Chapter Twenty-One
But I want to help save the world!" Barbie said plaintively as I helped her into the backseat of the cab, my hand on her head so she didn't hit anything. Her hands were bound with those fuzzy cuffs, and it made her balance chancy. "I can help. Oh God, don't leave me here. It smells like bad tacos!"
My nose wrinkled, and I took her ID tag from around her neck and stuffed it in a back pocket. "Larry gets one of the no-frill blacks, Susan the pumpkin, and Frank the chai, right?"
Jenks hovered over the roof of the cab, impatient. "You're gonna be late for your first day," he warned.
"Yes, but I can help!" she insisted, and I leaned back in to wiggle her shoes off. I hadn't worn the right heels, and the doppelganger charm would only glamour me to look like her. It would be more convincing if we were the same height.
"Trust me," I said as I shifted out of the backseat. "You're helping. Really."
I stood and looked over the empty park, hoping no one was watching from the town houses across the way. Ivy was bent over talking to the cabdriver, giving him a wad of cash and a peek at her cleavage as she told him to take the woman to the hospital-the mental hospital. By law, they had to give everyone who was dropped off an exam, and with the story Barbie had, they'd give her the long version. It was the best I could come up with on such short notice, not very nice, but better than stuffing her in the trunk of her car or leaving her tied up somewhere.
"Good?" I asked the driver, and he met my eyes through the rearview mirror, nodding.
"Wait!" Barbie cried, as I shut the door and she pounded on it with her fuzzy-cuffed wrists. "How will I know?" she shouted, muffled but understandable through the glass. I motioned for the driver to roll the window down, and she leaned toward me, breathless. "How will I know if you save the world?"
The really, really long version. "If we're all still here Saturday, then it worked," I said, then patted the top of the cab to let him know we were done.
"I want to help!" the woman cried as they drove off, and Ivy crossed the pavement to stand beside me. Jenks flitted close with a strand of Barbie's hair, and using it, I primed the doppelganger charm. The ley line up here was barely usable on the best of days, running right through the man-made ponds and under the Twin Lakes Bridge, but now, with the lines unbalanced and screaming in discord, it was awful.
I shuddered as I invoked the charm and dropped it into a pocket. Jenks made a long whistle, and Ivy nodded. I looked at my hands, seeing nothing different, but obviously they could. Even my voice would sound like hers. Illegal. Everything we were doing was illegal, and not for the first time, I wondered how I'd gotten to this place, doing illegal things to help Trent. Help him save the world.
Maybe I should be the one in the cab going to the hospital.
Seeing my mood, Ivy put an arm over my shoulders and turned me back to the cars. "You were nice," Ivy said as we crossed the night-cooled pavement. "Nicer than I'd have been. She'll have an interesting morning and be home for lunch. Don't beat yourself up about it."
"I don't like involving her," I said as we came up to Barbie's car. "And trying to be her is going to get us caught. I can't be a real person."
"Yeah," Jenks said as he checked himself out in the side mirror. "She's too bouncy."
Frowning, I opened the door and sat down, my feet still on the pavement. "Have you ever tried to be someone you're not?" I said as I pulled off my boots, tossing them into the back, and put on Barbie's heels.
"All the time." Ivy wasn't looking at me, her eyes on the Hollows across the river.
"That's not what I meant," I said, then used Barbie's keys to start Barbie's car. I didn't like this. Not at all. But I needed those rings, and this was the only way to get them.
Ivy looked at me through the open window. I could still smell Barbie's perfume, and it made me uncomfortable. "You okay with this, or you want to scrap it right now?"
Jenks hovered behind her, and I put the car in reverse to back out. She knew as well as I there was no choice. Still, I stewed over it all the short drive to the art museum, becoming more and more angry. The only reason we were trying this on such short notice was because I was familiar with the layout. Nick had worked here, and he'd given me a private tour on more than one occasion. The entire basement was a maze of storage and offices, and that's where the showpieces would be until the night before the exhibit opened.
Ivy was behind me in her mom's blue Buick as I pulled into the museum's parking lot. Knowing it would be what Barbie would do, I parked in a spot where no one would scratch the paint, finding a place that would be in the shade come noon. Ivy slowly drove past, headed for a spot closer to the door. She was going in as a patron and had a sketch pad and folding chair. Once I got downstairs, Jenks would give her my ID and she'd come down in the far elevator, clearing our exit en route.
The coffees were cold when I picked up the bag and slid out, and after locking the car, I crouched to put the key on the front wheel where I had promised Barbie I would leave it. Not wanting to ruin my story with cold coffee, I reached for a ley line and warmed them up with a charm, my thoughts firmly on the dark, bitter brew so I didn't warm up, say, the radiator of the car. Ceri had taught me this one, and thoroughly unhappy, I stomped to the main entrance, the unfamiliar heels making me trip on the curb.
I didn't look up as Jenks rejoined me, having ridden to the museum with Ivy. Silent, he worked his way past my hair, now down like Barbie had hers. "She'll be fine," Jenks said as he resettled himself behind the curtain of my hair.
I didn't like that I was telegraphing so much, and I said nothing. Barbie probably wouldn't come to work in black slacks and a sweater that covered her cleavage, but I had an excuse for that, too. Late, I took the stairs at a mincing hurry, fumbling for my ID.
"These heels are killing me," I muttered to Jenks when I got to the top and the security guy cracked open the door for me.
"Relax, Rache. You're sweating."
Yes, I was sweating. I didn't like this. I had abducted a woman and was pretending to be her. It was daylight. And I couldn't shake the feeling that Nick was somewhere watching me.
"Hey! Hi! I'm late!" I said cheerfully, trying to match Barbie's bouncy attitude when I reached the door. "Some witch spilled her coffee all over me and I had to go home and change."
Larry-by his name tag-smiled and held the door as I slid in before him. "You got five minutes," he said, and I hesitated just inside the echoing space. Crap, I'd forgotten which one he was supposed to get.
"You'd better hustle, though," the man said, eyes alight as he took one of the tall, no-nonsense black coffees. "Bull is on the warpath."
My brief relief that he knew which was which died. Bull? I thought, then juggled the remaining coffee to get my ID to show. "Thanks for the heads-up," I said, rolling my eyes because it seemed the right thing to do.
"Thank you." He hoisted the coffee in salute, hiding it behind his security podium when a masculine shout echoed from somewhere deep inside.
I gave him a last smile, then turned away, heart pounding. Barbie worked the information/security stand just across the lobby, but there were two, and I wasn't sure which one to go to. The elevator to the basement was through the Great Hall, but there was a stairway across from Larry's post that only the employees, and their ex-girlfriends, knew about. My heels clacked on the marble floor, and I angled to the woman watching me from the information booth. I was willing to bet that was Susan.
"Barb!" a high, masculine voice called, and I smiled at Susan when our eyes met.
Jenks's wings tickled my neck. "Ah, Barbie?" he prompted, and that first call registered.
Feeling out of control, I spun to the guy in the tweed vest hanging out of the museum gift shop. "Girl, where's my chai!" he called good-naturedly, and I reversed my direction. I was guessing this was Frank.
"Sorry!" I gushed as I hustled to him, my voice raised in the echoing space as Jenks darted off my shoulder, zipping up and into the ductwork to find the main security junction. "I am so ditzy this morning. Some witch at Jun-ah, at Mark's spilled her coffee all over me and I had to run home to change. I haven't been able to think two straight thoughts in a row since!"
Frank took the chai tea, a smile on his face. "Thank God . . . ," he drawled, running an eye up and down my outfit. "That swill they serve in the cafeteria sucks. Honestly, I don't know why you don't wear black more often. It's classic, and with that figure of yours, you can get away with it. Go on now. You'd better make with the busywork. He's on the warpath. Some tight-ass is jerking his chain, and we peons get the horns."
My smile took on an honest warmth as he took a sip, waving me off. "Thanks," I said, guessing they had a good friendship, and he smiled right back and sipped his drink.
"Damn, girl!" he exclaimed dramatically. "How did you get it here so hot!"
Larry was opening the doors to the public as I hustled to the last woman. Her polyester navy-blue suit with a white blouse screamed tour guide, and her eyebrows were high at my black outfit. "Susan," I blurted before she could say anything. "Oh my God! You wouldn't believe the morning I've had." Nervous, I slid behind the counter, praying I was doing this right. "How's the Bull?"
Susan took the pumpkin latte, and I exhaled in relief, glad I got to keep the straight-up black. "He's on fire," she said, making an mmm of appreciation and wiping the foam from her lips. "Something about that new elf exhibit. Thanks, this is good this morning. Black is a new look for you. What's up?"
I shrugged, not wanting to sit down and claim the space until I knew it was mine. "A witch dumped her coffee on me. You like the purse?" I lifted my shoulder bag for her inspection. "It doesn't match, but I was in a hurry." Susan shrugged, and I set my bag on the counter beside my coffee. "Elf exhibit?" I prompted, scanning the security cameras at the ceiling for Jenks's dust. We'd had zero time to plan this, and though I liked working by the seat of my pants, I didn't want everything to come tumbling down because of new security.