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Eric regards the two men—who, in a sinister turn of events, I’ve decided look a lot more like undertakers than CIA operatives—in obvious disbelief before he turns to me and says, “I didn’t know your middle name was Josephine?”
“Good one, Eric. Now you’ve gone and outed her,” Chloe snarls, which is a good point.
Eric looks shamefaced, but of course I forgive him. He was taken unawares, that’s all. Easy mistake to make.
“Lucy’s clearly failing at her job if she let you guys just waltz in here,” Chloe says, naming the office’s receptionist. “What do you want with my girl, Maddie?”
Undertaker #1 turns his attention to me, and it’s clear I’m not what he expected. “Are you Madeline Josephine Turner?” he asks in a clipped British sounding accent. But it's not quite British. It's almost as though it's pretend British, if that makes any sense. Although there is something familiar about the way he sounds.
In fact, if I really think about, his accent reminds me of my mom’s.
“What did you do, Maddie?” Eric asks, his eyes bright. “Break some federal law?”
“What? Of course she didn’t,” Chloe snaps. “You’re an idiot, Eric.”
“No, I’m not. You are,” Eric replies. Not exactly mature.
Tentatively, I rise to my feet, my eyes on the Undertakers. “I am she,” I announce, my voice shaky.
I wonder about my sanity. These guys might be hired killers, or worse! Not that I can think of what could be worse than hired killers right now, but still.
Undertaker #1 and #2 size me up.
I tug at my cardigan, wrapping it around myself, and cross my arms. “What’s this all about?”
“I ask that you come with us, ma’am,” Undertaker #1 says.
He wants me to go with him and the other guy? I might not be street smart. I might not have graduated anywhere near the top of my class. But I know one thing from watching cop shows on TV: you never go anywhere with someone who looks as threatening as these guys.
And what’s more, he’s calling me ma’am? How old do I look? I take a mental note to review my skincare regime.
“Oh, I…no thank you. I’m good,” I reply weakly.
“What’s going on, Mads?” Chloe asks. “Who are these guys?”
Eric steps forward. “I’m not happy about all this. What do y’all want with Maddie?”
Oh my, if I don't swoon a little, right here in the office. Eric is coming to my rescue, like a knight in shining armor. Or a Viking in…braids?
It’s a lot sexier in my head.
“That’s between us and Ms. Turner,” Undertaker #1 replies curtly.
“Can I ask what it's about? I mean, I'm more than happy to talk to you guys but, to be honest, you're making me a little nervous,” I say.
Or a lot nervous.
Definitely a lot.
“There's nothing to be nervous about, ma’am. We’re here on official duty. Is there somewhere we can talk?” Undertaker #1 asks.
Chloe brandishes a finger at them. “You're not taking my friend anywhere, scary suit dudes. If you have anything to say, you can say it right here, right now.” She hooks her arm through mine and straightens her shoulders. “Right, Maddie?”
I press my lips together. “Right?”
The undertakers share a look.
“Is this—” Undertaker #1 gestures at Chloe, “—person your designated chaperone?”
