“So in case you all are sitting on idle hands, waiting for something to do with your massive amounts of free time, you’ll be thrilled to learn that the Foundation is sending us back in time.”

It was noon and James was officially starting their staff meeting for the day. Amelia shook her head in disapproval at James’s terrible joke. Fair enough. He thought it was funny, but he was running on fumes.

After his discussion with McGovern the other night, he’d tried his best to squeeze the old case into yesterday’s schedule. But there had been no way to do so. Today they had just a few minutes to get started, so he was going to take advantage of that.

Anyway,” James said, shaking off his fatigue the best he could. “They want us working on these retro cases at the same time as our recent ones. So before we start on Fairview Brook and the Rutland case, let’s talk about Blueberry Hill Farm for a minute. Do we have a PowerPoint?”

“When would I possibly have time to make a PowerPoint?” Bradley asked. “I just got here.”

“Alright, no PowerPoint. Blueberry Hill Farm was what appeared to be a very small farm in Leominster, where the owners sent in a pretty bog standard case well over a hundred years ago. In 1920, investigator Anne LeRoux was in charge of this case. She interviewed the family, made a few notes, and then the case was dropped. Our job is to pick it back up again and get to work.”

“Are you serious?” Madelyn muttered.

This seemed so unlike her that James caught himself before he kept going. He glanced at Madelyn, who looked up and seemed to realize for the first time that he’d heard her. “Sorry,” she said. “Not you.”

“I get it,” James said, though he was still concerned. “But yeah, seriously. They want this backlog addressed, and it’s not just us. Every other team has been ge-”

He was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. They all looked at each other, then James spotted that same van from yesterday through the windows behind the couch. “I got it,” he said. “Brad, take it away.”

“Fuck off,” Bradley muttered from his seat as James waved him dramatically on stage, then handed him his notebook. “The farm isn’t standing anymore, and it doesn’t appear to be in the family at all. I’m going to see if I can track down any modern family members to ask if they have any information about why Patty and James…Rockland? Rockfort? McManus, I can’t read your goddamn handwriting.”

“I believe in you,” James called over as he hurried down the stairs to the front door, heart lifting slightly at the familiar outline in the frosted glass.

“-would feel the need to call this in,” Bradley continued behind him. “Or any details about their later years that might help with this. But the farm was torn down years ago, and it looks like one of the several buildings that are on the land now might be the original house, or at least part of it. Gabriella, it looks like McManus has you down to look further into that.”

James opened the door as they continued the meeting upstairs. Sure enough, that same delivery woman was standing there, visor on and a heavy box in her hands. “Another present from the Foundation,” she said with a wry smile as James took the clipboard she had balanced on top of the box.

“You know that last box had cases that are over a hundred years old?” James said as he signed the form and took the box from her. “Let’s see what century these are from.”

He winked at her and she blushed, just a little? Maybe? Or it was the heat and James was reading into things too much. Either way, now he was a little flustered as he shifted the box in his arms. “I’ll see you soon?” he asked.

“You’ll see me, Captain,” she said. “With more boxes for you.”

James laughed. “I’m James, by the way.”

“Meredith.”

He tried to shake her hand, but the box slipped ominously as he held it in one arm. So he let go of her warm hand far too quickly and grabbed it before the contents all fell onto the stoop. The lid popped off and a couple folders fell, but he managed to catch the rest of them.

“Oh, here, let me get that.”

Meredith knelt down to grab the folders just as James attempted to do so himself, causing another to slide off the pile. She picked that up too, laughing as James tried to laugh off his embarrassment, his own face hot now. Meredith slid the folders on top of the box, then set the lid back on, her hand brushing James’s arm as she did so.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She took her clipboard, gave him one last smile, then walked down the steps and back to her van. James turned to go back inside, still holding the box. He was back in the foyer with the door closing behind him before he realized the meeting upstairs had gone quiet.

“What?” he asked as he walked up the stairs.

“Just admiring your charisma,” Graham said mildly. “Captain.”

“She was just helping me pick up the folders,” James argued as he dumped the box on a dining room chair behind the computer where Bradley was intently typing something and ignoring him.

“Is her phone number tucked in one of those folders?” Amelia asked.

“Oh my God, we were just talking.”

“Yeah, because whenever I ‘just talk’ to anyone, I try to show how strong I am,” Amelia said. “Be honest, were you intentionally flexing your biceps just then, or…”

“If everyone wants to shut the fuck up about stupid shit, I’ve got the rest of the case information,” Bradley said, his voice tight.

“That case is older than everyone in this room,” Amelia said. “Even Bradley. This is more fun.” 

“No, it isn’t,” James said as he went to pick up the case file from where it was sitting beside Bradley. “And Bradley’s basically my age, so shush.”

Their hands brushed as he took the file and, unlike Meredith, Bradley pulled back quickly. “What?” James asked. “Did you get zapped?”

“Nothing,” Bradley said. “Let’s just finish this, I want to go pick up all the shit we need for the week.”

Considering Bradley had said repeatedly that said shit was low on his priority list today, James was surprised. But it worked fine within the schedule, so he wasn’t going to argue. “Alright, yeah,” James said. “Everyone leave me alone and let’s hear what Bradley has to say about ghosts reporting ghosts.”

Bradley got through the information in a quick, clipped way that wrapped up within about five minutes and left no room for questions. By the end, Gabriella had her plans in place to research the house, Graham was going to set up an interview with the woman who owned the store that was now where the home had been, and James, Amelia, and Madelyn would be preparing for the two cases they were starting this afternoon.

Bradley left about two minutes later, as James was bringing the box of files into his office. He’d had a question for him about submitting paperwork within the Foundation’s new process, but as he walked back out of his office, Bradley was gone.

“Did Bradley go out back?” James asked Madelyn.

“No, he went to the store. You just missed him.”

“Damn. I’ll talk to him later. No big deal.”

He headed back into his office. Everyone was going to continue to give him shit about Meredith, but whatever. James wasn’t going to ask her out or anything, he was too busy with work and there was no way she’d be into it. But there was no reason why he wasn’t allowed to acknowledge that she was cute. And feel flattered that she clearly thought the same about him.

***

James attempted to sort through the files in the box Meredith had brought, but the folders at the bottom were crumbling too badly to be removed. Whatever earth-shattering cases were in there, they’d simply have to wait. As he pulled out the fifth or sixth folder, it crumbled all over his desk, sending bits of old paper, dirt, and what he prayed wasn’t bone shards all over the surface and scattering onto his chair. He wiped it down with a towel, pulled out another folder from the box, and realized it was not only wrapped in old plastic, but dripping as its seepage ran down his desk in a slimy-looking waterfall that didn’t wash the bone shards (yeah, they were definitely bone shards) away.

After swearing and scrubbing his hands on the off chance any got on him, James went into the kitchen for bleach wipes. There were none in any of the cabinets, so he tried for paper towels and spray instead. Paper towels were running low, but there. Bleach spray was not. And as he opened cabinet after cabinet to random piles of shit everywhere, he finally had to accept that there was no bleach and he couldn’t just ignore the situation in his office because of that.

He reluctantly pulled out his phone and dialed, still trying to figure out when in his schedule he could just go out and get some himself. Or how he could make bleach cleaner at home with household ingredients. Maybe vinegar would save him.

But there was no way around it. The call connected. “What?”

“Hey, Brad, are you at Market Basket?”

“Why? What did they call about this time?”

“Nothing yet,” James said, visions of deli monsters skipping through his mind as he looked over at the mess in his office. “One of the files was wet and leaked all over my desk. We’re all out of bleach wipes.”

“Use spray.”

“You think I didn’t look?”

There was a pause. “Fine,” Bradley said. “Yeah, I’m heading there in a few minutes. Anything else?”

“Get yourself a rotisserie chicken for the ride home. My treat.”

He could feel the glower over the phone, it was almost impressive. “Just the bleach,” James said. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

James hung up and considered his options. He couldn’t work in his office with the liquid in there, so he’d just stay out here. But before he’d even put it back in his pocket, his phone rang with Bradley calling him.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Is it corrosive?”

“Is…oh shit.” He looked into his office where, sure enough, the liquid had dug a small trail into the wooden surface of his desk. “Son of a bitch,” James snapped. 

“Wear thick gloves if you’re going to clean it,” Bradley said. “And open the window.”

“What is it?” James asked, rushing back to the kitchen for the dishwashing gloves as Amelia looked at him in alarm.

“How would I know?” Bradley said. “Just don’t touch it.”

James didn’t think he needed to be told not to touch whatever was currently eating his desk, but he’d save that argument for later. “You know what?” Bradley said. “Bleach might not work. I’m going to be a little longer. I’ll give St. Hildegard’s a call.”

St. Hildegard’s was a Foundation-connected medical unit out in Chestnut Hill, close to the main Boston headquarters. Most of the Foundation’s medical staff worked out of there, including Dr. Jolene Oliver, whom James had worked with several times now. James had never been there himself, but it was kind of a combination of hospital, research center, and paranormal poison control line based out of an old seminary building. So if anyone would know what the Foundation had accidentally sent to him, they would.

Bradley hung up and James sighed, then got to work wiping up what he could as safely as possible.

***

The damage was annoying, but his desk was still usable. The corroded folder was now back in its bag and box, surrounded by other files that were definitely getting eaten by the leaking fluid. James put the whole box in the backyard and called McGovern to report it. He was told to take out what he could and solve the cases he could get to. They’d let him know what to do with the wet folder. And when he said that Bradley was on it, McGovern asked that he just try to salvage the folder. 

After all of his running around for answers, Bradley got back an hour later with a bottle of Market Basket brand cleaning spray. “Use this,” he said. “St. Hildegard said bleach is actually the best way to clean it.”

“Thanks for handling that,” James said. “Did they say what they thought it was?”

“No.”

Bradley handed him the spray and walked out of the office. Right then. The box was completely ruined, his desk was damaged, and his to-do list was half-eaten. James sprayed the wood, scrubbed a portion of it uselessly, then looked at his list with a sigh.

“I have to rewrite this,” he said. “And I want to be out of here at three.”

“You have plans?” Amelia asked from the doorway with too much interest.

“Yeah,” James said as Madelyn walked in the room too. “I’m babysitting for my cousin. Three little girls who are definitely going to have me tied up in a closet before the night is over.”

Amelia laughed as Bradley came back into the room with his bag. “I need to go back out and finish my errands.”

“Go home after,” James said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You better leave on time too,” Amelia said.

Normally he might argue, but yeah, he was leaving on time today. 

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 5