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I imagined them insisting that she try again and again until they started to like what they heard. That kind of conduct was considered at least harassment if not criminal intimidation under most circumstances, but it likely wouldn’t stop them.
Pushing down the anger, trying to avoid any more broken faces, my mind turned to Claudia. I was wishing I’d seen her more and I was glad we’d met the night before when I went into the studio.
I was wondering when I might be able to see her again, pondering what my poor pet might do without me, particularly when and if I was found guilty of whatever the prosecution managed to make up.
Trying to focus on happy thoughts, I lay down on the cell bed and got some much-needed sleep.
Chapter Eight – Claudia
It was subtle but present. A disturbance in the balance of things, slight but powerful like humidity on a summer day.
The first indication that something was wrong was the void beside me. Master always spooned me in bed. Holding me close, letting me feel his presence, he was always letting me know he was there, helping me feel safe.
Phone.
Where was my phone?
Walking through the groggy fog, I located the handset in my jacket pocket, the battery only just clinging to life. With a ding and a buzz, it was on the road to recovery, and I called Sven on the direct, private, emergency number going to his cellphone he always answered.
It was a stream of digits known by only two other people on earth. His sister back home in Bergen, Norway, and Seth, for when new orders came in. Each represented one of his three earthly loves: his family, his work, and recently, me.
I had been accepted fully as a part of his life, which made it so odd as to why he didn’t pick up. He always picked up when I called, which was rarely. Sven normally called me no less than five times a day, though. Even on the days we’d woken up together, which should have happened that morning.
He really was a good and attentive master. It hurt to think something might have happened to him. Willing my legs to work again, I hobbled to the main floor of the town house and looked out, his car nowhere to be found.
Seized by the cold hand of panic, I got my phone again and called home, getting only ringing. After heading back up the stairs and into my clothes, I found the change I needed for the bus, as I was in no fit state to be riding my e-bike.
As I was standing at the stop in full fidget mode, my nerves were refusing to listen to a word my brain was saying.
The bus schedules were more of a polite suggestion than a clear order of events. Drivers ran on their own agendas, which mostly involved coffee and bathroom breaks.
There were complaints, of course, but they were also unionized, so there was nothing to be done aside from calling a taxi or ride share.
A mighty engine rumbled under my foot, propelling the mammoth machine through the city streets at terrifying speeds, passing by the most daring changing lanes to get out of its way. Head against the vibrating window, I revisited the plan, not least to figure out my thought process.
Sven was gone and Gen was at work. It was crazy but there was only one person I could think to go to with a problem like this. I just hoped his hours were still the same and he didn’t mind me crashing them.
Professor Hernandez.
Great minds think alike, or so they liked to say. The line up outside the door was a testament to this idea.
“You’re new,” said the girl on my left.
“Um, yeah, I, um—”
“Did you just get in?”
“No, to be honest, I’m not a student. I mean, I’m a student here, over at Fricker’s. Same campus, anyway. I, uh, I wanted to talk to Professor Hernandez about something I thought he could help with. I know that sounds weird.”
“Well, he does always say his door is open. I’m Ashe.”
Gently shifting the baby in her arms, she extended a hand for me to shake. Her hand was smooth and cool as alabaster, and nearly as white.
“I’m Claudia.”
“From Suspicious Activity?” Ashe asked.
“Um, yeah.”
“You replaced Holly Jones, right?”
“No, no one could ever replace Holly Jones. She is one of a kind. There was a vacancy after she earned her promotion and I filled it. If anything, I’m trying to do the same with her shoes. She had it down to an art form.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“How did you know, anyway?”
“I’m Varg’s wife. The guitar player in Loki’s Laugh?”
“Oh, wow, hi!” I said, shaking her hand.
“Yeah. They said you were great as a receptionist. It’s a small community, word gets around.”
