Episode 44: Fire Alarms and Familiar Faces

Aubrey Lance, S.S. (Supernatural Sleuth) -- Season 1, Episode 44: Fire Alarms & Familiar Faces

We’d been sitting, hot tea in hand, for over an hour—praying, at first, then intermittently talking—when my mom’s cell phone rang.

She grabbed it up. “Uh huh,” she said, nodding as my dad’s muffled voice spoke on the other end. “Thank goodness. Okay.” 

She hung up and turned to me. “He’s out. He’s safe.” 

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Did it go alright?” 

“I’m not sure yet,” my mom said. She turned to Trenchcoat Man. “He said he couldn’t talk long, but he wants us to meet him in the woods at the far end of the Vorcos parking lot. Can you take us?” 

Trenchcoat Man stood. “Of course. Gather in.” 

***

He portaled us into a section of woods, far enough back that we couldn’t be seen, though from our position we could see the massive building with Vorcos in large letters on its front, plus its attached warehouse and parking lot. While the building itself was huge enough to practically have its own zip code, the parking lot was fairly small, with only a handful of cars. 

“I guess they don’t get many customers,” Collin said.

“That means this probably isn’t a public-facing complex,” Trenchcoat Man said. “If I had to guess, I’d say this is a manufacturing and shipping facility. By the looks of it, though, they don’t have many employees either. Odd.” 

“None of those cars are my dad’s,” I said, starting to feel nervous. “Where is he?” 

“I drove around so I wouldn’t look suspicious just sitting in the lot,” a familiar voice said. 

I turned around to find my still-disguised dad tromping toward us from the opposite direction. 

“There you are,” Mom said, rushing over to him. 

“These woods get thick down by the overpass,” he said, pulling a twig from his hair before pulling her into a hug. He held out an arm to me. “Sorry to worry you.” 

I ran to him and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I told him. “What happened?” 

“Just a sec,” he said, turning to Trenchcoat Man. “Mind dispelling this?” He waved at his face and body. 

Trenchcoat Man chuckled. “My pleasure.” He reached a hand inside his jacket and poof, my dad was Dad again. 

I gaped at Trenchcoat Man. “I thought you said dampeners wouldn’t work on that! What if they had done that while he was inside?” 

“Not a dampener,” he said with a smirk, then drew out a small, etched coin hung on a chain. “It’s a runed amulet.” He slid it back into his trench coat. “And before you fret about whether Vorcos may have this same necklace, they don’t. This one was a special favor—and a big risk for the Fae who created it. You won’t find these just floating around like dampeners. It’s against the LeyGuard Treaty for a Fae to bring or create magic-hindering objects Earthside, and a smart Fae never crosses the LeyGuard.”

“Then how do you have one?” Collin asked.  

“My mother, and no, I’m not a Fae—but that’s not a topic for right now,” he said, then turned back to my dad. “Tell us what happened in there. It went well?” 

It was an abrupt topic shift, but I was eager to learn what my dad had experienced in Vorcos, so I filed my other questions away for later.

“It didn’t exactly go as planned,” my father said. “I requested to speak to a manager, but they wouldn’t even let me complete an application. The flyer was outdated. They’ve already hired a new sales rep and weren’t interested in hiring any more. The reception desk and a little employee break room are all that’s in the front area, and I couldn’t see much beyond that and a short hallway, so I tried talking the receptionist into making an exception and scheduling an interview for me, but she refused. I left my business card for them to reach out if something opens up, but that doesn’t seem likely.” 

“Then it was just another dead end?” I asked, disappointed. “All that risk was for nothing?”

“You underestimate the skills I’ve gained in my travels these past couple of years.” He grinned at me, then turned to the others. “The receptionist is jumpy, but her finger never strayed toward the alarm button under her desk, so I’m ninety-nine percent sure she didn’t suspect anything. There’s no foot traffic or customers in and out, and no reception area designed for that. Whatever they do here, it’s not public facing.” 

That aligned with what Trenchcoat Man had said about the parking lot. 

“It’s cold in there and it smells clean—not like chemicals; more like ozone,” my dad continued. “Could be from an air purifier, or possibly a byproduct of whatever they’re manufacturing. If they’ve got machines running, though, they’re either very quiet or the warehouse is soundproofed—I couldn’t hear anything running but the hum of the air-conditioning. There are at least four offices down the main hall. All the doors were closed, so who knows what’s happening in those rooms, but I could hear male voices. The receptionist definitely isn’t in there alone. The fire exit is on the left of the building, near the reception desk. You can see it right there.” He pointed to the left side of the front entrance. “There’s another in the hallway that empties out on that side, though you can’t see it from here.” He pointed to the broad side of the building, facing away from the parking lot at an angle. “There was another big door at the end of the hall, but given its position, I assume it leads to the warehouse behind.” 

“Wow,” I said, impressed. “You’re that good at observation?” 

Dad smiled at me. “I try.” 

“You mentioned the fire exit. Are we expecting another fire?” Trenchcoat Man asked him. 

“If my assumptions are correct,” my dad said. 

“Another fire elemental?” My anxiety spiked. “Or Devin?” I wasn’t sure which would be worse.

“Neither,” Dad said. He turned to Trenchcoat Man with a smirk. “The door to the break area behind the reception desk was open. No people, but there was a fridge and a microwave and a TV dinner sitting out… probably a late lunch she was about to heat up when I came in.”

 “Wait… we’re not setting a fire, are we?” Collin asked. “After what happened at ProScoop, wouldn’t that seem suspicious?” 

“Of course not,” Trenchcoat Man said, then grinned at my father. “We’re going to wait for the receptionist to set one.” 

I stared at him. “What?” 

“There’s another thing I’ve gotten good at as a freelancer,” Dad said, smiling. “Leaving my business card.” He glanced past me, then pointed. “Ah. Right on time.” 

I turned to see a column of smoke pouring out a side window of the building. 

A moment later, the building’s fire alarm sounded in the distance and a woman came running out of the nearest emergency exit, coughing. Three bulky, bodyguard-looking men stormed out of the same emergency door a few seconds after, looking annoyed.

One of them was on the phone. 

“My business card might have been coded to disrupt the stability of her microwave oven,” Dad said with a sly smile. “Don’t worry, though. It won’t spread. It’s mostly just smoke.” 

“What kind of tech do you sell these days, Dad?” I gaped at him. 

He chuckled. “Like I said, gadgets.” 

“Well done, Richard,” Trenchcoat Man said with a smile, then turned to the rest of us.

“All of you stay here.” He clapped, then vanished. 

“Where’s he going?” I asked. 

“To take advantage of the opportunity I created,” Dad told me. “Just wait.”

After a few tense minutes, fire trucks turned down the drive and sped toward the building.

Trenchcoat Man clapped back into existence near us a moment later, smelling like smoke and looking concerned. “We’ve got a problem.” 

“Please tell me they’re not holding hostages in that building Richard just filled with smoke,” my mom said. 

“No hostages,” Trenchcoat Man said. “This is worse.” He pulled out a cell phone and held it out to me. “I think you should be the first to see this.” 

I glanced at Collin and Lockley in alarm. “What is it?” 

“Play the video,” Trenchcoat Man said. 

I took the phone and tapped the play arrow. 

A petite woman wearing a pencil skirt and blouse was standing under an open umbrella in a smoky hallway, gesturing and yelling orders at more bulky bodyguard-type men as the men rushed in and out of rooms through the spraying fire sprinklers, seemingly checking the rooms. Trenchcoat Man had caught the video at an angle where I could only see her back, but she was clearly the one in charge—and very unhappy. From her frame, she was also young, or just very fit—her build was more like an athletic teenager. Her voice also sounded younger than I would’ve expected for a manager… and familiar, though it was hard to make out over the blaring fire alarm. “Who is she?” I said, glancing up at Trenchcoat Man. “She’s obviously the one in charge. Is she the owner’s kid or something?”

He gave me a solemn look. “Keep watching.” 

The young woman headed away from the camera, toward the far exit, then glanced back, looking frustrated, before pushing open the door.

My heart lurched. “No.” I looked up at Trenchcoat Man. “No, that doesn’t make sense.” 

“Afraid so,” he said. “I flashed out just after, so there’s no more to see—but the video is clear.” 

“What is it?” Mom asked. “What happened?” 

I stared up at her—and at Dad and Collin and Lockley and the cheer hawks all watching me in alarm. 

I forced the words out. “It was Chloe.”

***

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