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When the doors open on the ground floor, I hang up and step out to find Seraphina waiting by the security desk in a perfect skirt suit, high heels, and a sexy blowout not at all like what she wore last night out front of Tim’s bar.
This quasi-ambush has become her thing. Instead of being as forward as Aubree and demanding we be friends, even against my will, Seraphina would rather wait in the lobby and coincidentally join us as we stroll out.
“Fifi.” I keep on walking and make her run to keep up. “Do you need something?”
“Uh, well…” She fumbles her massive handbag and sprints through the revolving floor-to-ceiling door at the front of the building. “Tiffany Hewitt has announced Marina Georgiana’s name on the news, creating a crazed, man-hating manhunt for Victor, even without the detectives’ corroborating statement.”
“That’s information for the guys, no? Have you called them?”
“No. I was…” She follows when I turn left on the sidewalk and head toward Copeland First National Bank. In my hand, my phone dings with an email, and when I glance down, I find Archer’s name again, and attachments I suppose he wants me to wave in front of the bank teller. “I was hoping to discuss it with you first. Ya know, my chief and superior.”
“Thanks. But I don’t need to gatekeep this information. Send the detectives an email, and copy me in if it makes you feel better—though, if you’ve seen that news piece, I’d bet good money the police have too. It seems Victor Georgiana is our perp on this one, and Detectives Malone and Fletcher are aware.”
A soft spring breeze whips my hair back as traffic putters by on our right and the sun works its way toward the horizon. We still have another couple of hours before dark, but the temperature isn’t all that high. It’s balmy and perfect, really.
The kind of weather a man might be comfortable hiding from the authorities in for a long while.
“I’m hopeful they pull him in and put him away,” I continue. “Beforehe panics and hurts someone else.”
And if we’re lucky, Fletch will get over his bad mood soon.
“Wait. Come in here.” Aubree grabs my sleeve and tugs me through a doorway so we emerge in a store spewing with color.
Rainbows. Plush toys. Squealing children, pregnant mothers. Strollers in the walkways, and kids screaming because they wantthattoyright now.
“Holy shiiii…” I stop on a dime and study the mayhem.Has there been a break-in? A tornado?“Why is everyone crying?”
A blue flower—a woman in a costume—dances to a Barney song, and a mom flips her boob out to feed her baby. A basket of stuffed teddies spills to the floor, and toddlers fight over who gets the prettiest gadget with the highest price.
Though of course, they all look the same to me.
“This can’t be normal, right?” Desperately, I peer to Fifi… and find her expression much the same as I imagine mine is. Horrified. Terrified. Then I look to Aubree and find a sweet smile. Maternal. Joyful. “What the hell is this, Emeri?”
“A toy store.” She keeps hold of my sleeve and drags me along the rows and rows of fluffy crap. “We’re looking for Care Bears.”
“But…” I trudge forward, even as I look back the way we came. “Is no one going to help the victims? They’re screaming, Aubs.”
“They’re not victims,” she laughs, yanking me to the side just a half step before I tread on a child. “They’re just people going about their lives. They’re kids having fun.”
“They’re crazy.” I yelp when twins in matching dresses sprint in front of us. “They’ve been possessed.”
Aubree brings me to a stop in front of a Care Bear display and shakes her head. “They’re completely normal, Mayet. They’re children. Children squeal and play and have energy for days.”
“Mia isn’t likethis.” I point to the end of the row, where a kid throws a tantrum, slamming his little fists on the floor, while Mom stands over him and watches. “Mia’s not… insane.”
“That’s because Mia is special.” Stepping forward with a snicker, Aubree grabs a yellow bear and turns to show it off. “Maybe you could get the blue one, and Fifi can get another, so on Thursday, Moo will get all these different bears and drown in the cuteness.”
“My name isSeraphina.” Fifi plucks a purple bear from the shelf with the tips of her fingers, like fluff and stuffing could bite her if she holds it too hard. “You may call me Ms. Lewis.” Moving back again, she studies the bear like it offends her.
I get the distinct feeling Fifi was never actually a kid. She came into this world in a suit and heels, and has never once associated with anyone under twenty-one.
The fact she’s attending Mia’s birthday at all is a miracle.
I pick up my selection and scowl. “Is this all I have to get?”
Aubree laughs and turns away. “You’re as bad as each other, I swear.” She steps around a child and dodges a tossed football. Walking the minefield with a smile, she leads us toward the checkout area. “We love Mia. She’s adorable.”
“Right.” I hold the bear close, though I only allow the cardboard backing to touch my body. “But Mia is normal. The rest of these kids should maybe consider getting tested for rabies.” I look down at one who sucks on a lollipop and crawls on the floor. “This is manic behavior if I ever saw it.”
