Chapter 6-A Unfriendly Meeting

Sylvie stood inside the van, squashed against the wall. Taryn was pressed against her in the tiny space. Sylvie found the entire thing nearly impossible. Tight as it was, she could barely breathe. For the most part, she took shallow breaths and hoped that the ride would be over soon so she could get out and beat the crap out of the bus.

When Chief Brodrick had pulled up with the van, it had seemed large on the outside. However, when they had forced her and Taryn in and closed the door, Sylvie had about gone through the roof. It was too claustrophobic, and it had taken her father and Taryn to calm her before she had done something they all would have regretted.

"We're almost there." Her dad said encouragingly from the front seat. He was dimly visible to Sylvie through the narrow opening that existed between the front of the van and the back. She could only just see his face peering around the corner.

"Thank god." Taryn groaned next to her. She was apparently in the same amount of discomfort as Sylvie.

Sylvie felt the van sway slightly as it turned a corner. Her body lurched in the same direction and about crushed Taryn. The only sound heard was a whoosh of breath. The sooner we are out of here the better, Sylvie thought.

The ride seemed to take forever, although it could only have been thirty minutes before the van stopped. Her father and Chief Brodrick stepped out of the van and closed the door. Sylvie felt herself hyperventilating a little at being trapped, until she felt the back door open. Her entire body nearly fell out of the van. She finally stepped out and onto the same run-down street that they had been on yesterday morning.

Nothing's changed, she realized. She expected that the street where this had happened would bear some mark of what had happened. The street was still dingy, with boarded up shops and shuttered windows. Leaves littered the ground like trash in a landfill as the intermittent wind blew them back and forth. The place felt as if was straight from a Hollywood set.

With their difficulty with stairs and Chief Brodrick not wanting to tamper with any evidence, they simply pointed down the stairs to the boarded up door where the shop had been. The chief pulled his gun from its holster and cautiously eased down the stairs. Sylvie watched him try the lock and, when the door failed to give, jimmy the door. The chief grabbed a tactical flashlight from his belt and switch it on. He disappeared into the shop.

Sylvie strained to hear anything good, like "Ah-ha! I got you!" or even "You are under arrest!" but no sound emerged from the darkened doorway.

"What's taking him so long?" she muttered to Taryn. She desperately wanted the chief to emerge with Roland in tow.

"I don't know." Taryn replied just as quietly. Her face was a picture of nervous hope. She bobbed up and down with her hooves, giving her a prancing look, like a rodeo horse in the chute.

The chief emerged a minute later empty handed, to Sylvie's disappointment. He came up the steps with a puzzled frown on his face.

"What's the matter, chief?" Sylvie asked. "Did you find anything?"

The chief shook his head, sinking Sylvie's spirits. "There's not a single trace that anyone was down there. Are you sure this is the right building?"

"What!" shrieked Sylvie. Surely that was wrong. They had been down there and they had left footprints…er, hoofprints in the dust! Surely those had been left at least!

Taryn obviously mirrored her confusion. "But…but that's not right, chief." She stammered in shock. "We saw the man down there ourselves. We walked all over down there. Surely our footprints are down there!"

Brodrick shook his head. "Sorry girls. The only thing I could see down there was a thick layer of dust over everything. There's no sign that anything's been disturbed at all."

Sylvie couldn't believe it. She had to see for herself. She hurried up to the stairs, and saw how steep they were. Turning around, she forced herself to descend them backwards, something that her instincts did not like. Mentally shoving them aside, she made it down the stairs and through the door. Fortunately, the ruined door offered no bar to her passage, and she was soon in the familiar surroundings of the shop.

The open room was still the same as how they had left it yesterday. There was the supply closet where Taryn had found the wire, the bathroom where Sylvie had nearly gotten stuck, and the ancient counter where the old register still stood forlornly waiting for another customer. She immediately noticed that the plywood changing room she and Taryn had changed in was gone. Also, she found that the thick layer of dust on the floor was undisturbed.

She emerged from the shop fit to be tied. "That ignorant, no-good, low-down…" she carried on for some minutes as she mounted the stairs and stood next to Taryn. It felt really good to vent for a few minutes, calling Roland every name under the sun. She finally ran out of steam and stood there fuming.

"I take it that all the evidence is gone." Taryn finally said. She had been patiently waiting for her to finish her rant.

Sylvie nodded. She clenched and unclenched her fist, aching to punch something, anything. Instead, she reared, pawing the air. Taryn delicately sidestepped while Chief Brodrick and Greg stepped back warily. Landing hard on her feet, she stalked towards the truck. "Guess we'll have to ride back in the van again." she growled.

Her father nodded sympathetically. "Just for a little while. We'll take you back to Taryn's house until we can get things settled." he told her. He then turned towards Chief Brodrick and began issuing orders. "Ben, we're going to need CSU to sweep the place clean. Tell them to take all the dust if they have too. Just find out what exactly is going on here. Then, run up a description of the suspect and post it, or something. We have to find this guy."

Ben nodded. "Yeah. I'll definitely do that then." he said dryly, clearly not liking having his job told to him. "Think I'll also have Ed and the rest of the boys do a more thorough sweep through town in their patrols. I know they've been on the lookout more for the gangs, but I'll retask some of them to bringing this Roland character is." He turned towards them, looking like a though had just occurred to him. "You girls, by any chance, would've gotten a last name from him would you?" he asked.

Sylvie thought back, but couldn't remember hearing him give his last name. By the look on her face, she knew Taryn hadn't either. They shook their heads.

"Well, it was worth a shot." He said dejectedly.

The girls started towards the van. They turned in surprise at the sound of an engine turning onto the street behind them. Who could be coming here? Sylvie thought nervously. There was no place to hide, and no place in which to run either.

Her father clearly had the same thought, because he ran towards the street level door. Kicking it open, he frantically gestured towards them. Sylvie wasted no time, she surged towards the door like a sprinter from the blocks. Taryn was right on her heels as they thundered through the door in a cloud of dust. They skidded to a stop, coughing in the noxious cloud. Sylvie heard the door slam shut behind her, as her father tried to hide them. Now all they could do was wait until the stranger left.

Greg hurriedly retook his position next to the chief as a bright red two-door ford coasted gently to a stop. An elegantly dressed man stepped out from the driver's seat. He was tall, easily topping Greg's own 6' 5" stature by a good two inches. His broad shoulders strained the tastefully tailored black suit that he wore. His face was handsome, with a well-trimmed beard that gave him a refined air. Sharp eyes instantly pinned them with their gaze. Black pits of destiny surrounded by a ring of startling blue that held a calculating look. The genteel smile on his face completed the picture.

"Mr. Mathison, I presume?" he spoke in a cultured voice.

"Yes?" replied Greg cautiously. He wasn't sure who the stranger was, but knew he had to get rid of him quickly.

"My name is Nightshade. Alfred P. Nightshade, to be exact. I believe we had an appointment for this afternoon."

Greg quickly racked his brains. This whole affair with the girls had driven everything else out of his mind. Suddenly, it clicked. "Ah, yes. I remember now. You run a circus and wanted to set up just outside of town for the Halloween weekend, is that correct?"

The gentleman nodded. "You are correct sir. I called on your lovely secretary a little early, and she told me you had left in a bit of a rush. However, she understood that my time is limited and was kind enough to give me your address. I made it there only to find you had left. Your wife wouldn't say where you were going for some reason-" he paused as if to invite Greg to explain, but Greg kept his mouth stubbornly. The man shrugged and continued, "But the young lady next door told me you were going in this direction in the city police van. I took a chance that I could catch you and immediately followed. And now here we are." he concluded. "I hope that your situation has been rectified to your satisfaction?" he inquired.

Greg shook his head. "I'm afraid not Mr. Nightshade. A few thugs have been causing some trouble, and we have been trying to end that. However, it looks like this might have come to a dead end."

Mr. Nightshade raised an eyebrow. "Surely the affairs of thugs are not in your purview, Mr. Mayor. I thought such matters belonged to the police?"

Greg was caught flatfooted. He groped around for something to say while Nightshade stood there waiting. Fortunately, he was saved by Ben, who spoke up. "That's certainly true, Mr. Nightshade. However, I needed to get a warrant for the building, and the Judge is out of town right now. The Mayor said he'd get me a warrant and deliver it himself. We met at his neighbor's house and drove out here. Unfortunately, it looks like the punks have bolted. I am going to have to shut this entire area down for evidence." Ben gestured grandly, taking in the entire block. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience to you." he finished.

Greg breathed a sigh of relief and silently thanked Ben's quick thinking. Getting back on course, he smoothly spoke up. "I'm sure the chief can finish getting things sorted out up here. We can go back to my office and see about getting your circus set up."

Mr. Nightshade's eyes suddenly snapped back down. Greg began to sweat as he realized Nightshade's eyes had been peering at the building where the girls were hiding.

"I'm sure your right." he said, giving no hint that he had seen anything out of the ordinary. "Shall we use my car? I wouldn't want to deprive the chief of his vehicle on such an important case for such a unimportant matter."

Greg tried to find any hint of sarcasm, but couldn't. Shrugging it off mentally as his imagination, he followed Nightshade to his car. The inside was expensively furnished, with leather seats, wood paneling and individually heated seats. He must pay a fortune for this car, Greg thought as he sat down. Nightshade got in the driver's seat and started up the car.

"How long do you plan to stay here, Mr. Nightshade?" asked Greg as the car turned around and headed for the center of town.

"Probably not very long." replied Nightshade mysteriously. "Perhaps a couple of days."

Greg cocked an eye askance at this. Surely they would stay long enough to recoup the losses they would incur? Unless he had something else planned? Greg wanted him to stay for a little while at least. A circus would bring people in from all around, bringing desperately needed revenue for the city.

As Greg worried on how to keep the circus in town, he failed to notice the secret smile playing on Nightshade's lips. And the continual glances back the way they came.

Sylvie stepped out of the doorway as her father and the other man left. She trotted down the stairs, happy to be away from the dust. "I'm glad that's over." she said happily. It had been so hard not to sneeze in that enclosed room.

Taryn walked around her so she could look Sylvie in the face. She had an angry frown on her face that Sylvie knew meant she was in trouble again. Before she could protest, Sylvie demanded angrily, "What on earth possessed you to go near that stupid window? Are you trying to announce to the world that we're centaurs now? Are you trying to get us caught? You could have been seen! We could have been taken! What were you thinking!"

Sylvie held up her hands placatingly. "Easy, girl. I just wanted to see who dad was talking too. That's all. I'm sure we weren't seen."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." came Ben's growl. "I'm pretty sure that guy saw something. He may not know what, but he strikes me as the sort who'll figure it out. Stay away from him, and that circus." he warned. "Something about that man, Mr. Nightshade, just isn't right."

"Yeah right." snorted Sylvie. "Even if he saw me, he wouldn't say anything. I mean come on, is there anyone who is going to believe they saw a half horse, half human girl walking around? Puh-leaze. There is nothing that is going to happen to us." she said confidently.

She turned to Taryn, triumphant in her logic, but Taryn was staring back down the road. "I think Ben is right." she said quietly, not taking her eyes off of the corner where the car had disappeared, as if afraid the man might come back. "I don't think we should go to the party."

Sylvie felt a little angry that her friend was letting her cautious nature win out over their chance to beat Sara Kendall in best costume. "Come on girl," she said, "Whose he going to tell anyways? The chief?"

Taryn reluctantly shrugged. "I guess you're right." She admitted.

"Course I am." Sylvie said bracingly, "Tonight is going to be the best ever. The chief will find the costume owner and make him change us back in a few days, and we get the chance to beat Sara and win at the Halloween party. This is going to be great!"

In the back of her mind however, she worried a little. She didn't tell Taryn, but she was pretty sure that Nightshade had gotten a clear look at her. And he had smiled.