Influence

Chapter 36

It seemed the elevator would keep going up until it pierced the building's roof. Shay braced herself against the back of the dingy box as it sputtered along its cables. Taking the stairs might have saved her this experience, but it was too late now. She had to get to the top floor and this rickety ride was going to have to take her there. Once she arrived, she'd figure out why she was there, but right now, all she could dwell upon was why her neighbor's long-dead cat was in the elevator with her, wearing a red fedora and matching velvet vest, both of which clashed against his ginger fur.

"Are you here to help me?" She asked the cat.

The cat made no indication he cared that she was speaking to him, but he did twitch an ear back as the elevator dinged. Shay had reached the top floor at last. The door squeaked as it opened. Shay peeked into the darkened room. It appeared to be an office space; a large work area contained rows of woodened desks, all facing away from where she stood on the elevator's threshold. The leaf of a potted palm that had been placed nearby tickled her nose as she leaned her head forward to see if anyone was burning the midnight oil at one of the faraway workstations.

Her cat companion took her close proximity as an opportunity to swipe at the bared skin on her shin.

"Oww!" She scooted away from him and the elevator's exit. "What was that for?"

The cat replied by stretching himself against the wall, his paws aiming for the elevator's close door button.

"Wait!" She said. "I came all this way. This is my floor."

The cat stuck out his claws, taking aim at the red button. She could have stepped out of the elevator then, but she didn't because the cat was in charge. If he wanted her to stay there, she'd probably have to.

He clicked the button and the door screeched itself closed again. Shay jostled back and forth as the box began its descent. "It's going to be like this forever, isn't it?"

The cat ignored her again.

"We'll keep going, but to nowhere."

"You're going where? Wake the fuck up, Shay."

Shay twisted away from the elevator door towards the side of her bed that faced the wall. "The cat won't let me go to my office."

The bed shifted as Dierdre sat down on it. "Wake up and form words that make sense. The police are here to see you."

She twisted again. "What?"

Dierdre's sky blue eyes appeared as though a storm was about to roll in. "The police. They say they want to ask you some questions."

Shay sat up, pushing Dierdre out of her way. "What did you say to them?"

"Um, I said, 'Come in. She's still in bed. I'll go get her.'"

"Just like that, you let them in?"

"What was I supposed to say, that you were indisposed, and did they want to leave a card in case you were inclined to speak with them at a future date?"

"Did they say if they arrested anyone yet?"

"Seriously, Shay, why would they tell me shit?" Dierdre threw a sweatshirt at her. "Put this on, make yourself presentable, and then go talk to them. Honestly, this is why you don't tar and feather people online."

"You think that's what this is about? Internet harassment?"

The storm morphed into a hurricane. "What else would it be about?"

"Nothing." She tied her hair back with a Goldie Golden scrunchy. "I'm sure all of this is nothing."

Five minutes later, and she was no longer so sure. She recognized the detectives from the night of Goldie's murder. A man with a stylish beard and the heavy eyelids of someone fighting exhaustion and a woman whose expression refused to give away the emotion she carried behind it.