Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

Seconds in Skulls-Lucy

Ok, so I lied to Lockwood. I totally cared. How could he put himself in that situation? Why didn't he do something? At least he told her she wasn't interested. Ugh. I tried to push away the feelings. The thoughts. What it was like to see Megan and Lockwood like that. How could she do that? I treasured every touch, every look from Lockwood, and then she can just take it likes it's nothing.

I sighed and looked over at Lockwood in the cab. He seemed lost in thought. It wouldn't do for me to be upset before a case. The urge to tell Lockwood was strong. But if he didn't return my feelings, well, I don't think I'd be able to do a case in that state.

The ghost light flicked through the window as the cab sped on through the streets. The way it illuminated his face was eerie. Almost like I was seeing him in a different world. He looked older somehow. Serious.

Lockwood felt my eyes on him and met my gaze. He smiled at me, no longer as forlorn. "You feeling alright?"

"Yes. What did you think of Mr. Saunders?" I wanted to change the topic. If I got talking about my feelings I might get mad about him and Megan again. And I did NOT want him to think I was a jealous child.

"I'm not sure." Lockwood had a hand to his chin as he did when he felt like he was missing something. "It seems a little weird. I don't think we need to worry about them putting us out of business, but it doesn't seem like it will work out."

I agreed, partially. "Did you know Sophie Wilde?"

Lockwood's eyebrows lifted slightly at the second change in topic. "Yes, I met her once."

"She died last night."

"What?"

"Kipps told me. Ghost touch." I said simply.

Lockwood pursed his lips together. "Poor Kipps," he said finally.

"Kipps?"

"He was seeing her."

"Oh." I didn't know that. No wonder Kipps looked so down. It wasn't just a fellow agent, it was a friend. More than a friend.

"How did you know that?"

Lockwood chuckled ruthfully. "I may not have picked up on Megan but I see other things. They were at a Fittes House meeting a couple months ago that George and I went to when you were sick."

I remembered that. I had the flu. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think of it."

Boys.

We had pulled up to the house. George was already waiting outside, note book in hand.

"How was the party?" He didn't look interested and he was already flipping through his notes to give us the rundown.

"Boring. New agency. Uses adults." Lockwood debriefed George quickly.

"What?"

"Yep. How was Flo? Find out anything interesting?"

"Well she told me why she likes licorice so much so I think it went well."

"What?"

I smiled. Boys. Maybe he doesn't see as much as he thinks.

"I mean, no. Not much." George stammered.

Lockwood looked up at the house. Haunted houses had a way of looking imposing in the fading light. "Ready?"

We were late. George's Aunt Tildy had already left. But she had left us tea and biscuits in the kitchen.

The case looked simple. The visitor was seen in one of the upper rooms. It was already growing cold when we climbed the stairs.