Shadow of Doubt - Hailey Edwards Page 0,54

of them, in all sizes, in the closet for guests who left their homes with only the clothes on their backs.

Most people respected the system and only used or took what they needed, which was fine, but one time a full set showed up on eBay with the POA’s forged signature…

Sadly, we didn’t provide hair goop, so I had to leave my curls to their own devices.

“Ready?” I called to Bonnie as I exited the bunkroom with our dirties balled up for the laundry service. “Midas is expecting us at the Faraday.” I dumped the sheets down the chute then prayed she wasn’t not answering because she’d had an accident she didn’t want me to find. “Bonnie?”

A faint squeak perked my ears, and I jumped as a mouse ran over my foot.

A white mouse.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

As I watched, she scurried from corner to corner, searching for a way out. I could have told her there was none.

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned Midas. He must have said something last night that spooked her. Too bad for her, fear and guilt provoked similar fight-or-flight responses. The former was regrettable. No one wanted to further traumatize a victim. The latter was inescapable. I had to do my job, even when it meant adorable creatures and/or potential friends took their turn in the hot seat.

“This is for your own good.” I caught her in my cupped hands and dumped her into a tall glass before slapping a coaster over the top. “You can’t run away from this. Lives are at stake.”

Too many of them had already been lost.

I had a theory, based on nothing much, that she couldn’t change glamour from mouse to dog again unless she had room for the dog to fit. She would shatter the glass if she tried, which she could shrug off, but I got the feeling there was more to it. That her projected mass required appropriate space to manifest, not just the will to change.

Basically, I had a mouse in a cup. A corgi wouldn’t fit in a cup. Therefore, she was stuck as a mouse until I let her out, giving her room to glamour herself into a larger form.

Thanks to her escape attempt, I didn’t feel too bad about holding her hostage. I would, however, need a ride if I wanted to keep her from giving me the slip before I was ready. I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over the Swyft icon, but I dialed Ford in the end.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” I said briskly. “Can you give me a lift to my place?”

“Sure thing.” The tick-tick-tick of his blinker told me he was already in his truck. “Where are you?”

“Head to Dickerson’s Seafood. I’ll meet you out front.”

Onto my tricks, he pressed his luck. “Sure you don’t want me to take the direct route?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darlin’.” I hung up with his laughter in my ear. “You heard the man.” Mouse-sized or not, gwyllgi senses were superb. “Let’s go.”

Balancing my hostage, I backed out the exit door then locked up behind us. I got a few weird looks from folks on the street. Okay, I got a lot of weird looks, carrying a mouse around in a glass in the city. Most people trapped them or tossed them, but here I was, taking mine for a walk.

The corgi glamour had definitely been less conspicuous, even if it still got us noticed because who didn’t love corgis? People would remember exactly that—they saw a super-cute doggo. They wouldn’t remember me. I was just the person at the other end of the leash. With a mouse? I was transformed into That Crazy Lady with a Mouse in a Cup. The mouse was overlooked, except for the initial double take to see if they really saw what they thought the first time, but I got noticed in a way that told me people were measuring me for a straitjacket.

Mr. Dickerson himself came out carrying a broom when he spotted me loitering in his parking lot.

“Girl, what you doing?” He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. “That a mouse in a cup?”

“I caught it in my apartment.”

“Didn’t have no heart to kill it?” He clucked his tongue. “Dump it here, right here. I’ll do it for you.”

Thankfully, I was saved by Ford pulling in the spot beside me.

“That’s my boyfriend,” I lied to the nice old man. “I called him to kill it for me.”

“That’s fine.” He lowered his broom. “Next time, maybe