They spent the next half hour continuing to walk up Comm Ave with the energy reader burbling the exact same vibration. Nothing changed as they moved past long, neatly landscaped apartment buildings that seemed to all blend into each other. By the time they reached the end of the train line by Boston College, James’s calves were throbbing from the walk up the hill. He spotted a bench in front of a small Mexican takeout restaurant and sat down to check the readings and definitely not to take a break before going back down the hill.

“We should bring it on the other side of the road this time,” Bradley said, standing awkwardly by a trash can beside the bench James was on. “If the energy is traveling down the train cables, then we might not be picking up its starting point because it’s on the other side of the street.”

It was a simple concept and James was slightly embarrassed that it hadn’t even occurred to him. But whatever, he didn’t need to put up a neon sign about it. This was why they worked in teams, to get different points of view. That, and to avoid getting eaten. “Yeah,” he said. “Alright. Let’s cross over.”

The trains were still delayed, but starting to run again. A single car train rolled past as James reluctantly stood up. He texted the other captains to check in as they walked down the opposite side of the wide street. It was early afternoon by this point and the slight wind was canceled out nicely by the warm sun. Up here on the Brighton end of Commonwealth Avenue, it was a little more residential than it was in the heart of Allston, where the train had derailed. There were still plenty of shops and bars, but they were outnumbered by long apartment buildings.

“We should grab some lunch in an hour or so,” James said. “If we haven’t found the solution yet, that is. They put lunch on the schedule, so we might as well take advantage of it. Maybe meet up with the others somewhere by Kenmore. What would you want to get?”

Bradley seemed to ignore him, scowling at something on his phone. Finally, he looked up. “I’m not hungry,” he said.

“I meant later. What do you want to eat?”

“I don’t care.”

It’s a nice day, James reminded himself. It’s a nice day and you’re walking around a nice neighborhood instead of sitting in your office. The fight isn’t worth it. 

“We can ask the others,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s around. You probably spend more time around here than I do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Didn’t you say you come to Boston to go to clubs?”

“Not the clubs in this neighborhood,” Bradley said. “These are college kids.”

And now he felt even more out of touch. “Right.”

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, grateful for the interruption.

UNKNOWN

Is this James?

Weird. He answered quickly.

JAMES

Yeah. Who is this?

The answer came immediately.

UNKNOWN

Sorry, this is Jolene Oliver. My report is in with the Foundation, but I emailed you a copy as well. 

UNKNOWN

In case they lose it.

Incompetence or malice didn’t much matter when the end result was the same. Especially when they’d already misrepresented Jolene’s work. James opened his email, found her message three down from the top already, and moved it into an empty folder he’d accidentally made months ago and forgot to erase. He opened it and quickly downloaded the file to his own phone.

JAMES

Confirming I got it and backed it up. Thank you for everything.

UNKNOWN

Good luck.

“Dr. Oliver sent a copy of her report,” he told Bradley, who was running the energy sensor over a festively painted electrical box. 

“Batteries are dead,” Bradley muttered in reply.

“I’ve got some.”

The small supply of batteries James had grabbed on his way out of the Foundation building earlier was rapidly depleting with these sensors. He handed two fresh ones to Bradley. “She gave me a separate copy in case we have any issues.”

“Download it to your phone. They have access to our emails.”

“Don’t be shocked, but I already did that.”

Bradley didn’t respond to this. As soon as the new batteries were in place, the sensor started vibrating so hard that it sounded like it was screaming. “Fuck,” he said, hurrying away from the electrical box. James followed him down the sidewalk until it settled back into the steady buzzing pattern it had had before.

“I don’t think they would actually tamper with her official report, but I can definitely see them losing- Hang on,” James said, stopping short as the energy detector picked up again.

Bradley paused before stepping into a crosswalk across a small side street. He moved the detector toward the street, where the vibrations slowed down just slightly. “Not the cables,” he said.

Then he swung it toward the apartment building they were passing. As it went in the direction of an upstairs window, the energy reader buzzed so loudly that Bradley almost dropped it. “There,” he said, pointing at the window. “Come on.”

***

Neither of them had put any thought into how they were going to actually get into the apartment. But luckily for them and unluckily for the tenants who lived there, the main door’s lock was broken. They walked into a small, dingy front lobby where a staircase and broken elevator provided access to the upper two floors. Metal mailboxes lined the wall across from the stairs.

“This way,” James said. 

He motioned for Bradley to follow him into the dim stairwell and up to the second floor. The energy reader was still buzzing and as they passed the front, lefthand apartment door, it went wild again. This time Bradley did drop it, the batteries popping out as it hit the scuffed linoleum and went silent.

“Shit,” he hissed, getting down to scoop up the pieces.

“No big,” James said. “You fix that, I’ll go see who has this apartment.”

He hurried down the steps and over to the mailboxes. Apartment Two D. There was a small name label on it, but the writing was too worn to identify. He shined his phone flashlight on it and tried angling his head to catch it in a different light, but no luck.

James got back up to the second floor to see Bradley had successfully fixed the energy reader. “The name isn’t on the mailbox,” he said. “Or, there’s a label, but it’s too worn. Or maybe there was never a name there.”

“Notice something, though?” Bradley asked him.

James looked at the door to Two D, then at the other three doors on that floor. They all looked like ordinary apartment doors to him. “No?”

He almost had to appreciate the way Bradley avoided rolling his eyes. “Look at the doors,” he said. “All the others have some kind of decorations on them, but not this one.”

James had to admit he’d never spot that. “I guess that could mean something,” he said. “Or it could just be an empty door. Do you have decorations on your door?”

Bradley just looked at him with mounting frustration, but James honestly couldn’t remember if he’d had any decorations on the gray front door of the little apartment they’d stopped by on their way back from the hospital months ago. “My roommate put some up for spring,” Bradley said finally.

“Our door is actually empty. I had a wreath hanging on it for like a week before Graham took it down because it was blocking the peephole.”

Whatever Bradley was about to say in response was probably awful, but James turned back to the empty door before he had to hear it. Taking the risk, he tried the knob. As expected, it was locked.

“It could be an empty unit,” he offered. “Maybe we could call the management company and ask. You do that while I call Rosa and Jessamyn. You’ve got a scarier voice than I do on the phone.”

Bradley moved down the stairs to make the call from the lobby. Meanwhile, James quickly called the other two captains to give them their location, and both promised to start making their way over now. As he finished up, Bradley was coming back up the stairs. “The management company said they can’t give us that information,” he said. “The guy said it was because he honestly didn’t know. Might be horseshit, but whatever.”

“So we find the owner of the building.” James said. “Alright. We have someone who can do that pretty quickly.”

He hadn’t even put his phone away yet, so he just dialed. A second later, Gabriella answered.

“James, what’s up?” she asked, sounding slightly worried.

“Hey, Gabs,” James said, ignoring the irritated look that came across Bradley’s face. “Listen, do you have a few minutes to help me on a case?”

“Sure,” she said. “We just wrapped up the thing with the gold.”

Fuck, he was missing all the good cases, wasn’t he? “I have a way less interesting assignment for you,” he said. “I need to know who owns an apartment building in Boston.”

“Is this part of your training?”

“I’m not asking you to do my homework,” James said. “I’ll explain more tomorrow, but the Foundation fucked up, and this case is real and hurting people. And whatever is causing it is in this apartment.”

“Give me the address, I’ll do it now. Both the apartment and the unit number, please. Sometimes they are owned by different people.”

Another thing James hadn’t thought of yet. He gave her the address and she got off the phone, promising to call back the second she had an answer. He hung up and looked at the door. “I’m so tempted to kick it down, but if I get points off on the Foundation’s not so imaginary training and get in real actual trouble, I’m going to burn something down.”

Bradley nodded, then his own phone started buzzing. He pulled it out, then nearly dropped that too. 

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

The answer was curt, no surprise there. But instead of answering the call, he just looked at the display for a moment, then hit Ignore and put the phone away. James, despite all of his own self-talk about how other people’s personal lives were none of his business, was dying to see what had been on the screen. But instead of asking, he somehow managed to keep his curiosity to himself. At least until the phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Bradley took it out again, looked at the screen, and stopped for a moment. Then, with visible effort, he scowled and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

“What?” he demanded, clearly feeling James’s eyes on him.

“All good?”

“Fine, Jesus.”

Bradley went to the picture window overlooking Comm Ave and tried to look out toward the front of the building. “I could make the fire escape from here if this window would open,” he muttered.

Great, that was exactly what they needed. A self-inflicted injury this time. James shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t look like it does,” he said, secretly relieved about that. “So we’ll just have to wait.”

His phone rang this time. He saw Bradley reach for his own phone at the same time, but Gabriella’s name was glowing up at James. “Hey, Gabs, that was fast.”

“Yeah,” Gabriella said, her tone odd. “Um, I tracked down the owner. It’s a shell company, but it’s one of the ones the Foundation uses. They own that apartment.”

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 14