Chapter nine: Questions

"Paul Mortar," Douglas whispered.

"I see my reputation precedes me."

"I've-I've heard about you. The private detective, right? I read about you online."

"I suppose I won't have to introduce myself, then." He rounded the desk, his predatory eyes contrasting his smile. "Do you know why I'm here?"

Douglas hesitated, maybe for a moment too long. "No."

Mortar stared him down, unblinking. "I've been hired," he finally said, "to investigate this place."

"Investigate…?"

"Your predecessors."

Douglas hesitated. If he kicked Mortar out now, it might seem as though he had something to hide. And the investigator would just interrogate him at a later time anyway. Still, was it worth the risk? The animatronics were roaming the restaurant…

Mortar walked past Douglas through the hallway in a casual pace. "Why did you apply for this job?" the detective asked.

Douglas followed, glancing around, hoping the girls would stay out of sight. "I dropped out of college and needed a way to stay afloat," he simply said, keeping his voice as even as he could.

"Why did you stay?"

"Um…because it's my job?"

Mortar gave a slight glance. "I understand your father offered to pay for your study."

So he knew about that?! "The pay here is fine," Douglas said quickly. "And I made some friends."

"Did you? That's funny, because you rarely visit during the day, and the staff members I interviewed claim they rarely talk to you."

"W-well, my friends don't work during opening hours. They're like, early morning, evening shift, you know…"

Mortar stopped right next to a doorway to one of the smaller party rooms. He looked up and nodded to a nearby camera. "I saw you on the cameras just now."

"I noticed. The cameras have a light on them that starts blinking…"

"I saw you wave at it." He turned to look Douglas in the eye. "I'll be honest; I was surprised at how calm you were, considering there was someone in your office…"

"Ah— Well, I thought Mr. Griffiths was doing that. He stays here late sometimes."

Mortar raised an eyebrow. "Even though he'd gone in the opposite direction?"

Crap. He must've seen that on the cameras as well.

A pair of yellow pinpricks flashed in the doorway behind Mortar.

Douglas' heart froze. That… That was…!

"Are you alright, Mr. Goodwin?" the detective said, his smile ever-present.

Douglas looked at him. Only then did he realize that his breath was trembling, his eyes wide.

"I-I'm fine," Douglas quickly said. "The-the thing with the cameras… Erm, it was on reflex, I suppose. When the cameras turn on, I always automatically assume it's him, or one of the day guards." He chuckled awkwardly.

The yellow eyes behind Mortar looked at him nervously. In the weak light, he vaguely began to recognize their form. Golden eyes, snowy white skin and hair.

"And what if it's not either of those?" asked Mortar.

"Then…" Douglas felt sweat beginning to form. "Then the camera system is glitching. Probably. Or someone forgot to turn them off. It happens."

"Yes, Freddy's seems to have a history with poorly performing cameras," Mortar said dryly. "Even when I visited this place ten years ago, Griffiths mentioned something like that." He gave the camera another glance. "Anyway, for the sake of completion, I'd like to do a final sweep of the restaurant."

He turned to the doorway. Mangle ducked to the side just in time.

Mortar started towards it.

"Detective!" Douglas cried without thinking.

Mortar stopped and turned to him. "What is it?"

Douglas stood there for a moment, his heart beating in his throat. "Your… Your two minutes are up."

Mortar paused, then gave a toothy smile, glancing down. Maybe it was supposed to look humble…

"Excuse me?" Mortar said. "Mr. Goodwin, you wouldn't want to stand in the way of my investigation, would you? Do you know how many nightguards came home scared out of their minds because of this place?" He turned back to the room. "People such as myself like solving cases."

"Like how you solved the Snyder case, right?"

Mortar froze.

For a moment, nothing happened, allowing Douglas to realize what he'd just said. What was wrong with him? He'd just blurted it out without thinking.

Then Mortar turned to him, giving another, smaller smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What?"

"The-the Snyder case," Douglas said. "You couldn't solve that one. And now he's still missing, because you couldn't find him!"

Mortar looked him dead in the eyes, his smile shrinking. Oh, his face was calm, but even Douglas could see the restrained anger flaring up behind those cold piercing eyes. Mortar looked like a predator, ready to leap forward for the kill.

Mortar fully turned to Douglas and stepped closer. Despite being taller, Douglas backed away.

"The Snyder case…" Mortar whispered, glancing down. "The Snyder case was…a failure, indeed. A tragedy…"

With Mortar advancing, they had been distanced from the doorway behind him. From the corner of his eye, Douglas saw Mangle's figure reappear to observe the exchange.

"It would be quite a shame if such a case happened again…" Mortar continued. "Which is why I'm here."

As he spoke, Mangle snuck out of the room and darted down the hallway, rounding the corner ahead. Her step was quiet, though Douglas suspected Mortar's talking might've prevented him from hearing her. Mangle had taken the exact right time to leave.

Too late did Douglas realize he had exhaled a sigh of relief. Mortar paused, then turned around to look straight at the doorway. The detective stepped forward and shone his flashlight through the other room.

"I'm…going to have to ask you to leave now," Douglas said, heart thumping.

Mortar looked at him. The anger was less restrained now, and his smile was gone. Without a word he brushed past Douglas and started down the hallway. Douglas followed him all the way to the front door, where Griffiths was waiting.

The manager frowned upon seeing them. "What's this?" he demanded.

"Nothing, sir," Douglas said. "Detective Mortar was just leaving."

"You can't simply barge into my restaurant!" Griffiths snapped at Mortar. "Who do you think you are?"

Mortar nodded. His smile returned. "I apologize, Mr. Griffiths. It's just that the door was unlocked, and—"

"And the sign says closed," Griffiths pointed out. "Get out now and don't come back, or I will call the police!"

"Yes, sir."

Griffiths saw him out.

Once Mortar was gone, Griffiths closed the door and turned to Douglas. "Douglas?!"

"I-I'm sorry, sir," Douglas stuttered. "He was just standing in my office…"

"What was he doing here?"

"He was here to interrogate me."

"Did he see anything?"

"I… I don't know. I was nervous, and I'm pretty sure he picked up on that."

Griffiths looked at him. Then he started to his office. "I'm calling Hector Maxwell again. He should've called Mortar off by now. Oh, and Douglas?" He paused to face him. "Next time, don't indulge him; take him directly to me."

Douglas nodded, feeling stupid. "Yes, sir."

Once Griffiths was gone, Douglas relocked the door, replaying his conversation with Mortar in his head over and over. That had been a close one. In fact, he was convinced the detective would come back.

He quickly searched the restaurant and found Mangle hesitantly peeking out of pirate's cove.

"He's gone," Douglas told her.

She responded by leaving the cove and giving him a hug, catching him off-guard.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"U-uh, yeah," Douglas awkwardly said. "I'm-I'm fine. What about you?"

She broke the hug, still holding his shoulders. She looked him over worriedly. "Did he hurt you…?"

"Mangle, he's fine," Foxy said as she stepped out of the cove. "If he were shot, we woulda known."

"I'm okay," Douglas reassured Mangle. "I'm more worried about what he would've done if he found you."

She shook her head. "He didn't…thanks to you."

Foxy huffed. "Why didn't you just go with Kyle's story of our servos lockin' up?" She turned to Mangle. "Coulda used that to distract 'im from interrogatin' Doug further."

A silence fell. Douglas and Mangle shared a glance, then looked away embarrassed.

"Sorry," Mangle squeaked.

"I-I didn't think about it either," Douglas admitted. "Besides, he might've gotten suspicious anyway, excuse or no."

"Or he mighta gotten less suspicious," Foxy grunted. "Eh, whatever. Anyway, Golden saw 'im enter the place and told us to hide. When he got to the office, we just had to stay away from the cameras. I couldn't move anywhere without 'im seein' me, so I stayed in my cove." She looked at him curiously. "How'd ya divert him, anyway? Mangle just said he got upset or somethin'."

Douglas scratched his head. "I, ah…found some sensitive subjects when I researched him online. He takes some of his cases really personally. Especially the ones he failed."

"Ya reminded 'im of a failed case?"

"It was a low blow," he admitted quietly. "But it worked out."

She stared at him. "Maybe Mangle was right to worry 'bout you. Makin' stupid moves like that."

"I don't think he wants to attract the police just because I made him angry. I'm sure he has to deal with people harassing him all the time, and he hasn't shot any of them as far as I know."

"As far as ya know," Foxy echoed. "Well, whatever. We should talk to the others."