Belport’s
weather was foul, fouler than normal, which generally drove down business.
Jessie surfed the web while I enjoyed some Raymond Chandler, at least until the
flash of lightning blinded me, followed by the thunder crack right above the
building.
“Oh no,” I
said.
“You say
something, Boss?” Jessie called back.
“Lock the
door!” I jumped up, following my own advice.
“What?
Why?”
She sprang
up, going to the door and locking it, quickly.
I settle in
on the couch, farthest from the door, waving her to join me when she peeked
around the corner.
“Boss,” she
whispered, “what are we doing?”
“Hiding. That
little pyrotechnic display meant visitors,” I whispered back.
“Don’t we
want business?”
“Not this
kind. Definitely not this kind.”
We waited.
The rain
kept up, but otherwise there was no sound. I kept watching the frosted window
in my door.
Every time they show up, my world gets
worse. We’re not here. Move along. Call and leave a message. Wait!
I pulled
out my phone, silencing it. Just in time as a call came through, showing Kate’s
picture, a selfie of her in the clouds with lightning all around.
I put a
finger to my lips, miming silence to Jessie as we watched the phone. After
several seconds, it went to voicemail. And then she called again. I kept
waiting for them to test the door, but it didn’t happen.
They must be still coming up the elevator.
I ignored
the second call.
There was a
knock at the window.
Not the
door’s window.
My head
whipped to the window looking out to see Kate and three other storm riders
hovering in midair, one of whom was unconscious. Kate tapped on the glass with
one knuckle and held up her phone with the other. She looked smug. They all
looked smug.
“Dammit!”