Artful Evil Page 9

  I unzipped my jacket to reveal the nearly dry t-shirt underneath.

  “See,” she said. “Now can we go check out the town?”

  With all the excitement of my Chinese water torture, I had almost forgotten why we had come here in the first place. Bozeman, Montana. It was the scene of Alex’s future train derailment.

  She had described the place as a tiny, little, out of the way town. I would describe it as a minor city full of people, restaurants, cars, and ... more people.

  As we walked along, I gawked at the size of the place. How could Alex consider this a small town? I glanced over at her. She all but skipped down the street she seemed so pleased. Then it hit me. I had no idea where she was from. If she had grown up in New York City or Downtown LA then of course this would seem like a tiny town to her. To me, a guy who grew up in the suburbs of Colorado, Bozeman looked like a virtual metropolis.

  “There it is.” Alex pointed across the street, and I followed her gaze to the railroad tracks several yards away. “That’s the bend. The curve is even steeper than I thought it would be. Excellent.” She smiled.

  I looked around at all the commerce, restaurants, and roads that fronted the tracks. There was a bike path and Riverwalk that mirrored the train route and to our left, the entrance to the Gallatin County fairgrounds.

  Alex took off at a slow jog toward the tracks, but a man caught my eye just outside the fairground entrance. He stood on the top rung of a ladder hanging a colorful banner. I had noticed similar signs around town but hadn’t taken the time to read them. This one I couldn’t miss. The huge block letters read Fourteenth Annual Testicle Festival.

  I raised an eyebrow and couldn’t resist. I walked over and peered up, trying not to distract him to the point where he fell and broke his neck.

  “Hello.” I raised a hand and waved.

  He looked down and smiled. “You’re a little early for the festivities.”

  I glanced toward the fairgrounds. “I guess I am. I was just passing through and saw your banners. Is this festival a pretty big deal or what?”

  The man beamed with hometown pride. “People come in from all over the country. We’re expecting just over six thousand this year.”

  My jaw fell open. “To do what?”

  The man lost a little of his smile and pointed at the sign. “It’s the Testy Fest. Music, beer, and good old Rocky Mountain Oysters, of course.”

  I made a face. “You eat them?”

  “Sure do.” The man laughed. “By the time the festival comes to a close, upwards of around seventy-thousand of them.”

  I blinked. “Seventy-thousand bull testicles?”

  “We have turkey testicles too.” He said it as if the statement were a normal fact, like cows have milk or chickens have wings.

  “Turkey testicles?” I choked back the horror of that particular image and asked the question I feared I already knew the answer to.

  “So, when is this Testy Fest? I’m in town for a few days, maybe I could stop by.”

  The man smiled. “That’d be great. It all kicks off the day after tomorrow. Come on by and check it out.”

  I nodded and started to walk away then turned back.

  “This might be a weird question, but I’m sort of a train buff. I like to check out railroad bridges and snap a few pictures wherever I go. I don’t suppose you have anything like that around here?”

  The man’s hometown pride beamed again. “Head a few miles west of town and you’ll run into Strough’s Bridge over Trestle Creek. It’s a doozy. If you’re into bridges, that one will give you plenty to look at.”

  I raised a hand to wave again. “Thanks, and good luck with your festival.”

  The man waved and went back to work on his banner. I headed toward Alex in the train yard, but my eyes remained planted to the West. If I wanted to stop this wreck from happening, I would have to find a way to get back here alone and see about that bridge.

  Chapter Twenty

  We finished our railroad recon topside and returned to The Agency via the vomit extractor. I wondered if I would ever get used to traveling through the Envisage Splice or if I just had to live with the brain shaker aftermath. Either way, the trip back did not improve my mood. Alex remained all but giddy about destroying that happy, little town. I wasn’t even sure I knew her anymore.

  “Who put a hornet in your jockstrap?”

  I turned to see Alex staring at me as we walked the wide hall of black marble leading away from the Envisage elevators. Unlike the rest of The Agency, this place was almost always empty. We hardly ever ran into anyone in here, making it feel like a dark, echoed mausoleum.

  My face had twisted into a scowl that felt as if it might become permanent. Alex raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

  “You’re going to paint that town in a masterpiece of suffering and destruction, and you’re nothing but happy about it. I’m sorry if that doesn’t sit well with me.”

  Alex rolled her eyes and looked away from me. “Spare me the theatrics. We’re doing this your way, remember? Small town? Empty train? Limited casualties?”

  I threw my arms out to the sides. “A small town brags about the one stoplight they have on Main Street. Bozeman is a small city. There’s a college, restaurants, apartment buildings. I bet there are thousands of people within fifty yards of that track.”

  Alex scoffed. “There’s plenty of space between the buildings and the tracks.”

  I stopped and pulled her around to face me, my voice echoing off the walls as I raised my voice. “Do you have any idea how much ground a speeding locomotive covers before it stops? I talked to a guy up there who said they’re having a festival that day at the fairgrounds. The fairgrounds are right next to the tracks. They’re expecting six thousand people! Add that to the thousands who already live there, and this is no small-town train wreck with limited casualties.”

  Her expression went hazy, and for the barest of moments, I saw doubt cloud her eyes, then it disappeared again.

  “This thing is going to make plenty of noise. I’m sure they’ll get out of the way.”

  “Six-thousand people, plus everyone in the buildings, and on the street? Do you picture this locomotive crashing in slow motion?”

  Alex fixed her eyes on me and poked a finger into my chest, all semblance of her smile gone.

  “Look, I’ve tried to make this as Gabe friendly as I can. Bottom line is flower petals and free lemonade don’t fit the definition of a disaster. Keeping our jobs at The Judas Agency depends on us performing this sort of event, whether it be on our own or under orders. Can’t you see that I’m doing this for both of us? I’m doing my best to make sure we stay employed and out of the literal gutter.”

  I expected her face to be contorted in anger, but instead I saw desperation. Her pleading eyes wanted me to understand. Begged me to agree with her. I could not. In a twisted way, Alex believed destroying that town was the right thing to do, but that didn’t make it better. It didn’t even make it acceptable. At least I took solace in the knowledge that I would do everything in my power to prevent the catastrophe from happening.

  When I didn’t say anything, Alex grabbed my arm and pulled me forward again.

  “Come on. I want to show you something. I’ll probably regret it, but anything is better than watching you pout like this.”

  I followed along, fighting an urge to glare at her every step of the way. I was not pouting. I felt angry, disappointed, even hurt—but pouting? That was like saying the Japanese had a hissy fit over the A-bomb. Some reactions were justified, and this was one of those times. I was about to open my mouth and say as much when Alex pulled me up short.

  We stood in a narrow hallway just outside an unassuming door. Considering every other entrance in the building seemed dauntingly oversized or adorned with some sort of horrific carving, this one was a nice change of pace.

  “You can never repeat what you are about to see in here. I don’t know who owns this place, or even why it
’s here, but if anyone else finds out about it ...” Alex shook her head as if she didn’t dare finish the sentence.

  I held up my right hand and peered at the innocuous looking door.

  “I swear, but your hiding place isn’t all that hidden. I mean, it’s just a door in a hallway. It looks pretty plain an all, but ...”

  Alex rolled her eyes, grasped the doorknob in one hand and my wrist in the other, then yanked the door open to step inside the room.

  The door slammed behind me, and it took a moment for the lights to come on. When they did, the irritating hum of fluorescent tubes filled my ears, their depressing grey/blue light flooded the room.

  “A file room?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from dripping out of my voice. “Your big secret is a room full of shelves and filing cabinets? I can see why you swore me to secrecy. You wouldn’t want anyone to find out about this place.”

  The room stretched an impressive distance, maybe half the length of a football field, every inch occupied by grey metal drawers and manila file folders.

  “Shut up and come on.”

  Alex ignored my growing grin and pulled me along the aisles until we got to a bank of tall filing cabinets in the back of the room.

  “No offense, but I pictured something a little more snappy. Maybe a broom closet or a moldy room full of old books.”

  “This room contains archived records of cold case missions that were never completed for one reason or another. Missions that predate the computer, obviously. I had to look up ...” She paused. “Never mind, it’s not important. But while I was in here, I found this.”

  She pulled a key out of her pocket and unlocked the cabinet in front of us. The lock popped out, and she gave the center handle a hard pull. Rather than a single drawer sliding out, the whole cabinet swung away, revealing a hidden doorway in the wall behind it.

  My mouth fell open.

  “Someone left the key in this cabinet that day, and when I pulled on the handle ...” She motioned to the open door.

  When I didn’t move, she waved her hands again. “I brought you all the way down here, and now you’re just going to stand there like an idiot with your mouth hanging open?”

  “Oh, right.” I had been so stunned by the unveiling, I had forgotten to check out the prize. The doorway was small—tiny, in fact. I had to duck my head and turn sideways to get through, but once I did, the room on the other side was nothing short of astonishing.

  Alex’s hidden door was obviously a secret entrance to a warehouse of antiquities that would never have fit through that tiny door. Somewhere there had to be a dump-truck sized entry. Otherwise, whoever had brought all this stuff in here did it in pieces the size of a lunchbox.

  “What is this place?” I whispered, not wanting to disrupt the stillness that filled the space. Dim lighting added a sovereign mood to the room, and the musty odor spoke to the age of its contents.

  Alex guided me out of the way as she squeezed in behind me. “To be honest,” she whispered back, “I have no idea.”

  She walked over to the nearest shelf and pulled down a small vase, revealing the tag tied to its base. The handwritten script read, “Joan of Arc.” It took me a moment to realize Alex was not holding a vase, but rather an urn. An urn containing the ashes of Joan of Arc.

  “Are you kidding me?” My eyes shot up to meet Alex’s. “Didn’t I read somewhere that her ashes were never found or something like that?”

  “The story’s a little more gruesome, considering she was burned at the stake and all, but, yes ... and there’s more.”

  Alex replaced the urn and walked a few more paces. She passed ancient looking scrolls, small statues, an ominous looking hourglass filled with black sand. She stopped at a worn, wooden chalice covered in dust. Next to it sat an ancient looking knife.

  “The cup and knife used at the last supper.”

  I skipped back a few steps. “Whose last supper? Those can’t be the ...”

  Alex nodded. “Yes. They can, and they are.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

  “This place is filled with unbelievable artifacts thought lost in the real world,” she said. “The ring of St. Edward, remnants of the cross, documents that prove fabled events in history. It’s all here. All in this room.”

  Alex grinned and eyed the shelves with an expression of star struck wonder.

  I looked around myself, unable to believe the sheer magnitude of power this room held. If even one of these items got out ...

  “I don’t know how this is a good thing.” I moved closer to her. “The Judas Agency is holding all this stuff for ransom. They’re keeping all of these artifacts from reaching the real world where they can ...”

  “Can what? Prove The Big Guy’s existence? Maybe, but you are looking at this all wrong. If they wanted to keep this out of the hands of the living, all they’d have to do is build a beach party bonfire. Someone has saved this stuff ... is saving it. Keeping it from harm right in the very place that would seek to destroy it the most.”

  My brows furrowed with confusion as I tried to work out her reasoning.

  “Don’t you see? The Agency ... or at least part of it, isn’t all bad. Someone has the capability of recognizing the good. Saving these artifacts from what I can only imagine would be immediate destruction. I don’t know who made this place, but it’s a testament to anyone who tries to do the right thing.”

  I met her eyes and realized what she was trying to tell me. She saw this place as a testament to me. I stared at her in wonder.

  “You never stop surprising me, you know that?” I reached out and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged, and I recognized a hint of a smile. She turned and stood next to me as we took a minute to admire the incredible artifacts around us.

  “Don’t forget.” She nudged me with her arm. “No one can know about this place. I’ve never told another soul about it.”

  I nodded. “You have my word. I’ll never tell anyone. Besides, who would believe me? The Judas Agency is storing the Holy Grail behind a bunch of dusty, old filing cabinets? They would have me committed.”

  Alex laughed.

  We squeezed back out through the tiny door, the horrible lights of the file room singeing my eyes, then Alex put everything back the way it was.

  “Hey, since we’re doing a little show and tell, what do you say we take a little side trip?”

  Alex looked up at me, narrowing her eyes.

  “Side trip to where?”

  “I haven’t checked in on Dan’s soda supplier since setting up that whole magic delivery thing. I’d like to drop by and make sure no one’s standing there with a camera filming the disappearing cola cases.”

  She gave me a suspicious look. “Where’s this supplier? What city?”

  “Um... Denver,” I mumbled.

  “Denver?” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes into tiny, suspicious slits.

  “Yeah, so?” I shrugged.

  “Nice try. You just want to get close to Simeon, so you can check in on him.”

  “Are they both in the same town?” I tapped my chin with my finger and looked up at the sky. “Since you mentioned it, I guess we could drop in and say hello.”

  “No, we cannot.” Alex poked me in the chest. “It’s bad enough you won’t back me on this train project. I don’t need you actively trying to destroy our careers by sticking your nose into his business which, need I remind you, is none of our business.”

  “But what about—”

  “No buts!” She reached up and squeezed my ear lobe and twisted it. “If you even think about getting near Simeon, so help me, I will cut off your ears, one-by-one.”

  “Wow. That was more stabby than usual.” I groaned. “Fine, no surprise visits to our mysterious pal.”

  I eyed her as we made our way out of the file room.

  “What?”

  “You really didn’t know Simeon? Why do I get the
feeling you aren’t telling me the whole truth about that guy?”

  “We haven’t even left, and you’re already starting in on the stupid.”

  I shrugged and raised my hands in question. “I’m just saying it feels like you may be hiding something. You can tell me if you want to. I won’t judge. If it’s judge-worthy, I mean. I wouldn’t do it. The judging thing, I mean.”

  “If I wanted you to know, I would have told you.”

  I brightened at her admission. “So, there is something. Was he your high school crush? A long-time nemesis? You can tell me.”

  Alex put a hand up in front of my face. “If you want to go on your little side trip, I suggest you stop asking me stupid questions.”

  I sighed. “I guess we can put a pin in it for later.”

  “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to pin your lips to your—”

  “Whoa, let’s stop talking about pins. From now on, we use scotch tape.” I waved away the visual Alex was about to paint in my mind. “No more pins and no ear-ectomys. I like my dead body just the way it is.”

  “We’ll see.” She grinned. “Speaking of secrets,” Alex looked over at me and narrowed her eyes. “I’ve been wondering about something.”

  I cringed inwardly, going through a whole menagerie of potential questions.

  “What’s that?” I said, unable to think of a way to avoid the inevitable.

  “How did you find someone to feed sodas into the transporter without giving away what it is? Didn’t they get suspicious as soon as the stock disappeared into thin air?”

  I laughed as we walked out of the file room and shut the door.

  “That’s what I want to show you. You are going to love what I came up with to solve that little problem.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I did it!” I exclaimed to no one in particular. I examined my surroundings. My feet were not drenched in manure; I was not inside some foul dumpster. I had finally stuck an Envisage Splice landing. I had about a tenth of a second to process this victory before a jogger blindsided me like a runaway linebacker, knocking me off my feet.