Page 8

M r. Blackbourne slightly loosened the tie around his neck as he sat in the driver's seat of his BMW, the late afternoon sun beating down on the vehicle despite the air conditioning's valiant efforts. The leather seats, usually a mark of luxury, now felt sticky and constraining as he and Luke reviewed the security footage from the stairwell camera on his laptop.

"There," Luke said, pointing to movement on the screen. A figure darted past, head down, with a backpack flung over his back. The pack appeared empty.

Mr. Blackbourne leaned forward, squinting at the pixelated image. The quality was poor, but the build matched their target. More importantly, the backpack was large enough to carry the computer tower if he had wanted to. He made a mental note of the timing – less than an hour before Luke’s confrontation with the boy.

"Can you enhance it?" Luke asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

"This isn't television, Mr. Taylor," Mr. Blackbourne replied dryly. "The resolution is what it is." He tapped a few keys, saving the relevant segment. He continued his observation. “Keep your eyes out for him. We’re still waiting for word from the others, so we might as well do surveillance.”

His eyes flicked to his phone temporarily, as if he could summon updates at will just by looking at it. No word often meant they were doing their work, busy, so he never interrupted with questions.

Luke fidgeted. Immensely. Twisting in his seat. His hand slipping in and out of his back pocket as if testing his thieving skills on himself. This caused lots of noise as the clothes he wore slipped against the car’s leather.

After a few moments, Mr. Blackbourne pulled a pen from his pocket. Without saying a word, he put it in the cup holder in the console between them.

Luke picked it up, clicked it, took it apart, put it back together, did pen tricks between his fingers. He repeated this, although not always in the same order. However, he did this quieter, as if he knew Mr. Blackbourne meant to feed his inclination to move and was telling him to please do so in a quieter way.

The arrival of a more modern white sedan caught their attention, its presence notable in a lot primarily populated by older vehicles. Luke immediately began cataloging details – make, model, condition – while Mr. Blackbourne focused on the occupants. The driver remained partially obscured, but he could make out feminine features, dark hair pulled back severely.

No. Not pulled back. Short hair. A pixie-style haircut. And she was younger, about the same age as the young man. Was that the ‘sister’ Dr. Green had run into before?

More interesting was the passenger, Wil Winchester, emerging from the vehicle with casualness. The car pulled away before he'd fully cleared the door, as if the driver was eager to avoid lingering. Wil moved quickly to the stairs heading to the second story of the second building of the motel. Through the receiver, he heard the door open for 221B.

Mr. Blackbourne reflexively swallowed, for once caught off guard, the unexpected arrival of the student making things much more complicated.

"I... I think that’s him,” Luke said, already reaching for the door handle.

Mr. Blackbourne raised a hand, stilling him. "No. Let's see where this goes." He reached for the small receiver connected to the listening device he'd placed earlier.

A feminine voice – the sister they'd observed earlier, could be heard through the receiver. "Where's the computer?"

"What computer?" Wil's response came too quickly, too casually.

"Don't play dumb. The one from the office. They're saying it's missing. The one we pieced together because you said you needed it for school."

"Oh, that old thing?" A shuffle of movement. "It was just a matter of time before someone stole it.”

“We should have put it in here,” the girl said.

Wil laughed shortly. “Then Jack would have stolen it to sell. You know that.”

Mr. Blackbourne's jaw tightened. Wil’s dismissive statements to his sister’s concern was troubling. He was willing to lie to her face, and cover it up. Was it Jack... the older man... would he have stolen the computer? Or was he using the office as a way to mask what he was up to?

"You need that computer," the girl’s voice dropped lower, urgent. "The school year just started. How are you supposed to—"

"I'll go to that thrift shop on Henderson," Wil cut her off. "They usually have decent computers. Most of the time the store owner doesn’t know what he has and I can get one for cheap.”

"With what money?"

"I'll figure it out." More shuffling, the sound of a bag being zipped. "Don't wait up. But I’ll be back before Jack gets here."

Mr. Blackbourne glanced at Luke, who was already reaching for his phone, likely to alert the others. "Tell Victor and Gabriel to take North’s Jeep and be ready to go fetch him and Dr. Green," Mr. Blackbourne said softly. "We'll handle this ourselves."

Mr. Blackbourne started the engine, waiting until Wil emerged from the room and headed toward the bus stop before pulling out of their parking spot.

"You think he's actually going to a thrift shop?" Luke asked as they maintained a careful distance behind their target.

Mr. Blackbourne's lips pressed into a thin line. "We’ll find out."

The bus lumbered forward, and they followed, keeping two vehicles between them and their quarry. Mr. Blackbourne's mind raced ahead, calculating possibilities. The missing computer, the white car, Dr. Green’s missing phone, the lies about theft – it all pointed to something larger, something that would need to be handed off to a more specialized team. He pressed his lips together tightly as he considered.

A teen boy did something on a computer that alerted someone in the Academy that he was up to something. As Wil appeared clever with computers, this Academy member who sent the letters did so to avoid getting caught sending messages about him. And this Academy member sent in a team they assumed was similar age and had nothing to do with him.

But why? The letter had been about recruitment. Not about suspicious criminal activity. These teenagers wouldn’t be on their radar at all at this point for recruitment. Down on their luck teenagers in a motel fending for themselves, sure, that would be of interest to the Academy. To help if they could.

But not to recruit.

It was like the person who sent the letter didn’t know how the recruitment process worked at all.

Did whoever sent the letter know they would go to the same school? A chance they could connect and be friends to do observation perhaps?

That was likely why Mr. Blackbourne wasn’t sent a message. So he wouldn’t know anything about it. They were supposed to be observing and getting close, but they had gotten it muddled by leaving observation equipment and keyloggers around, leading Wil Winchester to find them and to become suspicious.

Not to mention the thief sister being a surprise. That was an entirely other issue. The thief had been concerned with money, making the payment for the motel room herself. The older man was at the bar. He could put two and two together about him at least, although he’d try to hold off judgement. Two teens with an older man, possibly a third teen, staying at a motel. The girl in the white sedan who had dropped off Wil... Who was that?

Survival made anyone do things they wouldn’t normally resort to. Doing strange stuff with computers. The older man going to a bar on a weekday evening alone on foot. The two teenagers worried he’d steal their own possessions if they had anything valuable in the room worth selling.

How terrible were their lives if they resorted to such things? Only to live in a motel in a miserable part of town?

Luke’s phone buzzed in his hands. “Victor got back to me on the plate number.” He blinked at the screen. “Not good.”

“What is it?”

“A student at the school.” He sat back, and blew out a breath from between his lips. “Which makes sense. A friend dropping him off after registration today.”

Mr. Blackbourne suddenly pressed his lips together. “If there is a photo associated with her, send it to Dr. Green for confirmation.” He had a feeling.

And it was confirmed several moments later as Luke got in a reply message after. “He says it’s her. The other sister.” Luke blinked and looked up at Mr. Blackbourne. “What other sister? They don’t have the same last name.”

Mr. Blackbourne’s lips tightened immensely. “This is becoming too close.” He waved his hand at Luke. “Don’t show me her name or anything else. And keep this information to yourself. We really need to stop here.”

Luke nodded, trying to consider what he was saying. “Dropping the case?”

“Yes. Our group is at least. There’s something much deeper going on here and we’re far too busy and too close. It would be worse if a school employee started tracking teenagers in his own school.”

“Then... why are we still following him?” Luke asked.

Mr. Blackbourne considered the question carefully. “I want to see where he goes. Just to finish this up.” And then he really needed to figure out who sent the letter, and what this was all about, because none of it made any sense at all.

Mr. Blackbourne refocused on the city bus. It turned into a block of medical buildings, and Mr. Blackbourne's suspicions deepened. No thrift shops in this direction – only hospitals, clinics, and medical offices.

And Wil got off the bus along with a few others, heading toward one of the hospitals.

How odd.