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Then I shrugged, not caring how they got along without me, as I picked the cup up and tossed the old tea into the trash before turning determinedly toward my friend, only to shiver in disgust.
Just because I wanted to save her didn’t exactly mean I wanted to go touching a live mouse. I had no clue how to get her off the glue board and into Lana’s cup—and yeah, it did give me kind of a thrill to put a mouse in my stepmother’s teacup. Definitely.
“Okay, Jacqueline,” I murmured, drawing in a deep breath to bolster my resolve before kneeling before her. “Just bear with me here. I’m going to try to save you. Alright?”
I extended the cup her way, and she began to flail frantically on the glue board, trying to escape me. “It’s okay, i
t’s okay,” I chanted, my soft voice doing nothing to calm her.
I swallowed and then gagged at the mouse smell before I slammed the teacup down on top of her. The soft squeaking I heard from inside made me shiver and almost leap away, abandoning my mission. But I was determined to see this through. So I cringed as I began to scrape the rim of the cup along the board. It wanted to stick, but I gritted my teeth and kept on, coaxing it stubbornly, until, miraculously, by the time I hobbled over the part where Jacqueline had once been stuck, all I found left behind was some gray fur.
I’d successfully gotten her off the board. Whew. The tension in my shoulders eased until I wondered what the heck I should do with her now. She’d probably die if I left her down here alone without me feeding her anymore. Or maybe not. Maybe she’d thrive without me around. I wasn’t exactly an expert on mouse survival skills. But I didn’t want to risk just leaving her.
Remembering the courtyard in the center of the building, I brightened.
JFI was three stories tall and shaped like a big, squared U when looking down at it from above. The center part was cut out to make room for a garden-like courtyard, consisting of trees, bushes, flowers, a fountain, a statue and a footpath through the grass along with half a dozen concrete benches.
I could be dead wrong, but something in me thought Jacqueline would be happy living out there.
My mind made up, I found a square piece of cardboard and slid it under the cup to fully trap the mouse inside, then I lifted the entire mock-cage and shuddered once more when I heard her scurrying and squeaking inside.
I turned the lights off with my shoulder and hurried up the stairs, ready to be rid of my cargo. But once I reached the top and opened the door into Shyla’s area, I jerked to a stop when I noticed the door to Lana’s office was cracked open and a light was on inside.
That had not been on when I’d first snuck through. Scuffling movement from within told me someone was definitely in there.
Oh, hell. What was Lana doing here? I’d been so sure she wouldn’t be anywhere near Nash’s Halloween bash.
I froze, scared out of my mind, because seriously, what would my stepmother do if she caught me creeping through her outer office with her teacup… That contained a freaking mouse inside?
Holding my breath, I started to tiptoe toward the exit when I heard a very male voice mutter, “Dammit. Where the hell is it?”
Straightening, I stopped tiptoeing and frowned at the doorway. Okay, so that wasn’t Lana in there. Then who was it? Wondering who had broken into her office during the Halloween party, I changed course to see if I could peek inside and recognize the man lurking about.
The crack was probably four inches wide, but it left me with just enough room to see the side of Hayden’s face as he leaned over the drawers to this mother’s desk and rummaged, a scowl set in his determined features.
I didn’t mean to, but I gasped my shock, and he started to look up. I ducked out of sight just in time and then rushed toward the door on silent, Power Ranger-padded slippers before easing into the hall and diving toward shadows. I glanced back a second later to find Hayden ducking his head out and peering into the corridor. When he didn’t spot me in the dark, he shook his head and disappeared back into his mother’s office.
Blinking in curiosity, I waited another minute, worried he might reappear. Then I looked down at the overturned teacup on a slab of cardboard trapped between my hands, and I hurried toward the nearest entrance to the courtyard to complete my mission.
I had no idea what Hayden had been looking for in such a frenzy, or why he was doing it after hours in the dark behind his mother’s back, but I figured it was probably something between mother and son, and therefore none of my business.
Jacqueline, however, was my business: my friend, no matter how much the idea of holding her right now freaked me out. I was going to save her.
Relief swamped me when I reached the door to the courtyard without incident. I nudged the push bar with my hip to open it, and then kept myself jammed in the entrance as the light from the hall swept over grass and bushes. Kneeling in the open doorway, I set the piece of cardboard down and gently lifted the cup.
Jacqueline immediately darted out and ran off toward the darkest recesses of the garden. Sorrow filled my dry throat as she went.
Goodbye, little friend. Have a good life.
Hoping she lived out the rest of her days happy and hearty, I set the teacup down on top of the piece of cardboard, abandoning it there—one final way to stick it to Lana—and straightened to go.
Duty done, I brushed my yellow-gloved hands together, letting the door fall shut behind me as I started away, only to slow to a stop about ten feet from the exit. Uneasy because I’d left that stupid teacup in the courtyard, I gnawed on my bottom lip inside the mask and sighed. This didn’t feel right. I couldn’t leave the cup out there. I should at least return it to where I’d found it.
Curse my upbringing! Both my parents had taught me that kindness, honesty, and integrity came above all else. And leaving that cup in the courtyard? That would accomplish none of the above.
Grumbling to myself because I couldn’t leave well enough alone, I returned to the door and shoved it open.
Except I didn’t even have time to bend down for the cup when movement from deeper within the garden waylaid me, making me jump.
