Carefully, I picked it up, turned it around, and tugged free a slip of paper from its corner. I unfolded it, heart racing as I did. It looked like regular, lined notebook paper. Nothing fancy and nothing unique. And written in the middle was one word.
Curious?
“Curiouser and curiouser,” I whispered in agreement.
“YOU’RE SUCHa Luddite, Seb,” Max said as he leaned over me at the computer in my office.
“Calvin had this all set up for me. I never thought I’d seriously have to go through security footage to capture the mad bricklayer.”
After it had been learned in December that Duncan Andrews had somehow swiped my keys and made copies to sneak in and out of the Emporium and my apartment, Calvin had been…firmthat my security cameras be fixed and upgraded. They recorded and dumped footage wirelessly, and I could go through it all at my leisure. There were two angles: one was on the register from behind, to have a view of both the customers and who was handling money; the other on the front door at an angle to include some of the more expensive displays.
Max had the footage on fast-forward throughout the night, both of us watching the screen intently and waiting for the intruder to appear. At just after four in the morning, one of the cameras went black. Then the second.
“Whoa, wait,” I said, waving a hand. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Max paused and went back. “It’s hard to—what is that—are they painted over?”
I stood from the computer desk and went to the register, stumbling over bricks. I grabbed a stepladder from the nearby corner, and after making some space on the floor, climbed up to examine the camera. I reached out to touch the lens, then scraped gently at it with my nail.
“So?” Max called from the doorway.
I held my finger close, squinting at the little flakes that came away. “Spray paint maybe?”
“Are you shitting me? That’s so Hollywood.”
I wiped my hand on my sweater and climbed down. “No one came in the front, so they must have broken through the back door.” I put my hands on my hips, frowning. “But why wasn’t the alarm tripped?”
Max shrugged. “How long do they have to turn it off before it notifies the company?”
“Not long enough to climb ladders and spray-paint the cameras.” I looked back at Max and pulled my phone free. “Just after four, right?”
He nodded.
I gave my security company a call, but the man on the other line insisted that nothing had triggered the alarm.
“I have footage of someone in the shop. Well, I have footage of the cameras being blacked out. Bysomeone.”
“I understand, Mr. Snow,” the man replied. “But your system looks to be working fine. There are no malfunctions, and there were no indications of someone entering the store last night. My date stamp from yesterday is the alarm being activated at 6:23—”
“Yes, that was me leaving.”
“And this morning it was disabled at 9:19.”
“Me again.”
The man was quiet for a beat, and I could hear the muted sound of keys typing away. “I have nothing else recorded.”
“If no one broke in… I mean, someone had to have disabled the alarm.”
“There’s nothing, sir.”
“Then my system isn’t working like you think it is,” I said, starting to get rightfully pissed. “Someone was in here at four in the morning. My cameras were blacked out and the entire shop is full of bricks!”
“Full of what?”
“Not the point!” I shouted.
“I understand you’re upset, Mr. Snow. If you can wait on the line, I’m going to—”
