The Dream Case || Dreamnotfound

23

"I don't know where Wilbur is," Jaimie said, shaking her head. "I know that he's here, in this house, but where? I don't know, this place is ginormous."

"Does he have an office?" George asked.

Jaimie thought for a while, chewing on her lip. The three of them were sitting at a table on the ground floor. Jaimie had showed them around the basement and when nothing else useful was found, they went back upstairs. Jaimie had told them everything: starting from when Wilbur told her that Clay was dead to the present.

She hadn't been given her first job or killed anyone yet, much to Clay's relief. Wilbur had still been training her because she couldn't be "mission ready" until she was eighteen. So she stayed in this house, training in the indoor gym and learning everything Wilbur taught her because she couldn't go anywhere.

She didn't want to go anywhere, but now that she knew that her brother was alive, she wanted to leave.

George couldn't blame her. Being trapped in a giant mansion with only a psychopath must be scary and lonely.

"He does have an office," Jaimie said after a moment, "it's on the third floor. He likes being on top of everything― makes him feel powerful."

Clay lifted a hand to his ear and spoke, "Sapnap? Quackity? Any luck?"

Alex responded through the earpieces, "None, we checked the second and third floor top to bottom. There's no sign of him."

"Keep looking," George said, "he's gotta be here somewhere."

Jaimie looked between them, listening to the scraps of their conversation. Clay said, "Zak, send the van back over. We found my sister, she can be picked up."

Jaimie protested, "Clay! Let me stay, I'm more helpful here!"

"No, Jaimie," Clay said sternly, "we'll find Wilbur on our own. I don't want you getting hurt."

"What if you get hurt?"

"I won't," Clay reassured her, putting his hand on hers and rubbing it gently. "Now, I want you to leave. Zak will open the locks for you and you should be out in minutes. The van will pick you up outside the double gates in the front. Zak will open those too. I'm assuming Wilbur has long known that we're here, so you need to leave as fast as possible, got it?"

Jaimie nodded reluctantly and stood up. Clay stood up as well and gave her one last hug before she left. Clay said, "Zak, make sure she gets out of here safely."

"Don't worry, I've got it covered," Zak responded.

Clay sighed in relief and walked towards the windows. George followed him, feeling a little uneasy walking over because nothing was between them and the ocean other than the floor and those beams. The ceiling to floor glass allowed them to see all the way to the horizon, where the sea met the sky.

The sight was beautiful, but George knew they had a mission. Clay looked down, his eyes landing on a tiny boat below them. George smiled, but it faded when a click sounded from behind them.

George turned around, his blood running cold. Clay turned around as well and stiffened, spitting, "Wilbur."

The man himself stood several meters away from them, holding a gun up. His curly brown hair was styled above his forehead and his skin was unmarred after years of having people doing his dirty work for him. He was dressed in plain khakis and a loose fitting, button up shirt.

George reached for his gun, but Wilbur pointed his gun at him, tutting, "I don't think so."

George lifted his hand away and raised both of them, his face cold. Wilbur tilted his head. "It's nice to finally meet you, detective."