Pinewood Corner Kitchen Chapter 8
Gabriella couldn’t quite read the look on Graham’s face the next morning as she told him about the conversation Steve Chapman had had on that podcast.
“So he’s psychic,” he said.
“They both are,” she corrected. “Or, at least they claim to be.”
“I don’t see why he’d lie.”
She didn’t bother laying out the reasons that Bradley had given yesterday. Not just because she didn’t believe them, but because Graham was smart enough to figure that out for himself if he really wanted.
They were scheduled to meet with the Chapmans again today anyway, so once Graham was on board to ask about this, they decided to just keep it for the meeting instead of calling in advance.
The sensors hadn’t caught much, but there was a low hum of activity in both buildings that Gabriella was curious about. It could signal an issue with their electrical system and nothing at all paranormal. Or it could be psychic energy. Either way, she’d need to keep it in mind.
Seeing the Chapmans in their home was almost more intimidating than seeing them in their business headquarters. Once again, they exuded that warmth and charisma from their first meeting, but she was so conscious of how quickly it could fall. Still, despite how she’d been treated when they put up the sensors, Gabriella almost found herself swept up in it again as she and Graham came back into the kitchen, where the Chapmans were waiting patiently with more treats.
This time it was a lavender Earl Grey quick bread with creamy butter melting off the sides. Gabriella took a bite, but the taste was too cloying and she politely swallowed, hoping that no one would notice her not taking another. Graham took a few bites of his, but she noticed his praise was not as enthusiastic this time.
“I do have to ask you about something,” Gabriella said, once they’d gone over the energy readings and failed to get the Chapmans to come up with any possibilities beyond Casey Romano. “During my research on the case, I came across a podcast you were on, Mr. Chapman.”
“Steve,” Steve corrected her warmly. “And I bet I know.”
“Yes,” Jan said simply.
Gabriella could almost hear Bradley rolling his eyes on the comms. “That didn’t come up in our previous conversation. And since this is about psychic phenomena, I wanted to discuss that with you.”
“We’re not the only psychics in the world, Gabriella,” Jan said with a small smirk. “And we know that Casey Romano has his own abilities. He’s not private about them and we’ve done our own investigating, too. You talked to him, right?”
“I did,” Gabriella said.
“And?”
“I’m sorry, that’s confidential.”
The smirk just grew wider. “But yes, we have used our gifts to our advantage,” Steve said. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I stand by what I said. If everyone had these abilities, then they’d be using them too. It’s just another way to get ahead in a world that doesn’t want you to.”
The smugness in this room was suffocating. “What kinds of abilities do you have?” she asked.
Steve shrugged casually. “Just standard ones,” he said. “Predicting trends, adjusting the algorithm to our advantage. It’s not illegal, you know.”
“I know.”
They already didn’t like her, so she might as well fall on this one instead of Graham. “Do you think that might have anything to do with the attacks?” she asked.
Both Chapmans were on her like sharks. “What do you mean?” Jan asked, her tone icy.
“I mean, is there some way that these abilities could be involved?”
She should have done more research before asking that question and she knew it. “No,” Steve said. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”
She and Graham looked at each other. “No, I don’t think so.”
The ride back to headquarters was silent for the first half. Gabriella looked at Graham, who was stone-faced as he drove. “What is it?” she asked finally, wondering if she was about to get a lecture.
Instead, he sighed. “I’m just sick of everything going back to the Foundation,” he said. “Just once, I want to get a hobby where there isn’t a single possibility of dealing with ghosts, psychic attacks, or anything even a little weird. You’d think cooking would be that.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Of all of them, Graham probably had the healthiest work-life balance. His other job was in fundraising for a non-profit (that was only moderately haunted), he had a functioning romantic relationship (with a fellow Foundation agent), and he had interests outside of the Foundation that he generally made time for. Gabriella couldn’t say any of that about herself, though maybe that was her fault. But at the same time, it had to really suck to work so hard to keep that balance, only to have the monsters tip the scale.
“It’s no big deal,” Graham said. “I’m just disappointed.”
***
Gabriella tended to give clients her cell phone number because trying to reach her through the Foundation or by calling the main branch line wasn’t as direct. And that was normally a good thing. When she was actively working a case, it helped to have that quicker connection. Only rarely did anyone seem to expect her to be at their beck and call just because they had her personal number. But as Gabriella left her business card with the Chapmans, she’d felt that dread forming as she considered how they’d use it.
And for a couple days, there was surprising silence. But then, at ten o’clock at night, her phone rang. And when she didn’t recognize the number, she knew what was about to happen. Giving her bed a longing look, she answered.
“Gabriella McManus.”
“It’s Steve Chapman. We’ve been attacked again.”
She was wide awake now. “What happened?” she asked. “Are you hurt?”
“No, thankfully,” he said. “But only because we acted fast. Our chandelier nearly fell on us as we sat in our business kitchen a few hours ago.”
And he was only calling now? But maybe they’d gone to the hospital. “We were both fine, but the damage to the table, and to the materials we were working with, was severe. It was Casey Romano again.”
“How do you know that?” Gabriella asked. “Did he tell you?”
“Of course not,” Steve snapped. “Why would he tell us?”
She considered trying to answer, but he kept going. “We’re safe, but I’m very worried.”
“I understand,” she said. “As long as no one was hurt, I can discuss this with my boss in the morning and we’ll figure it out from-”
“Oh no, I’m not waiting until morning,” Steve interrupted her. “This asshole is coming after us at night, I want him dealt with at night.”
When had he become her boss? The words were itching to escape, but instead, she said pleasantly, “Are you and your wife safe?”
“We are,” Steve said. “No thanks to the Foundation.”
Had she or had she not offered to put up protective measures for them? “We can still put up those protective measures for you,” she said calmly. “If-”
“You aren’t getting free rein in my home.”
“Sir, that is what I have to offer you.”
“If I call your partner, will he have a better plan than you?”
“I doubt it,” she snapped. “But give it a shot.”
Gabriella took a deep breath to calm herself. “What I can tell you,” she said, “is that if you’re not in danger, then the Foundation is not going to approve anything beyond the protective measures already offered until tomorrow.”
“And if we are in danger?” Steve challenged.
“If you’ve changed your opinion of the situation and feel you’re in danger, we can have security agents from the Foundation come to help you. That would be outside of our domain but it would likely involve moving you to a safe location for the duration of the investigation.”
He sighed. “We’re not in that much danger.”
“We could also try another cleansing.”
Steve scoffed. “It didn’t work the last three times.”
“Either way, those options remain open. What were you doing when the chandelier fell?”
“Working on our website,” Steve replied as Gabriella jotted down notes on the back of a piece of junk mail she’d received that day. “Just updates, scheduling. We like to do those things ourselves whenever we can in order to stay connected to the day-to-day operations of the business.”
“Was there anything out of the ordinary happening? Or did anything weird happen in the hours before that?”
Steve hesitated just for a second. “No,” he said finally.
“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing.”
She didn’t buy that for a second, but if nobody was hurt, then she’d take it for now. “Alright,” she said. “We’ll be in touch, but if anything else happens, let me know.”
“Thank you.”
He hung up, but she braced herself for another call at three am.
***
When Gabriella got to work the next day at seven, Bradley was wrapping up the night shift. He waved her over to where he was working, two piles of printouts crowding his keyboard, studiously avoiding the still-empty desk space beside him. On his screen, she could see he was looking at computers that looked very similar to what they already had.
“Are we getting a new one?” she asked.
“Through the Foundation?” Bradley gave a sharp, tired laugh. “No way.”
“You’re not going to buy one, right? They probably won’t ever reimburse you.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But that’s not what I need to talk to you about. Your fucking client called here last night.”
She sighed “What time?”
“Midnight. Because a chandelier fell in his house.”
“He called me too and I followed procedure. Did he mention that?”
“Of course not,” Bradley said. “But I’m not stupid. If they’re not in danger and not in the building, like I confirmed six or seven times as he yelled at me for your incompetence-”
“Are you kidding me?” Gabriella demanded. “My incompetence? Bradley, I went so exactly by the book, it might as well have been bullet point by bullet point. So don’t sit there telling me that I’m fucking incompetent when-”
“Will you chill?” he snapped. “Jesus Christ, go take a fucking nap. When did I say I thought you were being incompetent?”
He looked at her expectantly and her face went hot. She needed to get a hold on her temper before it got her in bigger trouble. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“What I was trying to say,” he continued pointedly, “was that he claimed you could do more, but didn’t. I told him that was bullshit after he told me what you’d offered. Are you happy?”
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Bradley said. “He seemed satisfied. But I looked at the energy sensor readings when they finally came through and there are a couple identical little blips on there. Amelia’s taking the morning, so you’re probably going to have to go handle that at some point. Talk to her, I’m going home.”
He closed out the computer shopping screen and stood up, walking slowly but without a noticeable limp, toward a clipboard sitting on the coffee table. He checked off a few things. “Amelia’s in at eight,” he said. “No idea from there. I’m back overnight tonight. Cat’s fed.”
She nodded, aware that her face was probably bright red. “If something happens between now and eight, call me,” Bradley said, picking up his bag and walking down the stairs.
Maybe she was slightly forgiven, at least as much as he ever would. “Thanks,” she said.
Then she was alone in the building, slumping down on the couch with a groan. She let herself have those few minutes to take some deep breaths. It was June. It was over. Everything was over. Robin was long dead and the team had forgiven her for her transgressions. She’d forgiven herself, even if that one had taken a lot more time. Now she needed to not keep going all the way toward the other end and lashing out at anybody and everybody that pissed her off.
Fang wandered in, rubbing against Gabriella’s leg and mewing pathetically. “Nice try,” Gabriella murmured, reaching down to stroke her silky back. “I know you already ate. You’re not conning me today.”
After a few minutes, she got up and started the morning shift. She paused at the empty station. Nobody used it. It wasn’t like they’d started using it as a desk or as storage for paperwork, they all just avoided it. The comms equipment had been moved to the next computer over and the other two had remained as usual while that station stood empty and obvious.
Nothing pressing needed to get done in the forty-five minutes she was alone here. Gabriella flipped the empty desk over so that the legs were sticking up. They’d come off easily if she could find a screwdriver. And after a second of hesitating, she went into the utility closet, found one in the badly stocked toolkit, and had the legs off in about three minutes. She pushed the dismantled desk aside and rearranged the remaining three computer stations into somewhat of a triangular shape. It wasn’t perfect, but it was less lopsided and obviously wrong than before.
She took a picture and sent it to Bradley as she considered what to do with the dismantled desk. Jolene was using the med bay now, so she couldn’t just toss it in there for another team to deal with fifty years from now. The utility closet was full and needed to remain accessible. Maybe she could fit it by the back door, but she wasn’t sure.
Her phone buzzed.
BRADLEY
There’s space in the back bedroom closet for the desk
She guessed that if anyone on the team was going to get over her snapping at them undeservedly, it was him. She brought the desk back to the bedroom, texted him a quick thanks, then started her morning feeling a little better.
