The Janus Discord (ONC2024)

Chapter 9

Matt sat at the small table in the coffee shop, his arms twanging from the rapid paddle from the island. He frowned, looking at Sheridan, who appeared as she had done nothing more than stroll to the corner store. On arrival she had efficiently deflated the kayak, bundled it up and stashed in a charity donation bin, leaving him to tote the arms satchel. Then a quick recon of the cabin cruiser, a call to Martin, and an Olympic toss of the phone out into the lake.

"You want anything to eat with that coffee?" He asked.

"There will be food at the safe house."

"Okay, but when will that be?"

"We have to scout them first."

"What do you think happened to Devon?"

She tilted her coffee mug, staring thoughtfully at the contents. "I think he was blown."

Matt hadn't expected her flat out certainty. "Surely there could be other reasons."

"Only if he was being held somewhere, or dead. We have a strict set of protocols for these situations, and he missed all of them."

"But you don't think he's- he's dead?"

"I don't know."

He stayed quiet, letting her think. Things were not working out quite the way he expected. First Arthur, now Devon. He needed to get in touch with his own people.

"We need a car, and we need to check those addresses."

"We had a car. What happened to it?"

"It's been found by now and returned to our neighbour. Kids joyriding."

He gave a soft snort and shook his head. "So, any other neighbours nearby?"

"No, but there's a parking garage just up the street." She stood and grabbed the satchel, leaving him to catch up.

******

"What if this belonged to some little old lady who can't get home now?" He adjusted the seat and the belt for comfort.

"It doesn't."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me." She rolled down the exit ramp and did something to the card reader. The gate rose and they were out in the street, whizzing through traffic.

******

"Where were you?" Sheridan stood by the driver's door as Matt sauntered back to the car.

"I used the john while you filled the car. Who'd have guessed the gas gauge didn't work." He grinned.

"You inform me first next time."

"I need permission?"

"I need to know where you are."

Matt pulled a face and climbed into the car. Guess you haven't convinced her yet, Constable.

The door slammed, and Sheridan started the car and tore off the lot, her mouth set in a firm line.

"I'm sorry, Sher."

"Don't call me that. That was Devon's . . ."

"Hey, we don't know where or how he is. Let's stay positive. And I'll call you Wylie - it's faster to say instead of Sheridan."

She stared over at him, the grim line twitching into a faint smile. "Watch for Tanner Drive."

One reasonably slow pass of the designated safe house had to serve as their only chance to check it out and make a decision. Sheridan left the street and drove to a nearby mall to park and discuss their next move.

"What do you think?"

"I think we have to accept the fact that our safe house is safe. The correct markers are there."

"What markers?"

"The ones that tell me it should be safe."

"So, we go in." Matt said.

"We need another car first. If anyone was watching, this one has been registered."

"You want to boost another car?"

She sat, looking out the windshield. "Matt, take the satchel and wait over by that bus stop until I get back." Her hand came up to stop his protest. "I haven't time to argue. Take the satchel and go."

The tone suggested he do as he was told, and he did. Watching her drive off, he wondered why she was so concerned about him being alone at the service station, but here she insisted. The bus stop board seat was hard on his backside, which still ached a bit from the kayaking, and he was happy to see the pickup pull up with Wylie beckoning.

"Not as nice as a car," he said, climbing in with the satchel,

"It's only on loan. We still have the other one when we need it."

"You never cease to amaze, Wylie." He slid his eyes over and caught the grin. The Wylie name was a good move.

They pulled into the driveway, and Sheridan wrapped her arm about his waist, performing the weary but happy couple finally getting home, should any neighbours be watching. Inside, the mood changed as she visually swept the house top to bottom. Matt watched her dig out a gadget from the satchel, switch it on and start a slow circuit of the room.

"What's that?"

"An LM-8 bug and camera detector."

"I thought this was a safe house." He complained, following her around.

"It is now." She put the instrument away and stared at him. "I'm going to shower. You can go when I'm done, and I'll throw our clothes in the washer."

The shower was a treat, and Matt came down the hall to the kitchen, chattering away. "I see this safe house is gender inclusive - lovely bathrobes." He froze in the kitchen doorway as Wylie turned from the stove.

"Omelette sound good?" She held the flipper to one side. Her robe was pale pink and thigh length - and ties were tucked into the pockets. Under the robe was a t-shirt the same length. She was barefoot again and her hair was down for the first time. It rested in soft waves on her shoulders.

"Earth to Constable?"

"Omelette . . . right . . . yeah . . . anything, I'm, starved." He shuffled to the table, pulling his own robe ties tighter.

"Our clothes will be dry by the time we finish eating," she cut the omelette in the pan and slid half onto his plate. "There's ketchup if you want any."

"Uhm- no thanks." He waited for her to sit down. "Be criminal to ruin this domestic, culinary moment with ketchup . . ." His face flamed at her look.

"I could have let you get your own."

"I didn't mean- I wasn't referring to the- the . . .? His words trailed off, and her eyes widened.

They stayed silent, reading each other's faces, rescued suddenly by the dryer buzzer.

"Our clothes are done." She said, without moving.

"We should probably get them out before they wrinkle," he muttered.

"I'll do that," they said, rising together and moving to the small laundry room.

10,258 WP word count to this point