Plagium (Keepers Book 1)

Chapter 23 - In Which (More) Truths Are Revealed

Tracey scrambled to her feet, regaining her balance from Jon's shove. She scanned her surroundings. Mittie had been separated from her, and it appeared as if she and Jon were in a plain, square room. The room resembled the stone hall that she and Mittie had earlier entered. She spun around. Behind her was Jon Starr, blocking the path to the only door out.

Outside of the door could be heard Mittie. "Tracey? Tracey!" she yelled. The door shook as Mittie pulled at the handle. "Jon, let her out!"

"Why did it have to be you, Ms. Higgenbottom?" he said, slowly closing the distance between them, ignoring Mittie's yells. His eyes seemed to burn into Tracey's head.

"B-beg pardon?" Tracey stammered, glancing about the room for any sort of way out, any exit she might've missed.

"When I think back to last night, you were the only one not there to see me at my performance. I was quite beside myself."

Mittie continued shaking at the door.

"There was Charlie as well."

"The boy?" he chuckled, his face barely changing expression. "Was that his name?"

"Was?" Tracey said. She stiffened, the knot in her stomach tightening. "Where is he?"

"How should I know, Ms. Higgenbottom." Jon looked to the ground, his mouth pursing in thought. "Tell me," he said, meeting her gaze once more, "Where were you last night?"

Tracey remained silent. She held his stare, stepping back for each step he took forward.

"I was afraid you weren't going to make this simple for me," he sighed.

The door shook once more.

"Tell me what you did with Charlie, and I'll speak."

"I'm afraid you're not in a position to negotiate with me, Tracey," he laughed, a cruel smile spreading on his face. "And again, I haven't the faintest idea of where you can find him. I didn't kidnap him."

"Who said he was kidnapped?"

Jon paused, leveling a stare at Tracey. "I meant to say: it's not as if I kidnapped him," he evenly said.

Tracey shrunk under his gaze. "A strange slip of the tongue, don't you think?"

He didn't answer. He merely maintained his eye contact with Tracey.

"If it wasn't 'as if you kidnapped Charlie'," Tracey mockingly echoed, "Then who's to say it wasn't someone else? Like, say, it was your chef? I know you're involved some sort of way, Jon."

Jon's smile slowly dropped. "And what brings you to the conclusion that it could have been my chef?" he quietly asked.

"Because...," Tracey trailed off, stopping herself. She glanced to the door, noticing that it had stopped moving.

"Rollo must've finally reached down here," Jon dismissively said, casting a glance behind himself.

"Mittie—."

"Your friend," he interrupted, "is alright. I rather like her," he thoughtfully said, pensively staring into the distance. "You, on the other hand," he said, looking to Tracey, "have too many loose ends, too many secrets...it's messy."

"...what?"

"I hate messy things, Tracey. I'm sure you already know that. Mr. Porter was a mess in my plans. And now you."

Tracey paused.

"You know, don't you?" he continued. "About the performances, of how they were mine? That's where you were last night, to see if I'd show up at Baldgrass Theater."