There was another box in James’s office. He crouched down to look at it as he dropped his bag on the floor beside him. This one was actually slightly smaller than the others the Foundation had sent, but sure enough, it was packed so tightly with folders that the top didn’t actually close all the way. 

He was about to open it up and investigate, but the carved path that the previous box’s contents had taken down his desk reminded him not to take any unnecessary chances. So he left it where it was and went out to the kitchen to get some gloves.

Amelia was out there, drinking a glass of water. “Hey, I didn’t see you come in,” she said.

“Just got here,” James said, reaching around her for the rubber gloves. “I just need to check that box.”

“Oh, right, that arrived about an hour ago.”

He wanted to ask if Meredith had delivered it. And if she did, did she say anything about him? And either question was going to get him mocked lovingly, but mercilessly, at least until Amelia went home. But based on the way she was looking at him as he pulled on the gloves, his feelings were obvious.

“Bradley answered the door,” she said, with a valiant effort to keep the smirk off her face. “So if you want details, you’re going to have to ask him.”

“I don’t want them that bad,” James muttered. “And stop laughing at me.”

“I would never.”

That was decidedly untrue, though the smirk did soften into something gentler. “You should ask her out,” she said.

“Madelyn said that too.”

“I know.”

“Did… do you guys not have anything better to talk about at home?”

Amelia shrugged. “We all just want you to be happy. You’re here too much. Isn’t that right, Bradley?”

Bradley had been walking by the kitchen doorway, but reluctantly stopped as Amelia called him. “What?” he said.

“James is here too much.”

“Yeah, I woke up at two the other night during my shift and he was sitting at the kitchen table.”

“Jesus Christ, James,” Amelia said, turning back to him.

“I fell asleep in my office!”

“That does not help your argument.”

Bradley had walked away, thankfully before James was tempted to ask questions about the box delivery that had nothing to do with the box. “Look,” he said. “That’s exactly why I haven’t asked her out. But fine, I won’t stay past seven tomorrow morning, deal? And if I don’t finish my work tonight, I won’t bring it home with me.”

Amelia sighed. “Deal.”

“Now I really need to go make sure that box hasn’t melted my desk. Do me a favor and let me know when you get the readings from Viscoloid. I’d really like to wrap that one up and something tells me it won’t be anytime soon.”

“Bradley’s going to get them later,” Amelia said. “I’m going to follow my own advice and go home now. Unless you need me for anything.”

It was a lot easier to toss her out on time than it was to actually do the same thing himself.

***

“I don’t get it,” James said a few hours later, looking at their readings from Mac’s Auto Body and Daphne’s Sundries side by side on his desk. “Look, you can see it looks almost dormant at Daphne’s, but the readings from Mac’s are fresh. So clearly it is concentrated in the yard, where Mac’s is now. This is such an ordinary case.”

Bradley glanced at the readings, frowning over them. “Mac’s is stronger,” he said. “But other equipment might not have gotten it.”

“But that’s not even what’s so weird. This LeRoux woman, she had all of this in the bag,” James said, tossing his pencil absently up at the ceiling above his desk chair. “She was good. Looking at the information the records department had, it was thorough, and she was good. So I don’t get why she’d just drop this case when it was so close to being solved.”

Gabriella had been quiet in the other kitchen chair for a moment. “James,” she said. “Can I borrow your computer?”

He wasn’t sure why she wouldn’t use her phone or go use one of the other computers, but he had no secrets to hide. “Sure.”

“And do you have your library card? Mine expired, I need to call them and update it.”

He pulled his wallet out of his desk and began searching through the mess of cards tucked in there. No sign of his Leominster library card. “I have my Boston one,” James said, pulling it out of its pocket, “Will that help?”

“No, I need the local newspaper archive,” she said. “I can see if I can update it over the phone. Or run down there, if they’re open. Do you mind if I- ”

“Here,” Bradley said, handing her his card. 

She took it and James moved into her seat on the other side of the desk, so that she could use the computer. “While she’s doing that,” he said to Bradley, “What are your thoughts about the Viscoloid readings?”

“There’s at least two entities in that building,” Bradley said. “There’s too much going on and there’s too many anomalies in the readings themselves for it to be one spirit, at least of any type I’ve ever heard of. So we should treat this as a multi-entity haunting and plan the cleansing from there.”

“Agreed,” James said. “I saw the way the windows are jammed though. We may need to break one if there isn’t a direct way to release the spirit through open doors.”

“And you think the Foundation will cover a broken window?”

“When the other option is not getting the ghosts out at all, I think it’s worth considering.”

“And you can consider it pulled out of your own paycheck. They wouldn’t cover the repair if you fell through the window saving the building owners.”

“Look, it’s worth trying.”

“No, it’s not. What, are you going to go in there with a hammer and-”

“Bradley, what’s your password?”

He rattled it off to her while still glaring at James. She typed it in as he continued. “-and just start shattering windows until the ghosts decide it’s time to leave?”

“No, I’m going to toss you through it and see what happens. I’m not actually planning to do anything, I just think we need some ideas so that the entire investigation isn’t derailed by some painted-over windows.”

“Have you even tried opening them yet?”

“Of course I have.”

“They’re not going to give a shit,” Bradley said. “They’re going to care more about the case getting done than about you or your safety.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Gabriella said softly.

“What do you mean?” James asked.

“I mean, we’re trying to figure out why this case was dropped so suddenly in 1920, then never picked up again?”

“Yeah. Did you find something about it?”

“Not the case, no. But I did find Alice LeRoux’s obituary. She died in a car accident May 18, 1920. Her final report is dated the same day.”

“So she died,” James said. 

“Yeah.”

“How old was she?”

“Forty.”

He exchanged a look with Bradley. “And they just dropped the case after?”

“Yeah,” Gabriella said.

James was silent for a second, looking at Bradley. Then he broke eye contact, his gaze shifting around the office. LeRoux hadn’t had this office, she’d worked for Worcester County long before the county branches had been split, or this house had even been built. But her obituary had been in the Leominster papers, meaning she was local. She definitely hadn’t been captain in 1920, but she’d been a member of the team. What was her role? She could have been the researcher. Or the logistics coordinator.

But what she hadn’t been was important. At least not to the Foundation.

“Hey guys,” James said suddenly, looking out the window behind his desk. “I’m buying us dinner. Come on.”

“You don’t have to,“ Bradley said. 

“Do you like sushi? Gabs, what about you?”

Gabriella was gazing at the computer screen, where the obituary was still up. “Gabs?” James prompted. 

“Yeah. I like sushi.”

He glanced at Bradley, who nodded. “Sushi sounds good. “

“Gabs, go check with Madelyn. See what she wants for dinner.”

Gabriella stood up, sliding Bradley’s library card back across the desk toward him. He took it, then slid it in his wallet with equally deliberate movements.

James and Bradley were silent as Gabriella went out and talked to Madelyn. The two of them came into the office a moment later, Madelyn limping behind Gabriella.

“We’re done for the night,” James said, pulling an old notepad toward himself. “Tell me what you want for dinner. We’re doing Sakura Grill. I’m buying, so don’t argue and just tell me what you want.”

“James, what’s going on?” Madelyn asked.

“We’re taking a break. I guess technically, you guys don’t have to stay. We have to have one person in the building at all times, so I’ll stick around. But we’re done working until six tomorrow morning. So go home if you want, but let me order you some dinner to bring with you.”

He waited for Bradley in particular to head out. But he didn’t move out of his chair. The other two stayed where they were behind him in the doorway. 

James wrote his own dinner order on the pad, then pointed at Gabriella with the pen. She gave hers, then Madelyn. He pointed at Bradley finally, who shrugged and told him. 

“Great,” James said, that strange, quiet rage simmering inside of him still as he thought of LeRoux’s neat handwriting on those files. He wondered where she was headed when she died. Was she on the clock with the Foundation? “I’ll call this in now.”

***

An hour later, they were all sitting at the dining room table. The weapons and tools had been shoved down the other end, leaving some space to eat. James wouldn’t have said no to a beer, but that might have been pushing his luck. So instead he had a seltzer on the table in front of him, as did all the others.

“I figured something a little different from pizza or McDonald’s might be a good change of pace,” he said as he pulled out his order, an Alaska roll and a spicy tuna roll. “Maybe even get a vegetable in for once. Bradley, any vegetables in that?”

He passed Bradley the udon dish he’d chosen. Bradley looked at him for a second, then laughed slightly. “Some.”

“Good, eat your veggies. Alright, Gabs, I think this is you?”

He passed Gabriella’s rolls across the table to her, then handed the last container to Madelyn, who was at the head of the table with her old folding cane leaning against her chair. 

“Alright, here’s the rules for the night,” James said as he broke apart the wooden chopsticks that had come with his food. “No work talk. If you’re going to stay here, good, get paid. No work talk unless an emergency comes through. A real emergency. None of the paperwork they’re after us for is an emergency. None of these decades-old cases are emergencies. If anyone has a work question that can’t wait until tomorrow morning, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

He paused, considering. “Okay, speak now or hold your peace for twelve hours.”

He glanced around at the other three, none of whom said anything. “Alright,” he repeated. “In that case, enjoy.”

The food was pretty good. This was his standard order, and he got takeout from Sakura every six months or so. They were better than the one closest to his house, so it had been worth the extra charge to get it delivered here. He’d considered going to pick up the food himself, but the thought of Alice LeRoux’s final car ride had gotten to him and he switched from takeout to delivery at the last second. An indulgence he was grateful for right now.

The atmosphere was silent and awkward for a moment as they started eating. James was right there with them, suddenly at a loss for what to talk about if they weren’t talking about work.

“I like Sakura Grille better than Kyoto,” he said after a moment. “Kyoto’s fine for the seafood, but I’ve had bad luck with the noodles there.”

The words hung in the air for a second, but then Bradley nodded. “These are better.”

Another long beat of silence. How? He spent most of his life with these people. The words “How’s school?” were almost out of his mouth, the habit of years with awkward silences with younger cousins. But they’d probably get him confused looks from two of them and noodles in his face from Bradley. So he wracked his brain, trying and failing to come up with something else.

“I’m going to Brazil next spring,” Madelyn said after another moment. “Did I tell you guys that?”

“No,” James said. “That’s awesome. When?”

“Whenever I can get a consecutive week off,” she said. “Wait, that counts as work.”

“Consider it done,” James said, waving off her concern. “Where are you going?”

She started telling them about her grandmother, who lived a couple hours outside Rio de Janeiro. Her mother had been back there fairly often to help with her grandmother’s care, but it had been about ten years since Madelyn had gone back to the city where she’d lived until she was three. So she and her mother, who now lived in Buffalo, were making a trip of it.

“Tell me the days,” James said, “I can make it work.”

She smiled so gratefully that he almost felt guilty. It was a one week vacation. Ten days at the most. People took those all the time. And poor Madelyn had dealt with the Foundation being so shitty to her after her surgery earlier in the summer when she took all of two weeks off. 

Now that he was thinking of it, that was probably why she was so willing to work with whatever days he could get her. 

And now he was going to stop thinking about work for a little while too, and listen to Madelyn tell them about Teresópolis. He’d never considered going there before, but by the time she was done detailing her grandmother’s neighborhood, James was tempted to buy his own plane ticket.

“I’ve only been to Canada,” Gabriella said. “We went on a school trip senior year to Montreal. It was cool, I’d like to go back sometime.”

“I’ve never even been there,” James admitted. “I haven’t left the country yet. But I’ve been to a lot of the West Coast though. I dated a guy in college who was from California, but went to college in Connecticut, don’t ask me why. Actually, the summer between junior and senior year of college, me, him, and two of our friends took a road trip through the US. Three weeks in a car with four twenty-one-year olds. It fucking reeked in there, but it was fun. We got to see the Roswell museum, that tourist trap with the aliens.”

“Oh, yeah?” Gabriella said.

“Yeah. They had a lot of the same shit that the Foundation has, come to think of it.”

He turned to Bradley. “Have you traveled much?”

He waited for Bradley to say something terrible, but he just nodded as he swallowed a bite of noodles. “Yeah, I spent time in Europe as a kid.”

Right. Bradley didn’t talk about it much, but his family was loaded. And awful, based on one conversation they’d had about it during the Delinsky case. “Yeah?” James prompted. “Where’d you like?”

“My mom’s family has a house in Cassel,” Bradley said. “In France.”

“That’s cool,” James said, trying and failing to place Cassel on a mental map of France. “Do you go there at all? I mean, when were you last there?”

Not in the past four years, James knew that for sure. And he knew Bradley didn’t talk to his mother, which didn’t seem like a new thing. So it was unlikely he still traveled with that side of the family. And just like days earlier when James had asked about school, Bradley looked uncomfortable again. And James’s plan to have a relaxing evening where the Foundation didn’t matter was at risk.

“It’s been a while,” Bradley said, with a shrug. 

After they were done eating, James went into the living room and turned on the TV. It felt forced and somewhat performative, like they were pretending to have an ordinary night in at home. Where the four of them apparently lived together in an old raised ranch house? But everyone else seemed to be in the same frame of mind, because nobody said anything about it. 

Or left. He’d still expected that at least one of them would prefer to take the rest of the shift off and go home. They were all scheduled until eleven, when James was going to take the night shift solo. It was getting a little late, but there was still plenty of time until then.

His original plan had been to get all that paperwork done tonight. The Foundation had been hounding him for it and having four people on meant it’d be more likely that someone could devote time to it. But everyone was tired and apparently if they were to drop dead, the Foundation would drop these vital, extremely important cases before their bodies were cold. 

The TV remote was miraculously on the coffee table, so James flipped through until he found some nature documentary going on one of the terrestrial channels. He offered the couch under the window to Madelyn, who laid down gingerly with her knees up and a pillow tucked under them. He took the chair and the other two found seats in the living room too.

It was oddly comfortable after a little while, sitting here watching a documentary about polar bears with his friends. The polar bears then moved straight into the next one, which was about river salmon.

James glanced over at Gabriella a little while later. She looked far more thoughtful than a documentary on river salmon would have generally made her, absently trailing a finger over the scar on her face as she watched. “What’s up?” James asked.

“I’m still going to finish the case,” she said. “Not right now,” she added. “But tomorrow. She deserved better.”

He glanced at the others. Madelyn was asleep with Fang curled up on her legs, but Bradley was watching them instead of the fish mating on screen. “I have LeRoux’s notes,” Gabriella continued. “And it’s straightforward. I have a couple theories I want to dig into tomorrow, and I might have to go back to Boston to see if the archives have anything that Records didn’t. But it’s been over a hundred years, I want to put it to bed for her.”

“Do you need anything else to do that?” James asked.

Gabriella thought for a second as the narrator detailed the mating rituals of the salmon in this particular river. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I have LeRoux’s notes and I have a theory about the fields around the house.”

“Care to share?”

“Nah, I’m not allowed to talk about work right now.”

Bradley huffed a laugh from where he was propped on a few old pillows on the floor by the couch, watching the salmon again. “Fair enough,” James admitted. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 17