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“Please, please! You can’t just barge in! You can’t just push into Mr. Jones’s office.”
“I just did. Where is he?” she demanded of the wide-eyed Lydia.
“I-I-I—”
“Snap out of it! Where’s the boss?”
“He didn’t say. He just said he had to go and to cancel his book for the day. I was just—”
“You.” She rounded on Shivitz. “You know everything. Where is he?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t presume to ask Mr. Jones where he intended to go. It’s not my place.”
“Where’s his sister?”
“Ms. Jones is leading a circle group. If you’d just—”
“Get her.”
“I most certainly will not interrupt her.”
“Fine. Get the key to their quarters.”
She audibly gasped. “I most certainly will not,” she began again, then chased Eve to the stairs. “Where are you going? Where are you going?”
“To Mr. Jones’s quarters. I have a master.”
“You can’t do that! It’s an invasion of privacy. It’s—it’s illegal. You haven’t got a warrant!”
Eve stopped on the stairs, caught a glimpse of Quilla from the corner of her eye before she froze Shivitz with one hard stare. “You want me to get a warrant? And while I’m doing that, I’ll contact some people I know in the media, let them know this institution, and its founders, are now under investigation for the murders of twelve young girls.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Peabody, can I do that?”
“Oh yes, sir, Lieutenant, you can do that. Should I tag up Nadine Furst for you?”
“No, no, no! Just wait! Just wait! I’m going to get Ms. Jones. You wait!”
“Fine by me.”
Eve leaned against the banister as Shivitz ran. She gave Quilla up to five seconds to slither out of her hole.
It only took three.
“Total drama. Completely better than a vid. You sure got Matron’s skirt blown up.”
“Specialty of mine.”
“Is Mr. Jones in the heat?”
“He is.”
“No way he killed anybody. He’s too do-unto-others and crap.”
“Killing’s doing unto others.”
“Yeah, but not that way,” she said matter-of-factly.
