on the path that led from the swimming pool to the parking lot. And there was a man with her, talking to her. Frowning, the girl remained at a distance and inspected the man. A fortysomething brawny dude, wearing a white shirt tensed against his large gut and a dark leather vest that looked one size too small for his massive, gorilla shoulders. He had a thick, bull neck, a square, badly-shaven jaw and short, greasy black hair. His eyes were small, dark and seemed to be giving off a perpetually threatening gaze. Facing him, Kate looked like she was trying to make herself as small as possible to escape through a mouse hole. Not to mention the acrid smell of the stress hormones she was producing.
Damn, he looks like one of those bully cops you see in TV shows… wait!
She studied him more closely, using her superior sight to get every detail of his face. Then it came back to her. Three weeks before, when she'd gone to the police station to testify about Chloe's murder. She'd seen him walk by, with a badge and a gun.
Holy crap, this guy's a cop! And Kate doesn't look she's enjoying his company!
Quickly, she took her camera out of her bag.
If there's one useful thing Jeffershit taught me, it's this: always take the shot.
She took the picture and, considering it satisfying, she stowed it in her bag along with her camera and tuned her super-hearing so she could catch the end of their conversation:
"-best interest to withdraw your accusations and leave Nathan alone, young lady. You don't know what you're messing with, but you're way out of your league, here. I don't know how you got to him or what you did to him exactly, but I will find out, and when I do, I'll fall upon you like the wrath of God, is that clear?"
Kate nodded without a word, looking like she was about to cry. Then he walked away nonchalantly, heading for the parking lot, leaving behind a pale and shaking girl. Max rushed to her.
"Oh there you are!" she said with a casual smile, pretending she hadn't heard anything. "Who were you talking to?"
"Oh, nothing, just a… nothing."
"Are you sure? You don't look too good…"
"I… I'll tell you about it later, if you don't mind? Right now I just want to clear my head and have a nice lunch."
"Oh, yeah, sure… oh crap! I forgot my camera in the changing room! Better go get it back before someone steals it! Katie, you go on ahead, I'll catch up real quick!"
And before the Christian girl could reply anything, Max was already gone out of sight.
Detective Cochrane had just reached his car on the other end of the parking lot when a distant scream startled him:
"Help! Heeeelp!"
As a cop reflex, he took out his 9 mm and started looking around, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. It was a female voice, he was sure of it. Pretty young, considering the pitch. Probably one of the students. What was going on? An assault on campus?
"Help meee!"
The scream was louder, more desperate. And easier to locate: in the grove next to the parking lot. A bent cop being still a cop, Detective Cochrane didn't think twice before running under cover of the trees.
"Hey!" he called out. "Miss? Where are you? Don't worry, I'm with the police! Tell me where you are!"
He moved deeper and deeper into the grove, his confusion growing by the second. There was no answer, and it felt as if there'd never been any girl there. Was he dreaming? He looked around, trying to pierce the shadows under the foliage, to no avail. There was no-one. A cold breeze made him shiver.
Then he gasped as something heavy jumped on his back, staggering him, and soon after he yelled under the excruciating pain of claws digging deep into his shoulders. He wiggled and flailed his arms around in a vain effort to fend off his attacker, but the pain was so intense that soon, a freezing sensation began to radiate all the way from his shoulders down to his fingers, until he no longer had the strength even to hold his pistol.
As he felt teeth digging into his thick neck and his lifeforce slowly leaving him, the detective's last thought was that of a puma.
A puma. There's a goddamn puma on the loose on campus, and with my legendary luck, of course I had to run into it! All that to end up eaten by a fucking cat! Dear God, please forgive me…
Then he dropped to his knees, and on his belly, and lay limp, eyes closed, waiting for the coup de grâce, when the feline would finally rip his throat wide open and end his misery…
But that never happened. Instead, the puma let go of his throat and he felt its cold breath against his ear as it growled:
"First and final warning. You go anywhere near Kate Marsh again, I'll fucking kill you."
Then the weight on his back was gone. After what seemed like an eternity, Detective Cochrane dared to open an eye, and slowly looked over his shoulder to see that he was alone in the grove. He sat up, groaning at the pain on his shoulders and the tingling of strength and sensations returning to his arms and hands. He was feeling dizzy and nauseous. What was that? A talking puma? No, of course not! Must've been a human, then… but a human who attacks like that? He inspected his shoulders: each sported five bloodied holes in the leather of his vest, the size and spacing of which matched with a human hand.
So it was someone who did that and who… bit me?
He quickly placed a hand on his neck and felt, under his fingers, two small holes, moist with blood, that seemed to be already closing. In a matter of seconds, there was nothing under his fingers but two small itchy bumps, like mosquito bites.
What the hell?
My Captain ^-^: so, about that club?
My Captain ^-^: max?
My Captain ^-^: max
My Captain ^-^: max
My Captain ^-^: max
My Captain ^-^: max
Max Caulfield: here! Holy crap, ur gonna make my inbox explode!
My Captain ^-^: then answer already!
Max Caulfield: sorry, I was busy with lunch
My Captain ^-^: lunch? What did u have for lunch?
Max Caulfield: second helping of pig blood :D
My Captain ^-^: u took a flask of blood with u before going this morning?
Max Caulfield: no! yuck, imagine it rots or something? And imagine some1 finds it? Gonna be tough to explain!
My Captain ^-^: now ur gonna tell me you caught a feral pig on campus?
Max Caulfield: pretty much, yeah. Doesn't taste any better though. Unless you like the taste of bad coffee and stale donuts
My Captain ^-^: WHAT?
My Captain ^-^: lemme get this str8: you fed on a FUCKING COP?
Max Caulfield: he had it coming! :o
Max Caulfield: asshole was bullying Kate!
My Captain ^-^: a cop was bullying your goody 2 shoes christian friend? what for?
Max Caulfield: take a guess
My Captain ^-^: Nathan?
Max Caulfield: spot on
Max Caulfield: so it means there are bent cops around town working for Nathan or whoever's behind Nathan
Max Caulfield: I'm starting to believe this conspiracy thing now
My Captain ^-^: told ya!
My Captain ^-^: do u know who it was? The cop?
Max Caulfield: no, I recognized him but dunno his name
My Captain ^-^: u didnt check his papers?
Max Caulfield: didnt think about it
Max Caulfield: gomenasai (⌒_⌒;)
My Captain ^-^: amateur
My Captain ^-^: though it was pretty hardfuckingcore, kudos Mad Max!
My Captain ^-^: and thx, I was thinking of a couple leads, and knowing there are bent cops will give me more to think about when I get back
Max Caulfield: when you get back? oO
My Captain ^-^: yeah, I'm taking a stroll
Max Caulfield: OUTSIDE? :o
My Captain ^-^: relax, max, I can be a real ninja when I want, nobody'll see me!
"Max?" Kate asked.
"Huh?"
"It's our turn, what do you want?"
"Oh, sorry, just a sec!"
Max Caulfield: ttyl, be careful!
Then she put her phone back in her pocket and shifted her focus to her friend who was staring at her with an amused air:
"Texting a lot, aren't you? Is it Victoria?"
"Uh, no, it's… an old friend."
"An old friend? From Seattle!"
"Um, yeah! It's Kristen, I told you about her, didn't I? We haven't been in touch since I moved back here, and she wanted to catch up. I… guess we had a lot to talk about. Sorry."
Sorry for lying again.
"No problem, friend," Kate replied with a playful wink, "but people will get impatient behind. Have you chosen yet?"
She had been so absorbed in her texting she hadn't realized they were now standing in front of the cafeteria counter. She raised her head to study the day's menu:
"Um, there's no garlic in the miso soup, is there?"
It was half past four when Warren knocked on his girlfriend's door. Brooke opened and, to his surprise, didn't even smile at him but cast a quick glance on either side of the hallway before grabbing him by his shirt and dragging him inside.
"Wow! What's that about?"
"Shuddup!" she whispered sternly.
Then she closed and locked the door and turned to him.
"Have you been followed? Is Max around?"
"Max? No, she told me she's working with Lacroix after class, she left campus. Why?"
She sighed deeply and only then did she start to relax.
"Sorry," she said with an embarrassed smile, "getting a bit paranoid here…"
"Yeah, I can see that… Bee, what's wrong?"
Brooke sighed as she sat down on her bed, soon followed by Warren.
"I had a talk with Max this morning. A friendly talk, but still, pretty awkward. She knows we've been to her room! I don't know how, I'm pretty sure we didn't leave anything out of place, but she does! So she asked me, and fuck, she almost saw the board!"
"Okay, chill out," he said as he took her hand for comfort. "What did you tell her?"
"I told her that, yeah, it was us, we were looking for your flash drive."
"A truth and a lie. Clever."
"Yeah, but I'm not sure she bought it… anyway, now I'm being extra cautious in case she's trying to see what we're up to, I mean, if she and Chloe are involved in sketchy shit it could be dangerous for us. I'm starting to wonder if it's really a good idea for us to get involved…"
Warren shrugged: "Well, it looks like we're already neck-deep in this shit, so we might as well keep going. Like you said, we're doing this for our friend, and to make sure Blackwell doesn't get another Jefferson-sized scandal."
"Yeah, but this… this looks way bigger than Jefferson!"
"I know, but aren't you a little curious about what really happened with Chloe?"
She snorted: "Fuck, you bet I'm dying to know what happened with Chloe!"
Her resolve rekindled, she patted him on the thigh as she got up:
"Okay, Watson, let's see what we got there!"
"Watson?" Warren protested. "Why don't I get to be Sherlock?"
"Cause I am Sherlock, of course, I'm way too smart and talented to be Watson. Not to mention smoking hot."
She punctuated her statement with a devious smirk and a butt shake, and Warren, who had opened his mouth to retort something, blushed and remained frozen for a while before saying:
"I… can't argue with that."
"Thought so. Bad boy."
She said that in a playful, purring tone that made the boy swallow hard. She grinned as she enjoyed the effect she had on him, then turned to focus on her board.
"Now! What did you dig up on Chloe?"
"Not much, really. Chloe Price is Joyce's daughter and Mr Madsen's stepdaughter, that we knew already. She used to study here but she was expelled two years ago. She used to hang out with Justin, so I asked him about her, he said apparently she was expelled for skipping class too often, and she was good friends with Rachel who would often get her in trouble."
"Rachel Amber? I'm not surprised, really. I've been studying here since freshman, and there were rumors about Little Miss Perfect being a secret punk hellraiser."
On these words, she wrote Rachel's name on a sticky note which she put on the board, with a thread linking it to Chloe's picture. Then she thought about Rachel being a victim of Nathan and Jefferson, and added threads to their names as well.
"What else?"
"He said she'd be also seen hanging out with Frank Bowers."
"The dealer? That's nothing new, half of Blackwell deals with him! Hell, Stella buys a shitload from him!"
"For real?"
"Yup. How do you think she keeps going, studying all the goddamn time and taking odd jobs to make ends meet?"
"Oh, I didn't know. Wouldn't think that of her… anyway, about Chloe, apparently it was more than that, they were pretty friendly and there's even rumors that she's worked for him a couple times. You know, doing deliveries or collecting money. He also said he'd heard she owed him a big buck."
"Okay, so we have a definite relationship here…"
And she tacked a thread between Chloe and Frank on the board. Then she took a step back to admire her work.
"It… looks like a fucking mess," she said, a tone of defeat in her voice.
She'd worked hard on it since this morning, and even earlier than that since she could hardly sleep, the mystery literally eating at her mind. Their investigation had started with Max and Lacroix, and trying to figure out what was going on between the two of them and with a possible drug ring and this weird "invisible on camera" thing. But then she'd had to add Chloe to the equation, which complicated things even further: logically, Chloe had faked her death. Why? Was she on the run from someone, or an organization? Did she know too much? Did Max know all along, or did she find out recently – say, when she started acting weird, for instance? And if Chloe faked her death, did it mean Nathan was in on the conspiracy and just pretended to kill her? Just in case, he had to be added to the equation. Which meant that everything related to Nathan also had to be added: Jefferson, Rachel, the Dark Room, Frank Bowers. So that meant Lacroix and Jefferson ended up on the same board, and two seemingly unrelated cases could be related after all. What was the relationship between Lacroix and Jefferson, apart from them being both photography teachers at Blackwell?
And there were the other elements to consider: first, that invisibility thing, and then Max's super-strength – the events of this morning on the field left no doubt in Brooke's mind that Max's physical prowesses were much more than just "working out" – and the freak weather from last night… all of that formed a spider's web of interconnected threads with no apparent logic. How did it all fit together?
"Maybe we should start by taking off some stuff?" Warren suggested. "Like, what's the storm got to do with all this?"
"I'm sure there is something with the storm. A flash hailstorm like that, followed by snow, in November, I believe in climate change alright but this was not natural. And you know that lightning doesn't strike twice at the same place?"
"Bee, as a scientist you know that's bullshit, right? Lightning can strike twice."
"Yes, I know, but you heard and saw it last night, didn't you? It struck four fucking times in the night, and each time outside of the storm! I checked the weather reports and it seems the first one struck very close to campus, and the other three struck around the junkyard. Which means three times within less than a mile radius, and, I repeat, outside of the storm! How likely is that?"
"Very unlikely," Warren conceded. "Alright, then… what about Frank? Okay, he probably sold Nathan the GHB he used on Kate, and God knows what else, but he's a dealer, right? As you said, half of Blackwell buys from him."
"But you said Chloe worked for him?"
"According to Justin. Who is not the most reliable source of info, considering he's stoned like, 23 hours a day."
"Right. Okay, let me think, I think I can come up with a narrative, wait a sec…"
She took deep breaths and focused on the board. She remained silent for a few minutes, Warren not daring to disturb her, until she said:
"I think it's a military project. Super soldier tech."
"What?"
"Wait, hear me out: what do we know about Mark Jefferson anyway? We've been told he's a perv who got a kick out of taking pics on non-consenting bound and drugged women, right? But think about it: 22 victims, including at least six Blackwell students. A secret, fully-equipped underground photo studio… and until Nathan shot Chloe, nobody had any clue about that. Realistically, how likely could an ageing hipster photographer have kept this whole operation running for so long without anyone noticing? Not likely, that's the answer. Unless he got external help. Powerful external help. Government-level. DARPA."
"DARPA? What the hell have they got to do with all this?"
"Think about it, DARPA is where next-generation military tech comes from. Imagine, they developed a performance-enhancing drug, something potent enough to turn a skinny dork into a football fury in less than a week, so imagine what it could do to a trained Marine. But before they use it, they have to test it, right? And to keep things inconspicuous, they would naturally choose a low-density area as far away from Washington as possible… a hick seaside town in Oregon, for instance. Don't you think it's weird that a star photographer like Jefferson would choose to teach at Blackwell? It may pride itself as a prestigious academy, but it's not UCLA, if you see what I mean."
"So Jefferson was a DARPA agent all along?"
"Maybe… or maybe not. Maybe the guys at Washington spotted this photographer who was used to kidnapping and drugging people, caught him and offered him a deal: either he's arrested on the spot, or his dirty little secret is kept provided he moves to Arcadia Bay and keeps doing what he does, only in-between photo shoots he tests their drug on his victims."
"Okay, so he used his victims as test subjects for a super soldier serum… then, shouldn't the town be overrun by supergirls by now? I mean, Kate was one of his victims, but she doesn't look changed."
Brooke shrugged: "Maybe he tested them with a low-potency or temporary version? Just to see if the human body can withstand it? Maybe the product is still unstable and most of the attempts failed with the girls simply rejecting the drug… and one attempt didn't end well at all."
"You mean Rachel Amber?"
"Yeah."
Warren took a deep breath, processing everything so far. It was a tough pill to swallow. "Okay, then… what next?"
"Next comes Sébastien Lacroix, so-called vintage photographer, in reality a DGSE sleeper agent."
"DGSE?"
"French secret services. I did some research."
"So now you believe he's a spy? You didn't seem too convinced yesterday."
"I know, but then I thought… his story is a little too clean, don't you think? We know virtually nothing of his life, and what little info is available is… I don't know, it doesn't seem real. And his picture? Like, he's a famous guy and there's only ever one single picture of him on the whole Internet? It feels like those catfishing dudes who make up fake Facebook accounts with generic pics and generic info, you know? Like this guy didn't even exist until three weeks ago."
"So he's using a fake identity? And his whole artistic career is nothing but a cover story?"
"The more I think about it, the more likely it seems."
"Kay… so what's he got to do with all this?"
"His bosses in Paris catch wind of secret military tech being developed in Arcadia Bay. They have him move there to investigate, but without exposing himself, so he has to recruit people to investigate on his behalf. People who are in debt for instance, high school dropouts who would do anything for cash…"
"Chloe Price!"
"You're goddamn right! So Chloe's put on the case, she finds out Nathan's working for Jefferson. She confronts him, tries to bully more intel out of him, and he snaps and shoots her. But Chloe survives the shot. Maybe she'd already stolen a vial of the serum and tried it on herself at this point, thereby making her a super soldier, and that's how she survived. Or maybe Nathan really was a double agent all along, and the whole thing was a setup. Or maybe she just got lucky. Anyway, this is a great opportunity for Lacroix: by hiding Chloe and staging her death, he can have Nathan framed for murder, and Nathan breaks and spills it all out about Jefferson, the Dark Room, and Rachel's murder."
"Oh, I see: so the cops arrest Jefferson, grab the serum as evidence, and then Lacroix just has to sneak in the police station and steal it, which must not be too hard for a trained spy."
"Exactly! Then he just has to create his fake photographer identity and get recruited by Blackwell to take Jefferson's place."
"But why would he take Jefferson's place? He could just have returned to Paris with the serum. Mission accomplished."
"Unless he was ordered to pick up where Jefferson left off and continue the tests, on behalf of the French government this time? Only Lacroix doesn't use the same methods: he prefers willing subjects."
"Max!"
"Right. So he recruits her-"
"Wait, wait, thing is, I can't imagine Max willingly getting involved in shit like that. She's way too… cautious, for that."
"Normally, I'd agree with you, but remember how devastated she was after Chloe's death? She almost… damn, you know what she almost did out of grief. Now, how do you think she would react if someone promised her she could have Chloe back, and could deliver on that promise because Lacroix was the only one who knew Chloe'd been alive and hiding all along!"
Warren nodded: "She wouldn't think twice and say yes."
"My thought exactly. In the end, Lacroix recruited both Chloe and Max as willing test subjects, and he must've perfected the formula because it worked and made them super soldiers!"
"Okay… but what about the invisibility?"
"A cloaking device? Secret French tech, so they can do as they please and leave absolutely no evidence?"
The boy frowned: "Technically, that would be very hard to pull off, but for the sake of argument, let's say it's a possibility… and the weather? You seemed to think it was all related."
"It fits in my drug theory. After all, who said a performance-enhancing drug would only alter physical performance? What if they had developed a drug that also expands the mind in unprecedented ways?"
"Whoa, whoa, wait a sec, are you actually talking about… psychic powers?"
"There have been attempts! It is well-known by now that during the Cold War, the Soviets had secret research projects going on, dealing with psychic warfare. The theory being that with proper training and medical treatment, a psychic soldier could read minds, levitate and even kill anyone on the planet just by thinking about it! What if we made that happen? What if Max and Chloe now has the ability to control the weather, and what we saw yesterday was just them practicing?"
Warren scratched his head. Brooke was really getting hyped over her theory, and she was so awfully cute he really wanted to go with it, but…
"I don't know," he mumbled. "It… makes some kind of sense… I guess… but it's so wild, I mean, it's like an X-Files episode!"
Brooke's excited smile vanished, and her eyes darkened with disappointment. "Do you have another theory?"
"How about… black magic?"
She cocked an eyebrow: "Seriously? And you called my theory wild?"
"I know, I know, but think about it! We've seen her browsing history, haven't we? She turns goth and gets stronger and more confident just as she develops an interest in the occult, can't be just a coincidence! And then Chloe reappears in the cemetery when she was supposed to be dead, and lightning and hail and snow pop up out of fucking nowhere… it all looks like there's some serious witchcraft going on! I remember Kate had an instant dislike to Lacroix that she couldn't explain, a gut feeling. What if it's because he's a Satanist priest or something, and as a Christian she can feel it somehow? He took Max as his assistant to teach her, she used magic to bring Chloe back and now she has powers… what do you think about it?"
The girl pondered on the theory for a moment, then frowned and shook her head: "That's an interesting theory, but I can't believe any of it."
"Why?"
"Occam's razor."
"Bee, come on! Occam's razor means that between two theories, the simpler one is most likely to be true, but in our case, both theories are far-fetched as fuck! Seriously, as much as I respect your super soldier theory, it doesn't make any more sense than my magic theory. In the end it's like choosing between science fiction and fantasy, when both stories are just equally completely fucking insane!"
Brooke gazed at her board, processing her boyfriend's right. Her face flared red with frustration.
"Yeah," she murmured, "you're probably right."
Then she walked slowly to her board, and as she was very close to it, she took one last look at it before erupting:
"IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE!"
And caught in a sudden frenzy, the girl proceeded to rip off the pictures and papers and threads, as if the board had personally insulted her and she wanted to tear its guts off, all the while roaring out:
"IT'S JUST! TOO! FUCKING! STUPID! A WASTE! OF! MY TIME!"
"Bee, Bee, wait, calm down, calm down!" Warren called as he grabbed his girlfriend's arms and tried to pull her away from the board. Which was tougher than he thought, because, damn, the girl had strength! They struggled for a while, with her flailing her arms around hysterically, until he had her locked in a bear hug and she finally stopped.
"You're okay?" he asked softly.
She stared at him, her cheeks still red and her eyes wet with anger, and before he could do or say anything else, she grabbed his head with her two hands and kissed him vigorously.
Warren had a mini heart attack as he jumped back and stared at her in shock. It didn't last long though, for before his brain could process this event, his body had moved on his own and soon the two of them were eating each other's lips, their tongues wrestling furiously and their hands flying all over each other's arms and waists and backs as they tipped to the side and landed on her bed.
Warren felt his heart race like never before and his pants get painfully tight as he climbed on top of her and feverishly caressed her, all the while kissing her neck, relishing in the warmth of her skin against his lips and her heavy breathing in his ear that he found so incredibly arousing. Then his hands found their way under her sweater and feeling the smooth bare skin of her belly under his fingers put him in an ecstatic bliss he'd never thought possible, not even in his wildest fantasies.
He wasn't the only one: Brooke literally went crazy at the sensation of his hands on her, all the pleasure centers in her body lighting up like a Christmas tree… no, a Christmas tree on fire… no, a Christmas tree on fire, in the middle of a nuclear blast. Overwhelmed by desire, she started to wriggle under him, trying to topple him over and straddle him, so she could freely take off her sweater, and her t-shirt, and her bra, and then they would… they would…
They both yelped as they rolled off the bed and landed heavily on the floor. They froze in surprise, stared at each other, lost and confused, and then Brooke burst out laughing.
"I think we got a little carried away here," she laughed as she sat up and straightened her sweater and her hair.
"Um, yeah, I guess," Warren muttered as he sat up next to her and waved his hand in his shaggy hair, trying hard to cool down and hide his disappointment at it being already over. He had felt it, she was ready to… but was he? Of course, he was! Or… he didn't know, really. That would be his first time, and although he was starving for it, he was also terrified. After all, what if he didn't… perform? So, yeah, maybe it was for the best… still, he'd been waiting for them to kiss all this time, now he wanted more, more, more!
A sudden jingle pulled him from his thoughts and back to the real world. That was… the victory music from Final Fantasy? He turned to his girlfriend, raising an eyebrow, and she smiled goofily at him, still panting, and holding her phone in her hand.
"Sorry," she said, "I just had to do it."
"What was that for?"
"Well, I've been waiting for a kiss for so long, I feel like I just won a really hard boss battle, you know? What took you so damn long?"
The boy blushed: "Well, I… I didn't want to rush things, you know…"
Brooke sighed: "It's Max, isn't it? She told you to take things slowly, and you took her advice a little too well."
He started in surprise: "How do you know?"
She shrugged and smirked: "Girls talk, you know."
He buried his head in his hands in embarrassment: "Oh great, she wasn't supposed to tell you I asked her for advice… now I feel like a total idiot…"
"If it makes you feel better," she said as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "it was worth the wait. Oh boy, that was steamy…"
He started again, caught unaware by this sudden compliment, and then smirked: "Really? Cause we could do this again, you know…"
She laughed: "Getting insatiable now, aren't we?" Then she paused, biting her lower lip as though considering the offer, then said: "As much as I'd love to, stud, we've got some unfinished business to take care of first."
Then, with a quick peck on his lips, she stood up and focused again on her board. Or, what remained of it.
"Right," he said as he stood up too. He considered the board, pondering on it for a moment, then declared: "Then I guess we need to start over. All we have here are wild speculations, when what we really need is hard facts."
"What do you suggest?"
He pointed at two of the few pictures that remained intact on the board. The pictures of Max and Lacroix: "It all started with us wondering what's going on between Max and Lacroix, right? We should go back to basics, focus on the two of them for now, and ignore the rest."
She nodded: "Good idea. And since we searched Max's room already, and she's so suspicious now I don't want to take any more chance with her, we should focus on the frog. See what skeletons he has in his closet."
"What do you suggest, search his house?"
"We may have to do that eventually, but I was thinking of something less dangerous. Remember my theory about his identity being fake? I think we should take a good look at his personal data, if we spot things that don't add up, then my theory will be proven correct, and maybe we'll find another lead as well? Do you have an icebreaker?"
"Why, of course I have an icebreaker!"
"What is it?"
"Wintermute 3.4."
She whistled in admiration: "Seriously? Damn!"
"Hey, what do you think, a real professional always makes sure he has the best tools!"
She smirked: "Okay, cowboy, better take it with you tonight, we might need it if we have to break into Wells's computer."
"Wells? What's Wells got to do with this?"
"Duh, where else do you think we'll find Lacroix's legal data? Into his employment record, of course! We need to borrow this record, so tonight, we'll break into Wells's office for it. Better suit up, cause tonight it's Operation Blackwell Ninjas!"
The first thing that caught Max's attention when she got off the truck at about half past six was a slight quaking under her feet. A normal human would probably not have noticed anything, but to her, it was like there was a huge jackhammer pounding under the floor of the barn. And the rhythmic nature of the beats left no doubt as to their origin.
Just how loud is she listening to her music? She must be deaf by now!
She opened the trapdoor and walked down the concrete staircase to the entrance of their lair. The unexpected welcome startled her: the grimacing face of a Bloody Roger had been painted on the blast door, with below it the mention:
HERE BE PIRATES! ENTER AT YER OWN RISKS, SCALLYWAG!
She couldn't help but smile at her friend's antics.
Looks like she's had fun today!
She input the code, opened the door, wincing as her ears absorbed the full blast of overdriven guitars and frantic drums, and another surprise startled her as she entered: the vinyl curtain that used to separate the kitchen area from the main room had been removed and replaced by an American flag.
Now, that is a lot better! Ugh, I hated that vinyl curtain! But where the hell did she get that flag? Oh wait a sec… don't tell me!
Her heart frozen with sudden dread, she hurried to close the door and stride to the main room, and found all her fears confirmed: Chloe had rearranged the furniture to give the place a cozier feel, and had taken upon herself to decorate the walls with various posters and pictures and other decorations that were all too familiar to Max, for just like the American flag, it all came straight from her old bedroom at Joyce's!
Chloe was standing in front of a large decorated piece of wood with several pieces of paper pinned on it, studying it thoroughly while smoking a cigarette and banging her head softly to the deafening punk music coming from her laptop sitting on the desk next to her printer.
"Oh, hey there Maximus!" she yelled cheerfully as she jumped on her for a bear hug. "How was your day?"
"Maybe you should turn the music low!" Max yelled back, protecting her poor ears with her palms.
"What?"
"THE MUSIC! TURN IT LOW!"
Chloe nodded and did as she was asked and, although the music was still on, there was a semblance of piece and quiet now, compared to when she got in.
"Phew," she sighed, "better! Sorry Chlo, looks like punk music is definitely not my thing."
"Well you better get used to it cause that's Firewalk, the band we're going to see live first chance we get! But don't worry, punk is an acquired taste, you'll learn to like them eventually. Max, are you okay?"
"No I'm not!" Max yelled, feeling agitated and anxious. "What the fuck did you do today?"
Chloe frowned: "What do you mean?"
"Your laptop! Your flag, your posters, your…" she caught a glimpse at a cabinet that had remained open and added: "Your clothes, even your clothes are here! You went to your home, didn't you? Did Joyce see you? Oh my God, imagine someone saw you, what are we gonna-"
"Max!" Chloe said softly but firmly as she grabbed her shoulders to ground her. When they were kids, she'd found this was the best way to defuse an incoming panic attack. Old habits die hard. "Breathe in, Max."
"This isn't about-"
"Shush! Shut up and do as I say. In…"
Chloe took a deep breath and Max followed reluctantly.
"Out…" and they both breathed out.
They continued the exercise a couple times until the brunette appeared more relaxed.
"Feeling better?" Chloe asked, and when her friend nodded she continued: "Good. Come on, take a seat, take off your shoes, I'm gonna make you dinner and then we'll talk, but do not worry, I'll tell you everything and you'll see there's nothing to worry about."
The young photographer did as she was instructed and sat cross-legged on the couch, unwinding from her day. Chloe reappeared a few minutes later with two steaming mugs and sat beside her.
"I couldn't find a way to make it taste better," she said as she gave Max her mug. "Sorry."
"No problem," Max replied with a gentle smile as she took a sip. "Thanks. And sorry I yelled at you, I'm just… hella nervous."
"Yeah, I could see that! What the fuck was that? Was it cause of that bent cop thing?"
"Actually, yeah… and no, there's something else I didn't tell you about. This morning I found out that Warren and Brooke got into my room last night."
"Warren and Brooke… isn't Warren the guy who used to stalk you?"
"He didn't stalk me, he was… just pushy, I guess? He had a crush on me until I told him I'm gay, and now he's dating Brooke."
"You mean Brooke Scott?"
"You know her?"
"Not too much, but she was already at Blackwell before I got expelled. Had quite of a reputation as a salty beeatch. And she'd always fly that thing, we used to call her Drone Dork. So what about them? What the fuck were they doing in your room?"
"I asked Brooke, and she said they were looking for a flash drive I borrowed from Warren a while back, but I don't believe her. And in her room she's got a board with stuff pinned on it, like a detective board, like that thing you got there! I couldn't see what it was before she covered it, but I have a bad feeling they're spying on me, for some reason. I caught myself looking over my shoulder several times since I left Blackwell, expecting to see them follow me…" she snorted and added: "Getting paranoid, ain't I? And then I got a proper scolding from Lacroix after class…"
"What?" Chloe yelped, indignant. "How dare this cheese-eating fucker scold my Max!"
Max smiled. Chloe's sudden anger was pretty heartwarming. Back when they were kids, Chloe was fiercely protective of her smaller friend, even (or especially) when it would get her in serious trouble. She remembered that one time, they were about nine or ten and a teacher had scolded Max a little too hard and made her cry. Which had owed Chloe a neat little talk with her parents and the school disciplinary board for calling that teacher a bitch. It looked like this old instinct was still alive and kicking.
"Relax, Captain," Max said as she put a hand on her thigh to soothe her. "He didn't hurt me, and I don't like you talking about him like that. He's my mentor and I respect him, not only because none of this could have happened without him, but also because as a teacher, he's amazing, I learn so much with him! And he was right anyway… didn't you check the Totem blog today?"
Chloe snorted: "Fuck yeah I did, Juliet ran an article about Bloody Roger. I thought it was pretty awesome."
"Well, Lacroix doesn't think so. So he lectured me about how laying out artworks all over town and raising hell doesn't quite fit in this 'discretion' rule we're supposed to follow for our own good."
Chloe scoffed: "Party pooper! Looks like human or vampire, boring old dudes will be boring old dudes, what with their rules and stuff."
"But he's right, we've been too reckless! This morning I almost got caught by Kate, her nose was bleeding after she was hit by a ball, and I licked it, I managed to get away with it by letting her think I tried to kiss her, which was mortifying, I mean, I'm really lucky she's so sweet and understanding cause-"
"Bah! Don't worry too much, Maxi-pad, how do you want us to get caught anyway? I mean, people don't seriously believe in vampires, do they?"
"I wish I could be so sure," Max mumbled. "But seeing that board in Brooke's room, and thinking she may be on to something… it scared me."
"Look, we'll play it more careful from now on if you want, and if it makes Mr Baguette happy. As for Brooke and Warren, well, we'll keep an eye on them, and if it turns out they're following you or something, we'll just go and give them a good scare!"
Max winced: "I'd rather not. They're my friends after all."
"Friends don't stalk their friends!"
"Yeah, you're right, maybe we'll have to confront them sooner or later if they keep tailing us… later, I hope. Or never would be best. Anyway, tell me about you? So you went home?"
"Yeah, I woke up and took a look around and thought this bunker looked really depressing, and I really wanted my clothes and my laptop, so after breakfast I went back to my bedroom to pick up a few things. As I said, don't worry, I've been extra cautious. I kept my beanie low to hide as much of my face as I could, and I cut through the woods and avoided the streets, and I got into the house from the back. Then I went upstairs and packed as much as I could in a duffel bag and came back here on the double, easy-peasy!"
Max sighed: "Oh, Chloe, that was hella risky! Just as I was thinking of smuggling your stuff back here one item at a time… guess I don't need to do that anymore. But are you sure no-one saw you?"
Chloe suddenly froze and looked away in embarrassment, as she mumbled a weak: "Yeah…"
"Chloe? Did something happen?"
"Well, uh… Mom… Mom came home…"
"Joyce saw you!" Max yelled as she jumped up and felt the panic rush in again.
"No!" Chloe replied quickly as she grabbed her friend and eased her back down on the couch. "Don't panic, I swear she didn't see me, nobody did! Just…"
"Just what?"
Chloe didn't answer. She let go of Max and sat on the edge of the couch, her elbows on her spread knees, her hands together, her head down, overwhelmed by a sudden, intense sadness.
"What happened Chloe? Do you want to tell me?" Max encouraged her softly as she rubbed her back to console her. When Chloe finally spoke, the tears flowing down her cheeks and the lump in her throat broke the young photographer's heart:
"I'd just got into my room when I heard her… didn't think that she'd have her lunch break right at this time, otherwise I'd have come later today… anyway, first I thought, okay, don't make a noise, she'll eat, maybe watch some TV, and then go back to work, but… I heard her come upstairs, so I panicked and hid in the closet. She came into my room, and… you remember Mr Sharkie?"
"Your old shark toy? Yeah, he was your favorite when we were kids."
"Yeah, well, he was lying around… Mom grabbed him, and then sat on my bed, and then… then she just sat there, hugging him and crying. It was horrible, Max! I wanted so badly to… to open that fucking door and tell her, 'Mom, don't be sad, I'm okay!'… but I couldn't… I could see her, hear her, she was so close to me, and yet… so far, because she didn't know I was there… to her, I was dead and I saw how it… hurt her… so I remained in the closet until she went back to work. Then, once I was sure I was alone, I packed up, and I… I put Mr Sharkie on her bed before I left. I wanted to leave her a note, but that wasn't a good idea, so I thought, just the toy, without a word, to let her know I was still around, somehow… is it stupid?"
"No it's not," Max said, her voice broken, wiping a tear from her own cheek. "I… can't imagine how hard it must've been…"
"You know what we talked about before… before I died? That Monday morning, I got into yet another fight with Stepdouche, she took his side like she always did, and I told her I hated her before I stormed out of the house. Here were her daughter's last words to her: 'I hate you'. If I could rewind time I'd go back to this moment and tell her how much I love her, but we don't have this kind of power, do we? I was so sure she… she didn't really love me, that I was a disappointment to her or something, cause we were always fighting, we couldn't talk more than five minutes without it escalating into yelling and slammed doors! But now I'm dead, I can see how much she really cared and how much she misses me and I feel so stupid… I miss her, Max. I really do."
Max nodded and sniffled: "We'll find a way, Captain. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for you to keep playing dead like this, but I promise we'll find a way to make you come back, and then you can tell her how much you love her."
In reply, Chloe raised her head to stare at her with big puppy eyes and asked pleadingly: "Hug?"
Max smiled: "Of course. Come here, you big mushy punk."
They remained for a long time snuggling on the couch, crying into each other's shoulder, until they both eased into a peaceful torpor.
Feels so good being in my First Mate's arms, Chloe thought.
Feels so good being in my Captain's arms, Max thought.
"You know," Chloe said, eventually breaking the silence. "There's still a silver lining to playing dead."
"Hmm?" Max asked dreamily.
"Cause if you end up dating Victoria, as your best friend I'd be expected to hang out with her if I were officially alive, and I'm not in a hurry to do that at all."
Max snorted as she broke their hug: "You idiot! She's changed, I told you! I'm sure you'll like her in the end."
"Yeah, anything's possible. It's called Stockholm syndrome."
The brunette laughed as she playfully shoved her friend who was more than happy to return the favor, and they kept messing around until they fell from the couch.
"You're a massive dork, Chlo!" Max declared, still giggling, as she got up.
"Love you too, sweetheart!" Chloe replied with a smirk.
Max scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Now," she said, shifting her attention to the big wooden board, "why don't you tell me about that board? Oh wait!"
She had just recognized the crayon drawings beneath the papers and threads. Rainbow and sunshine and two happy girls.
"Hey, we drew this thing when we were seven or eight, I remember!"
"Yup! Our best artwork ever! I saw it sitting around the backyard and figured it'd make a great investigation board. By the way, it was a royal pain in the ass carrying all that back here on foot, I think we should discuss shared custody on the truck in the near future."
"You mean so people can see it and wonder who's driving it while I'm supposed to be at school?"
Chloe sighed in annoyance. "Crap, you always find the right words to ruin things, don't you? Anyway, want me to explain?"
"Sure!"
The young photographer surely needed her friend's explanation, because the items pinned on the wood looked like an assortment of photographs of Blackwell students, Jeffershit, David and Sean Prescott, as well as articles from the Totem and other local newspapers, all of these linked by various threads that formed bizarre, intricate patterns. Here and there were also post-it notes bearing Chloe's handwriting: "BAD COPS!", "SEX TRAFFIC!", or, next to Sean Prescott's picture, "ASSHOLE-IN-CHIEF!" None of that seemed to make any kind of sense.
"So," Chloe started proudly, "I'd been thinking about Nathan's conspiracy theory thing when you texted me about that bent cop you ran into. Gave me an idea. If I got it right, Jefferson and Nathan drugged girls and brought them here to take their dirty pictures, right? Now, I know the ABPD are mostly meatheads, but still, how likely is it that they got away with it for so long?"
"Uh… unlikely?"
"Very unlikely. I mean, at least six victims among Blackwell students? And we don't know how many of the 16 remaining victims are other Blackwell girls or even Arcadia Bay girls who chose to remain anonymous. That's huge! And then Rachel disappears without a trace and nobody can find her? Did they even try?"
"Do you mean the cops knew about the Dark Room all along and did nothing to stop this?"
"Maybe not all the cops, but at least some of them. The one you ran into this morning proves that there are bent cops around, which means there's someone in town who has enough money and influence to bend them. And who has, like, all the money in this shit town?"
Max saw where she was going, so she playfully raised her hand like a schoolgirl and said: "Sean Prescott?"
"Good answer! After all, his own son is involved in this thing, and, hell, this fucking bunker is Prescott property!"
"Yeah, people know about this, but he claims Jefferson influenced Nathan into becoming his assistant, and it was Nathan who gave him this place, without his father knowing. After all, he owns a number of those shelters around, his family made a fortune building them!"
"It stands," Chloe conceded. "He owns so many bunkers he can't keep track of them all, right? But look at that."
She pointed to her laptop that was still on and playing a YouTube playlist. She drew her friend's attention to the wall sockets her computer was plugged into.
"Does he keep subscriptions to have power and broadband running in all of his shelters at all time? Talk about a waste of money if he did! No, Max, this place has been made functional on purpose. And I read the papers, all the heavy and pricey equipment they seized in there… I can't imagine it being the work of just two people."
"So Sean Prescott knew what Jeffershit was doing, and he gave him this place, equipment, and then made sure the police stayed out of his business?" Max asked.
"Yup, until Nathan does something so stupid, like, for instance, murdering me in a public place in broad fucking daylight, that even his influence isn't enough to keep the pigs out anymore. So he covers his tracks, protects his son, and makes sure all the blame falls on Jeffershit alone."
"But why? What's Prescott's benefit in that?"
Chloe pointed to the note that said "SEX TRAFFIC!" and declared: "This! The cops found that Jeffershit's been selling his pictures for a hefty price on the darknet. Maybe Prescott got a cut of the profits in exchange for his protection? I'm pretty sure there are rich dirty old fuckers on the other side of the world who would pay mucho moolah for pictures of American teens in bondage."
"Doesn't make sense," Max said as she shook her head. "Prescott is a real estate mogul, as you said, he's got all the money, do you really think this kind of traffic would be that profitable to him?"
Chloe frowned and then conceded: "Yeah, I see what you mean… still, I'm sure it's him, we just need more evidence to prove it."
"How? Interrogate him like we did for Nathan?"
"That would be a fun thing to do, but we can't storm his office in broad daylight, and I've heard that with all the shit going down, he stays in his mansion at night these days. Which we can't really break into because of that stupid sanctum rule… so I gave it some thought, and came to the conclusion that we have to look into his intermediates, bring the whole thing down from the bottom up. Look."
She pointed to a Totem article Juliet had run about the Dark Room scandal, in which she interviewed four of the victims who had agreed to testify openly. The victims' names had been highlighted, and next to the article, Chloe had pinned six pictures with names on it: the four victims from the article – Megan, Chelsea, Sydney and Crystal – as well as Rachel and – Max felt a sting in her heart when she saw the picture – Kate. These six pictures were linked with thread to a picture of David above them.
"Six victims from Blackwell," Chloe explained. "That we know of! How come it went under the radar all this time, in a small 'elite' school that prides itself on providing its students with the safest environment and shit like that? The answer is, they got help from inside. Now let's see, someone who has his ways around campus, who knows and controls the security, and who could sweep shit under the rug and bully the girls into keeping their mouths shut? Pretty obvious."
Then, with a pat of her finger on David's picture, she exclaimed triumphantly: "Their own chief of security extraordinaire, David Fucking Madsen!"
She turned to Max beaming, expecting applause and praise for her outstanding detective skills, but all she got was a frown and a stern:
"No fucking way."
"What?" Chloe asked, surprised.
"I said, no fucking way. It's not David."
"How do you know?"
"I just know! I know him, he couldn't do that!"
"Wait a sec, I think I know him better than you do! You've known him for what, three weeks? I had to put up with him for three fucking years! This guy's a complete psychopath!"
"You're wrong, Chloe. If you just-"
"Oh, so you're on his side, now?" Chloe roared in rage. "Great! Just great! Wasn't hard enough to come back to find out that you have friends, a girlfriend and an awesome fucking life while I get to stay in that basement literally dead to the world, and now I learn you're BFF with the asshole who made my life a living hell all these years? Next you're gonna tell me Damon Merrick is alive and is your brother-in-law or something?"
"Will you just stop!" Max shouted, the volume of her voice startling Chloe. "Just… stop! Please! Chloe, I'm not trying to hurt you or piss you off, I swear! And I don't even know who the fuck this Damon guy is! As I said before, I know it's hard for you at the moment, and we're gonna work on this, just please be patient, I'm doing my best to be here for you and help you!"
Chloe huffed and was about to say something, but eventually chose to remain silent because… well, there was nothing more to say, Max was right so far.
"I'm not telling you your feelings towards David are not valid," Max continued, more softly this time. "I'm just trying to tell you that since you died, I talked to him, and he loves you! He really does, you're like a daughter to him, he just didn't know how to deal with you, and if you could see him like I see him now, you'd see the remorse is killing him!"
"He hit me! You know that?"
"Yes," Max said softly but firmly. "Yes I do, he told me."
Chloe froze, her jaw dropping in astonishment. "He… he told you? Why would he tell you that?"
"Because he's sorry, that's why. After you died, he consulted, and discovered he's ill… PTSD. He started therapy for this. He's fighting very hard to be a better man, and his biggest regret is that he didn't do this sooner, cause then he could've been a better stepfather to you and maybe then, none of this would've happened."
Chloe was so stunned she struggled to find her words: "He told… he told you t-this?"
Max nodded: "Pretty much, yeah."
The punk took a moment to process this, then shrugged and turned her back to her friend, mumbling:
"Well, easy to feel sorry when it's too late. Asshole."
"Look, Chloe," Max murmured as she put a hand on her shoulders and felt hurt when Chloe shrugged it off. "I'm not your enemy here, I'm not taking sides at all. I'm not saying you should forgive him right away, he hurt you and you have a right to hate him, I understand that. I'm just saying he's a better man now that he was before… and I'm positive he cannot be involved in the Dark Room. I saw how he replied to the Prescotts' lawyers, I saw his emails with Officer Berry… he cares a lot about his job and all of us students. And he cared a lot about you. He couldn't do that."
Chloe didn't answer and didn't even look at her. Although it hurt to see her like that, Max knew her well enough to know the best thing she could do now was give her space to deal with her feelings and come around. So she grabbed the two empty mugs on the table and withdrew to the kitchen to make herself a second helping. As she poured the blood into her mug, she took a look at the second mug, and filled it as well. Then she nuked them in the microwave oven and went to put Chloe's drink on the desk before withdrawing again to the kitchen to drink hers.
Several minutes passed, and eventually, she heard Chloe take a sip. And another. And then, her friend pulled the American flag curtain and joined her in the kitchen, playing with her hands and looking at her boots.
"Thanks for the drink," she muttered sheepishly.
"You're welcome. Feeling better?"
"Yeah. Sorry for… you know. I know you bust your ass for me, and it looks like all I can do in return is yell at you and be pissed off."
Max smiled warmly as she gently caressed her friend's tattooed arm. "It's okay, don't worry. You have good reasons to be mad."
"Yeah," Chloe mumbled as she scratched the back of her head, "but it's not cool to lash out at you… I'm a horrible friend, ain't I?"
Max snorted: "That makes two of us. Angry Chloe and Flaky Max. We make a pretty pathetic duo, right?"
It was Chloe's turn to snort: "Yeah, I guess…"
"Now, how about we return to our investigation?"
"Sure. I, uh… I took David's picture off the board, but now there's an empty space and I don't know how to fill it."
"I think I have an idea," Max smirked mysteriously. "Come, I'll show you."
Then she strode proudly to the main area, a confused Chloe following suit. The brunette scribbled something on a post-it note, but made sure to keep it in her hand so Chloe couldn't read it.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Just wait and see. Now, your theory about them having an inside man in Blackwell seems pretty legit, but if it's not David, who could it be? Someone with the power to sweep shit under the rug and bully the girls into keeping their mouths shut, someone who is high enough in the hierarchy to know and influence everything that goes on around campus. Someone who has more power than David, but who is not known for being the bravest man in the world when it comes to making decisions. Someone who could be easy to manipulate since he knows only too well how much the school depends on the Prescotts' money to stay afloat. Someone like…"
And with a dramatic gesture, she stuck the note on the board where David's picture used to be. There was only one word on it.
WELLS
"Holy shit!" Chloe breathed out, her eyes open wide. "You really think…?"
Max shrugged: "It's the only logical conclusion I can make. If Prescott really has an accomplice inside Blackwell, it's got to be him."
Chloe pondered on this, then her astonishment turned to a sharkish grin.
"You know what, Maximus? I think we'll test your theory tonight."
Max frowned: "What do you mean?"
"I'll join you on campus after your date and we'll check it out. If Wells is the man we're looking for, surely we'll find evidence in his stuff. So we'll break into his office tonight and find out. You better suit up, baby, tonight it's Operation Blackwell Ninjas!"
Author's note: Hi everyone, I know I don't write author's notes usually, but I wanted to say special thanks to Darkfire Galaxy, Arlen Rv, FirebrandLioness and all the others for your kind comments and support! Also, special note because it's 2022, which means the classic vampire flick Nosferatu was released exactly a hundred years ago! Happy birthday, Count Orlok!