The Naughty List (32 page)

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Authors: L.A. Kelley

BOOK: The Naughty List
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“Disconcerted? Well, yes, maybe, a little. Are you keeping something in one of the supplemental storage rooms in Central Receiving?”

Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

“Yes, but they’re only the overflow. We couldn’t move them all at once.” The shiva eyed her askance. “You did say not to attract attention from the customers and the employees.”

“Uh-huh. Right. Not really getting the whole picture here, Sadhri. Could you be more specific? What kind of overflow?”

“Shoplifters. Although, we had a pickpocket in last Tuesday’s group.”

“Uh-huh.” The world went very still. Time stopped. Maybe Rosalie continued to breathe. She wasn’t sure. “Could I see them?”

“Of course.ify">“ursorl The shiva frowned. “Should I have offered before? It’s routine containment and I didn’t want to bother you with something trivial. You’re so busy with other things.

Containment? Damn. There’s that word again.

“Perhaps, just a peek?”

“Whatever you wish.”

Billy looked up from his monitor. “Sadhri, Rosalie has never seen a static. Shall I call Carlos? He’s making rounds.”

The shiva was caught off guard. “Oh. I hadn’t realized she was unfamiliar with the process. Billy, tell him to meet us in Central Receiving.”

Rosalie’s mouth tried to speak, but her brain had a hard time forming words.
Static? What the hell’s a static? Damn it, damn it, damn it. I knew I needed a glossary.
“That…be…so…very…nice,” she stammered out. Billy shot her a quizzical look as she trailed Sadhri out of the office.

Carlos met them in front of the storage unit. Sadhri unlocked the door and flicked on the light. Inside Rosalie saw two life-size statues, a young man and woman, both constructed of the same smooth gray stone. The detail was extraordinary. She could see the stubble on the man’s chin and count every hair on top of the woman’s head. The other common denominator was the genuine look of surprise frozen on each one’s face.

For some reason, the girl with the big purse looked vaguely familiar. She tapped lightly on her head. “Ms. Gilbert?” From somewhere deep inside the stone came the sound of a muffled scream. Rosalie willed herself to remain calm. “S-She’s not dead?”

Relief flooded through Rosalie when Carlos expressed genuine shock. “Of course, not. She’s a shoplifter. First offenses don’t warrant a death sentence.” He glared at the stone figure. “Usually.” Another muffled scream reached Rosalie’s ears.

“Carlos is exceptional,” declared Sadhri. “He has a range of blasts spanning from mild stun to total static. Not all medusas are so well-controlled.”

“Praise from a shiva?” he snickered. “You’re making my heart go all fluttery. Admit it, we work well together.

“Not bad. Forming a cohesive team was easier than I expected.”

“Aw, come on,” he wheedled. “It’s great. You and the hellhounds snag ‘em. I bag ‘em and tag’em.” He flashed a broad grin at Rosalie. “I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Working here is way better than guard duty in a prison.”

Rosalie’s head pounded as the truth sunk in. “This is why I didn’t receive any police reports. You didn’t call them.”

“They were summoned only for the first shoplifter apprehended,” admitted Sadhri. “The officer who took him into custody said the man would make bail and be out on the street by lunch.” She snorted in disgust. “You were quite right. The lax treatment is hardly an effective deterrent against future criminal activity. Your suggestion to revise our approach was quite wise.”

“My suggestion,” she gulped. “You got the idea from me?” Rosalie desperately tried to recall the penalty for kidnapping. Instead, she experienced a fleeting image of herself wearing an orange jumpsuit and serving as a love-monkey for a convict with hairy armpits nicknamed Big Mama.

“You said be creative.”

“Well, yes, but…” Rosalie gestured frantically. “You can’t keep them here forever.”

Sadhri raised an eyebrow. “Of course not. Confinement attracts too much attention. We wait until the store clos thever.es and then move them to our backyard.”

Please tell me I didn’t hear that correctly.
“You keep them at home?”
I’m still. I’m calm. I will not scream.
“How many are there?”

“Right now?” mused Carlos. “Only one other at the moment, although we had as many as seven at a time.”

“The neighbors—”

“—can’t see anything from their yards. We stick them in a corner and cover them with mulch.” He eyed the statues dismissively. “They don’t make a peep. They hear us so we explain The Book and how they’ll be watched from now on. After a few days, I reverse the static. They stagger away with a warning to stay off the Naughty List. They get the message. None have ever come back.” Carlos paused. “David said it would be okay,” he added helpfully.

Her heart stopped. “David said what?”

“To keep them in the backyard. He said not to bother you.”

Must. Kill. E.L.F.
“What if they tell someone?” Rosalie sputtered.

“Struck full power by a medusa is disorienting,” revealed Sadhri. “The condition is easily mistaken for an alcoholic bender or a drug overdose. Of course, any toxicology screens come back negative, but,” she got right up in Ms. Gilbert’s frozen face, “who will believe any story they tell?”

“A static is not a pleasant existence,” remarked Carlos mildly, “frozen in place, bearing the elements, bugs crawling all over you. You want to yell for help, but can’t. You want to run away, but can’t. You want to scratch your ass, but can’t. You get the picture.” He prodded the statue with his toe. “Isn’t that right, chica?” If an unresponsive statue could give off the impression of pure, unadulterated terror, Ms. Gilbert certainly did.

I should protest this, thought Rosalie fiercely. This isn’t procedure. This isn’t how it’s done.
Now you sound like the Baal,
countered a little voice in the back of her head.

“What exactly did Ms. Gilbert steal?” she asked.

“Gina Gilbert,” Sadhri reported in a condemning tone, “slipped a necklace from the jewelry department into her oversize purse, followed by three shirts from Juniors. She aided her male companion in the theft of a jacket by serving as a lookout. After which Gina Gilbert and her male companion went to the coffee shop and pocked a tip left for one of the waitresses. Once they were apprehended we found merchandise from two other stores in her purse with the price tags on and no receipts.”

“David checked her name in The Book,” added Carlos. “She also steals money from her grandmother’s purse when she’s low on funds. Even though,” he glowered at the statue, “her
abuela
is on a fixed income.”

Rosalie studied the girl. What was it about her? Why did Ms. Gilbert look so familiar? Then she noticed the tattoo. Clearly visible under the edge of a push-up bra peeked a butterfly tinted in shades of stony gray.

It’s so wrong to feel this much satisfaction
,
but I do
.

Rosalie whispered brightly into the statue’s ear, “I’ll bet you wish now you never returned that damn blender.”

Chapter Eighteen

David dashed away into Rosalie’s apartment. She sat waiting for him with arms folded. “You are the trailer park,” she growled. “I am the tornado.”

“Whatever I did,” he gulped. “I’m sorry.”

Rosalie backed him into the corner. into tursothree shirNeed I remind you, today is the twenty-second of December. Not the sanest time for retail. Also, I have an enthusiastic cupid dogging me. I didn’t finish the reading on the Pan-Hellenic Interregnum and I’ll flunk her quiz.” She jabbed at his chest. “I don’t need any additional stress in my life.” Rosalie proceeded to describe in colorful detail the discovery of her new security department’s containment policy.

She glared razor-sharp daggers at him. “You knew all along Carlos zapped people. Don’t deny it. You said you kept tabs on all of them in The Book and Carlos also told me he had you look up names.”

Pinned against the wall, David shuffled uneasily. “Well, you see, The Book generally doesn’t approve of unauthorized blasts from a medusa, but since Carlos used his powers against criminals…I warned you they were enthusiastic,” he offered weakly.

“Don’t you think the fact that Billy and the others kidnapped a bunch of lowlifes and stacked them in his backyard is something you should have mentioned?”

“I-I was gonna…soon,” he floundered. “You totally accepted all the other Integral stuff.”

“Just because I’m okay with it,” she said, her voice growing louder with each word, “doesn’t mean you can dump more on me without my permission. You kept things from me that I should have known. I had a boyfriend who used to do the same thing. I’m never going there again.”

Her words hit home. David looked stricken. “I didn’t think… You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m under all this pressure.”

Rosalie stamped her foot. She had a full head of steam now. “Don’t give me that. So am I. My work is less momentous than chasing down demons, but the responsibilities are important to me. I take them seriously. I’m trying to juggle two worlds, David, and you’re not making it easy.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d be mad and send them away. Then they’d be my problem again. The truth is I wanted one less thing to deal with.” His expression gave away his embarrassment at the admission.

Rosalie was hurt. “You should have more faith in me.”

“I know.” He put his arms around her. “I was wrong. I swear, I will never do it again.”

“You were a jerk,” she mumbled in to his shoulder. “I’m staying mad at you a little longer.”

“You should. I am a jerk. Complete and total. Just ask Dominic.”

She looked up at him. “I’m serious, David. If our relationship is to work, you have to accept I won’t give up one world for the other.”

“I don’t want you to,” he answered firmly. “I swear, I want us to live in both. I mean that. Anytime you think I don’t take your life seriously, kick me in the pants. Still angry?”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “A little less, but you’ll make it up to me.”

“Anything.”

“I promised Marty I’d clear out the storeroom by morning, so we move Ms. Gilbert and her boyfriend tonight. Afterwards, you’ll come back here and help me cram for the test.”

“No dinner?”

She grabbed his hand. “Now.”

They dashed-away to Central Receiving. Billy and Sonia waited inside the storeroom. They had already covered the human statues with tarps. The four of them loaded the statics into the back of a van and drove along the darkened streets. Every time the vehicle hit a bump, Rosalie flinche osaman statd.

“Don’t worry,” David assured her after her fourth nervous glance in the back. “Nothing will snap off. They’re as solid as Mt. Everest.”

“Yeah, Carlos is a pro. None of them will so much as a twitch,” Billy said.

They had a little trouble unloading the van as Ms. Gilbert and her boyfriend were tangled up together with a seatbelt. Rosalie held her breath as David and Billy gave a few good yanks before they came free. Despite Billy’s reassuring words, Rosalie did a surreptitious survey of the interior of the van for stray body parts. Happily, both statues remained intact.

Carlos waited for them in the backyard. Rosalie picked out a particularly mucky pile of mulch and they buried Ms. Gilbert and her boyfriend face down. Although nighttime, the medusa handed Rosalie a pair of mirrored sunglasses. “I’m about to free a guy here for a few days. The glasses will protect you against the mystic discharge. Even though I’m pulling the power back in, watching will give you a nasty headache.”

Rosalie slipped on the shades and gasped. “I see everything.” They didn’t affect her vision at all rather displayed every detail of the surroundings in high def.

David, Billy, and Sonia uncovered a young man in jeans and a hoodie. They lifted the statue to his feet and then backed away and averted their eyes. Rosalie watched in fascination as a misty glow formed around Carlos’s head. His braided hair fluttered about the medusa’s shoulders even though she felt no wind. The air filled with static energy, dancing across the skin on Rosalie’s arm, and cultivating shivery goose bumps. Without warning, an energy blast propelled from Carlos’s eyes, impacting the face of the young man. The stony texture of his skin morphed to a normal hue. Color flooded back into the clothing as material became soft and pliable. The once-still static gaped at the medusa in horror and staggered back on wobbly legs.

Billy brushed past the others. He grabbed a handful of hoodie around the neck of the young man. With one arm he hoisted him into the air until dead even with the hellhound’s face. Billy inhaled. “Mason, I have your scent.” His voice dripped out with a raspy brittle edge. “I’ll find you anywhere. Stay on the Nice List or I will hunt you down and drag you to hell. I will be watching.” He opened his fist and dropped the man dismissively at his feet.

Wild-eyed with terror, Mason froze in place. His mouth opened. He let out a high pitched sound somewhere between
Graaak!
and
Eeep!
He shot straight up, stumbled out of the yard, and vanished into the night.

Billy dusted off his hands. “Anyone for dinner? I’m starved.”

Despite Rosalie threats not to feed David until she finished studying, they were cajoled into staying. “Aunt Sadhri is cooking tonight,” Billy said. “She makes a dynamite curry.”

He spoke the truth. Rosalie lavished praise which Sadhri acknowledged with a pleased smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. I haven’t had the opportunity to cook for more than one for a while. Of course,” her eyes glistened, “feeding hellhounds is no challenge. All you need to decide is canned or dry.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “Very funny. Like we’ve never heard that joke before.”

Poof.

Everyone jumped back from the table as Ms. Jankowski appeared. “There you are, Rosalie,” she scolded. “You’re late for your lesson.”

“Damn it, cupid,” snapped Sadhri as she mopped up water from a spilled glass. “Are you trying to give us heart attacks? You could call first.”

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