Skirted Spies: Season 1

Episode 14-3: "Ispio Exists!"

McAllen, Texas: Alisa Granite's House

It didn't take much to get the girl to tell us where she lived. Poor soul couldn't stop fidgeting in the backseat. We didn't even bother restraining her with handcuffs, she didn't look like the type to jump out of a moving car, no matter how slow we were going. Although it was a bit difficult to understand her meek and stuttering voice telling us directions to her street.

"It's that one," she says while pointing shyly at the run-down house with overgrown grass in the front yard.

"Yikes," I said, "I think you've neglected some house maintenance while trying to chase our tails." The girl only blushed at my remark, and Clyde and I got off the car with the girl in Clyde's grasp. He pulled her gently, leading her and me to the front door.

"I need to unlock the door," she whispered. Clyde kicked the door hard, knocking it off its hinges and leaving a giant crack in the middle of the cheap wood. She stood there with her mouth hanging open as Clyde welcomed himself in.

I put my hand on her shoulder, "Should've said that a bit louder."

Clyde quickly covers his nose, "Oh, this awful smell! Don't you ever clean this place out?"

As soon as we entered the house, I was greeted with the same smell. Quickly doing as Clyde did, I cover my nose, but not before realizing that this was a familiar scent. "It smells like that coyote," I said to Clyde.

He turns his eyes towards the girl, "He's here too?"

She throws her arms up and stutters out, "I-I don't know! Maybe he-he came back after he escaped! He could be in the basement or something!"

"Hey, relax," I told her. "We'll take a look around, and you're not allowed to leave from our sight while we do that. Now why would he be in the basement?"

She breathed in deeply, "It's what he calls his hideout. He has all these clippings of old newspapers and pictures of you two."

Hearing this gave me goosebumps for a second. He has pictures of us? I wonder how long ago they date back. And what about these newspaper clippings? Are they suppose to have a hint of Ispio activity in them? I have to get down there.

"Clyde," I called out, "watch the girl and check this level. I'm gonna go down to the basement."

"Just keep your guard up," he tells me.

Every step I took in that house had a nasty creak that followed in the floorboards. I made my way down the hall, looking at several rooms that had their doors open. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, unless you want to count how extraordinarily dirty this place is. Disregarded chip bags and soda cans littered the entire area like some teenage frat house, except without the alcohol and bongs. Finding the bathroom made me almost want to throw up, I wouldn't relieve myself in that room if it was the last toilet on Earth. In the middle of the hallway, there was a closed door that seemed to have a lingering scent of mildew. Opening it revealed the stairway to the basement, and also introduced the new, more merciful smell of damp, rusted pipes.

It was pitch black, which gave me the excuse to use the new light-source-gadget Amelia had cooked up for the case we were suppose to be on. The Attunement Light is what she called it. I pulled out a tiny orb from my pocket, gave three clicking noises with my mouth, and gently tossed it upwards. It stopped its ascent and floated comfortably above my head, and slowly its illuminating light began to glow brightly all around. I walked down the stairs, the orb following me closely and lighting up the basement in the process. The stairs creaked as well every time my foot hit the step, and I realized how scared I was becoming. It was mostly the atmosphere: dark rooms, creaky floors, and basements will do that to you I suppose.