Because I Could Not Stop For Death | Lockwood & Co.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

"No, he got himself a good deal," Anthony stated, no hint of concern in his voice at the very fact that they could be heading into certain death.

Eden swallowed thickly. "Lockwood—"

"And so did we," Anthony interjected, cutting Eden off softly. She sighed, tilting her head as she raised an eyebrow. "This is a job that's finally big enough for our Talents. But we're a team, so . . . if either of you have another option on how to keep this agency afloat, then I'm all ears." George glanced at Eden, who glanced right back at him. Both had nothing else to say. Of course, Eden wanted to find some other way to come up with the money that they owed. She never wanted to deal with Fairfax again and she didn't really want to go to Combe Carey Hall. Slowly, she sat back down in her chair and folded her arms, rolling her eyes. Anthony nodded. "Right. That's decided, then."

---

It was late by the time Eden had decided to finally shower and head off to bed. She knew that she needed to get as much rest as she could before an investigation like the one that they were headed into. She was sure that the clock had already begun to read A.M. by the time she stepped underneath the showerhead, the warm water enough to make her fall asleep then and there.

Despite wanting to bask in the warmth, she made it quick. She could hear George and Anthony walking around in different parts of the house, so she wasn't sure if either of them would want to use the bath or shower and she didn't want to take all of the hot water. As she finished, she wrapped a towel around her body and tucked the flap in to hold it up. She took a smaller towel and started to scrunch the water out of her hair when a knock on the door that led up to her attic bedroom startled her.

She frowned, placing the towel down as she walked down the stairs toward the door and reached for the knob, turning it and pulling it open. George was standing on the other side, an apron tied around his waist and his hands shoved into bright teal rubber gloves. He was holding out their landline to her. "It's Barnes," he informed her and Eden's brows pinched. "For you."

Taking the phone, she hummed. Then, she looked at George's ensemble, frowning at his hands. "Uh, what's with the gloves?"

"Stress cleaning," George replied with such nonchalance, Eden didn't know what else to say.

Nodding, she retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. "What?" she asked, quite harshly.

"Mercer?" Barnes' voice replied. "Inspector Barnes."

"I know," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's a bit late, don't you think? What if I had been sleeping? What if the whole house had been sleeping?"

"You told Lockwood you're leaving yet?" Barnes asked her, obviously jumping straight to the point, ignoring her questions. Truly, it was already past midnight. With their job, they would typically be up at that time, but there were nights that they didn't have cases and they usually slept in those nights.

She also just didn't want to be having this conversation.

"You're crazy if you think I'm going back to Fittes," Eden told him with a flat, bored tone. "You're really crazy if you think I'm listening to you—any of you over there. Not after all you've done."

"Well, wherever it is you're going," Barnes started, completely ignoring her other points once again, "you might wanna go sooner." She had to draw her brow at that, eyes shifting around as she tried to figure out why he would want her to leave Lockwood & Co. even sooner than he had wanted her to. "I thought you should know. Hugo Blake was released this morning." Eden swallowed thickly, her stomach twisting nervously at his words. "We don't have enough to hold him. There's nothing that puts him inside the house. Maybe if you hadn't burnt it down, we'd have some physical evidence."