Arrival (cont.)

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Glorina

"I'm sorry I was so short with you earlier," Belinda continued conversationally. "You'd be amazed at the number of people who think they can wrangle a free meal out of the fact that they're such good friends with 'Tolliver'. Most of whom he's never even met."

"I understand," I said.

"If you'd come in the other door, you'd be at the stairs—or the other elevator, which would have taken you straight to his office." She paused, then continued. "Don't worry about your meals. They're covered. Though if you grow tired of our food, and want to take a few meals elsewhere, or cook your own, I'll completely understand. Jasin and I have been known to do that from time to time ourselves. Though we usually head over to Sandy Beach. Less people know us there."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I said. I liked the look of her. The picture in the file didn't do her justice, showing only a strong-willed face, not the animation and humor I saw in the woman beside me.

In the better light of the elevator, I saw her glance at my black eye, and then look away again. I read her expression as a cross between "uncertain" and "not wanting to pry.” I pretended I didn't notice her glance, though I had Bruise Story 3 set up should she, or anyone else, inquire, along with the careless little laugh that carried it. But she didn't ask. Probably wasn't even certain she'd seen it, with all the makeup covering it.

She led me down another hallway, this one paneled in pale Larthen wood, and stopped in front of a door labeled 201. It was closed, with an envelope taped to it. Belinda pulled off the envelope, glanced at it, and handed it to me. "Ms. Hoi" it said, in the same flourished handwriting that had signed the letters.

"That's odd," Belinda said. "He didn't mention he had to do anything today. At least he can't have gotten far."

I opened the envelope, and looked at the single sheet of paper in it.

"Ms. Hoi," it said in the same clear, though slightly archaic script.

"I deeply apologize. I had every intention of being here when you arrived this morning, but something has come up that I must attend to immediately. I shall endeavor to be there soon, possibly before you're even there to get the note.

"Feel free to enter and make yourself at home. Call Belinda down at the restaurant if you're hungry; she'll bring you anything you would like on the menu. The number is on the phone.

"I look forward to meeting with you soon.

"Tolliver McLichtensen"

"Uncle Tolly must be upset about having to leave you," Belinda remarked. I glanced back at her, she was standing behind me, reading over my shoulder.

"Do you always do that?" I asked her.

"Sorry," she said, not at all apologetically. "I wanted to make sure he didn't say anything that needed explaining. But Uncle Tolly only gets pompous like that when he's unsure of himself."

"So he normally doesn't talk that way?" And then something she said a couple of times got through to me. "Mr. McLichtensen is your uncle?" There had been no mention of that relationship in the file.

She laughed merrily. "That may be a matter of definitions," she said. "But, no, he's more of a family friend. I've known him since I was an infant."

I thought furiously, though I tried to keep my face impassive. The files had him showing up in town twenty-seven years ago, nothing prior. She would have been well beyond infancy at that point. I filed the thought away. Perhaps she was just speaking carelessly.

"And, no," she continued. "Uncle Tolly doesn't normally talk like that." She looked thoughtful. "He actually has several different ways of talking. It just depends." She opened the door. "You may wait in here. Or I can show you to your room if you prefer. Would you like to have something to eat?"

I was hungry, of course, but I really shouldn't eat until after I'd actually started the assignment. It was bad for discipline. "No, thank you. I'll just wait here." I couldn't ask for a better chance of having access to the office unsupervised. I hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

"Don't let him frighten you," Belinda said. "He really is one of the kindest men. Exasperating at times, but kind."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I told her, shooting her smile 15, exuding confidence. He couldn't possibly be as frightening as some other men I'd met. I stepped in.

I was alone in a room with large floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the back of the building, which I hadn't seen yet. I resisted the urge to go and look out, though I could see the top edge of an embankment wall, with houses behind them. I would doubtlessly see the view many times in the months I was going to stay there.

Instead, I looked around the office. Spare, too clean. I expected the real work went on elsewhere. I frowned at the large desk. Something was off about its proportions. I took a couple steps toward it, and almost stumbled before I realized that the floor wasn't quite level. "Why would . . ." I muttered, then examined the desk and floor carefully. I went and looked at the desk from the guest chairs, and almost laughed. It was set up to make the person sitting behind the desk look just a little smaller. I shook my head. Usually that sort of setup was to make the person behind the desk look more imposing, not less.

Time to get to work. Mr. McLichtensen could be back any moment. I walked over to the shelves behind the desk, and looked at the figures on them. I picked up a few of them. Cheap plastic statues, not what I was expecting from the man I had come to see. Then I noticed the childish drawings and ill-formed clay pots also there.

I frowned.

There had been no mention of children in the files. In fact, there were no romantic entanglements noted at all, either female or male, in all the years they had records on him. As far as they could tell, he hadn't even had any one-night dalliances. I had carefully read the speculations of what, if anything, was wrong with him, but nothing could be determined. That could make my job more difficult.

I attached one of my bugs to the underside of the shelf, in a back corner. It was nearly invisible. It'd pick up sound only, not pictures. I'd rather have one in whatever office he actually worked in, but that would come in time, once I had access. I'd spread the rest of my bugs around in strategic locations in the buildings over the next few days.

I began feeling a bit queasy, and my stomach rumbled. Perhaps I should go down to the restaurant and eat something.

No. That was bad for discipline. I had to actually start the job before I was allowed to eat. I began breathing slowly. Once Mr. McLichtensen actually arrived, then I would see what I would do.

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