"You don't think I'm evil, do you?" Claire asked, sitting at Rachel's kitchen table the morning after they'd buried yet another person in the wall of the abandoned apartment complex. Rachel, stood at the counter, was stirring her coffee with a spoon and exhaled, then shook her head.
"No, Claire, I don't think you're evil," she replied, "I think you're sick, and that that illness makes you do evil things. And that isn't the case for every sick person, but it's the case in this situation. But the nice thing about illness is that it doesn't define you, so no, you're not evil. But we have to stop doing this. It's going to get bad if we don't, and someone will catch you." Claire nodded, reaching onto the table for a poppyseed muffin and, after unwrapped the bottom, taking a big bite out of it. Rachel seated herself at the table as well, sipping her coffee as Claire chewed. "...what if I killed someone without being off my medication? Would that make me evil?" Claire asked. "Depends on the situation, honestly," Rachel said, shrugging, "there's self defense, other morality based rationalizations, what have you. Just depends. But let's hope you never have to find out." Claire nodded again, chewing silently. If only she knew what the future held. *** "Hey," Benny said, approaching Molly on the couch, covered in a blanket, "you okay?" "I feel...dumb," she said softly, "everyone has left, obviously it's okay to, maybe we overreacted. I don't know. I just feel dumb. And I also feel dumb for being duped so easily, repeatedly. First by the guy I dated in high school, then by Allie, and then by this girl. Why do people like to lie to me?" Benny shrugged as he seated himself on the arm of the couch, opening a bag of cookies and reaching in, handing one to Molly before biting into one himself. "I don't think it's a personal thing," he said, half chewing, "I think...people can often tell what other people are like, you know, what kind of person they are? They meet you, they see you're sweet and understanding and compassionate. They wanna take advantage of that, and sadly those traits more often than not entice assholes, not others who share them. But that isn't your fault, nor should you be ashamed of being that way." Molly blushed as she bit into the cookie as well, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment. Finally the apartment door opened, and Olivia entered. She waved at Benny, who got up and exited into the bathroom while Olivia pulled her jacket off and, still in her blackjack uniform, seated herself on the couch beside Molly. Molly handed her the bag of cookies, which she happily took and reached into. "You doing okay?" Olivia asked, and Molly chuckled. "Benny just asked me that," she replied, "but I don't know, I guess? It's really hard to say." Olivia set the bag of cookies down on the other side of herself, then reached out and took one of Molly's hands, squeezing gently. Molly looked over, blushing. "...to pull you in the way they did is despicable, but they do clearly care," Olivia said, "and that...that's something you can't shake a fist at. It's so hard to find people in this world who genuinely want the best for you. Even rarer if they aren't direct family. I know not all families are great, but even still. But you're clearly cared about, by them, and by us, okay? You can stay here as long as you want, it's okay, I would't blame you for being too scared to go home." Molly nodded, on the verge of tears. Olivia leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and that did it. Molly finally broke, and laid her head against Olivia's chest, sobbing. Olivia simply held her, stroking her hair as Benny re-emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands on his pants. He smiled at the sight, as Olivia nodded to him, smiling back. They would be okay, and Molly would be okay, because they had her now. *** Zoe was sitting at the bar in the casino, sipping on a soda, staring at the wood grain finish on the bartop when she heard a stool pull out beside her. She glanced over and saw Effie, who smiled happily at her. "Where you been?" Effie asked, "I've been trying to reach you for hours." "...I had an emergency...well, Molly had an emergency, so Allie and I went to help her," Zoe said softly, "she's...she's fine though, like, no need to worry. Everything's okay now." "Well I was gonna take you to dinner tonight, but seeing as it's already almost 7, maybe we-" "I'd like that, if we could still go," Zoe said, catching Effie by surprise. "Yeah, sure, whatever you wanna do," Effie replied, smiling happily, pulling Zoe's hand to her lips and kissing it, "whatever you want, okay?" Whatever Zoe wanted? She wanted a night of normalcy. Of comfort. Of stability. She wanted things she knew she'd never have as long as she was attached to Allie Meers. Oh sure, at first working for your heroes seems like a dream come true, but it's anything but. She finally understood the old phrase 'never meet your heroes', because since meeting Allie, all her life had done was become worse. Sure, she was successful beyond her wildest dreams, but was success worth everything else that had come with it? And then it hit her. Zoe turned and looked at Effie, who was piling snack mix from the bowl on the bartop into her mouth, and Zoe smiled. The success sure wasn't, but Effie was. And if she hadn't become involved with Allie, the chances of meeting Effie, and thus being her open honest self, likely would've never happened. Maybe meeting your heroes wasn't so bad after all. *** Allie was sitting in a car outside the location Claire had given her, in the backseat while Agents Siskel and Tropper were in the front. They'd been parked here for a good fifteen minutes, nobody saying a damn thing. Finally, Allie reached out, fingers clutching the doorhandle, when she felt Agent Siskel reaching back, grabbing at her knee. Allie stopped and looked up at her. "You're gonna need protection," she said, "I'm going to give you a gun, okay? You don't have to use it, but just know that you can. And we'll be right outside." "I...I don't...I don't know that I've ever used a gun," Allie muttered, surprised. "It's not difficult, it's already loaded, it's ready to go, all you have to do is aim and pull the trigger," Agent Siskel said as she pulled a small black handgun from the bag in front of her and handed it back to Allie, who took it hesitantly; Siskel, brushing her hair from her eyes, then added, "Allie, it's just a last resort, okay? We don't know what Claire might do. I don't think she'd hurt you, but you never know. It's better to be safe than sorry." Allie nodded, taking the gun and putting it in the interior pocket of her coat. She then climbed out of the car and looked up at the building, where she spotted someone looking down at her, before they quickly pulled back in through the window. Allie exhaled, and then headed up the stairs and into the building through the front doors. Once inside, she could see this wasn't a building anyone used. This was clearly picked because it was abandoned. Allie balled her hands into fists and headed up to the room Claire had told her to go to. Step by step her heart quickened, terrified of what it was she might find at the top. She finally reached the hallway, the door on the right, room 317. Allie stopped and stared at the numbers on the plaque. Whatever lay behind this door...whatever she walked into...there was no coming back from it. This was it. This was a turning point. Allie exhaled, reached into her pocket, her hand gripped around the gun, and then she turned the doorknob. Once inside, she found a completely empty apartment. She furrowed her brow in confusion, before walking further inside. She hadn't imagined it. She'd seen someone in here. She knew she had. She headed to the bathroom. Nobody. The bedroom. Nobody. The kitchen. Nobody. What was going on? Finally she was in the guest bedroom, and as she turned back to re-enter the living room, she stopped. Standing there in the doorway was Rachel St. Claire. "Jesus!" Allie shouted, "what the fuck?! Why are you-" "Shhh," Rachel said, putting a finger to her lips, "you need to go here." Rachel walked forward slowly and slipped a piece of paper into Allie's hands which had new directions to a building a few blocks away. Allie looked at it, confused, and suddenly realized this room was a decoy. Claire probably knew Allie had been picked up, and knew that she'd have the agents with her, so she gave a decoy room so that the agents wouldn't stop whatever it was they had to do. Allie looked at Rachel, her eyes squinting, trying not to cry. "I'm scared," she whispered, and Rachel nodded, almost in tears too. "You should be," she replied, which sent a chill down Allie's spine. *** Molly was asleep on the couch, her head in Olivia's lap, Benny sitting on Olivia's other side. Molly hadn't been asleep in almost three days, and she couldn't stay up any longer, even when driven by fear. Benny and Olivia were watching TV as Molly snored lightly. Benny glanced down at her, then up to Olivia, and they laughed quietly at one another while Olivia continued to lose her fingers in Molly's hair. "What do we do here?" Benny asked. "I think we do exactly what we're doing," Olivia replied, shrugging, "I mean, why complicate things when they're so obviously simple. If you're asking what you're asking for the reasons I think you are." "I definitely am," Benny said, reaching over and holding Olivia's free hand. Benny had absolutely no qualms about bringing a third into this relationship, especially if that third was Molly Hatchet. Since the moment she'd come into his and Olivia's life, they'd both instantly taken a liking to her, more than that of platonic too. They'd been in an open relationship for years, but they'd never met someone who properly fit their criteria of someone to add as a third until Molly. Olivia lost her fingers in Molly's hair while Benny turned his attention back to the television. Perhaps, he thought, even if things went further down the drain in terms of Allie's plan, if nothing else good came of this entire situation, one thing had and that one thing had been meeting Molly. And for Molly? Despite being scared out of her mind, and not having slept in days, she actually felt safe enough to do just that here, in their presence. Because she felt like no matter what, if anything did happen, Benny and Olivia would protect her. Sometimes, it turns out, you meet the right people by knowing the wrong people. *** Zoe stared at the appetizers in front of her, while Effie leaned back in her chair, sipping from her wine glass, watching Zoe closely. Zoe reached out and picked up one of the deviled eggs from the plate and bit into it slowly, almost as if she was uncertain whether it was poisoned or not. Effie could tell something was wrong, but she wasn't exactly sure how to broach the issue. Finally, after a long wait, Effie sighed, set her drink back down on the table and leaned forward. "What's going on with you, man?" she asked, causing Zoe to look up at her, surprised; Effie continued, "you haven't been okay in months. I know Allie is making things difficult, but...fuck, Zoe, if she's really making things that hard, maybe it's time to consider the alternative." "I don't want the alternative," Zoe mumbled. "Well, you're not happy now, so what else is there? Listen, you're talented enough on your own, okay? I know that, your sister knows that, even Allie knows that. You could, at this point, strike out to make a name for yourself and leave Allie in the dust, and I know that sucks to hear because she's your friend and your partner but...but I don't think I've seen you genuinely happy in over half a year." "It isn't just Allie," Zoe said quietly, taking another small bite from a deviled egg, "it's everything...it's...people might believe in me, but I'm not sure that I do, and...and I can't abandon her. I can't do what her cousin did." "You are not responsible for a grown ass womans career, and especially not for her sense of self, okay?" Effie asked, reaching out and taking Zoe's free hand in her own, rubbing the back of it with her thumb gently, adding, "Zoe, you're your own person. You're allowed to be an individual. I will support you, alright? Even if you wind up not wanting to do magic, or, by some act of some kind of god being bad at it solo, I'll support you then too, okay? Because I love you, and I wanna help you be happy and satisfied, and right now you're not either." Zoe nodded gently. Effie wasn't wrong. But Zoe felt such shame attached to wanting to leave Allie behind. After all, all of this was, more or less, Zoe's fault. If she hadn't been assigned as her partner in the first place, none of this would've ever happened. She looked up and her eyes sparkled at the sight of Effie's face, lit by table candlelight, and she smiled for the first time in days. "I love you," Zoe whispered, making Effie blush. "I love you too," she replied, pulling her hand up to her lips and kissing it gently. Seemed like everywhere you looked, everyone was finding peace. Everyone except Allie Meers. *** Allie stood in front of the door, once again faced with the realization that whatever was on the other side of it, she wasn't sure she wanted to face. But she had to. She had to. She had no other choice. Rachel would keep the agents at bay, and they had no idea where she currently was. Allie swallowed, blinked a few times, then opened the door to the empty apartment loft. Dark, drafty, and sitting in the middle of the room was a chair with a woman tied to it. Allie approached, just as Claire came out from the nearby bathroom, washing her hands. The two women stopped and Claire smiled and waved at Allie. "I've got a bit of a problem with germs," Claire said, as she wiped her hands on her pants. "And yet you kill people," Allie said, "the most digusting, germ ridden act one could perform." "Please, sex is worse. That level of intimacy? Disgusting. No form of protection could prevent you from getting too familiar with your partners personal body fluids," Claire said, causing Allie to make a face. Claire sat on a stool in front of the chair, and Allie slowly, cautiously, came around beside her, looking at the woman she now knew as Kristin. "This is her?" Allie asked, and Claire nodded. "This is her," she replied, "in all her backstabbing glory. Funny what people will do to those they claim to love, isn't it? Not to mention manipulative. She chose the easiest one of us to get involved with, because she knew how easy Molly was to trick. Which begs the question...how much does her employer actually know about this? Does he know that Tony is trying to build a vault? Or did they just pick the most accessible one because of accessibility sake?" "Let's ask her," Allie said, approaching Kristin and ripping the tape off her mouth. Her eyes were red, dark circles underneath, and her hair an absolute mess. She looked like she'd been drugged or crying; Allie then backed away and, one hand in her coat pocket gripping the handle of the pistol, she asked, "we need some answers from you, okay?" "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, I already told her that," Kristin said, nodding towards Claire, who just scoffed and rolled her eyes, causing Allie to glance at her. Claire then leaned in towards Allie, her voice a dull whisper. "She can tell us whatever we want to know but that's not going to stop her from going back to her boss and telling him everything that just happened here. For all we know, all her boss is after is Tony, and his money. But now we're involved. Now she's got faces. That paints a target on our backs, Meers. Be very careful with how you approach this, because at this point, I don't think she can be trusted," Claire said quietly, Allie nodding in agreement. "Why did you want Molly's blueprints?" Allie asked, turning back to face Kristin now. "Because my boss told me that he had a sneaking suspicion that Tony was cutting back his funds," she replied, "and Tony's his biggest benefactor, so that's not good for business. Whatever else is going on here, I have no fucking idea. My boss thinks Tony had his daughter stalked by the police, causing her so much distress she eventually took her own life, but not before turning info on him to those who'd been asking. He's...not very happy with the current situation." "I would imagine not," Allie said, grabbing Claire by the shoulder and pulling her off the stool and a little ways away; she cleared her throat and said, "she knows absolutely nothing. That being said...you aren't wrong. She could just as easily go back to him, tell him who else is involved, which if he then shares that information with Tony, he'll know something is up and I can't have him getting suspicious. I need him to trust me for the time being." "Then do what has to be done," Claire remarked, her eyes narrowing, "do what you know you have to in order to have security." Allie looked over her shoulder at Kristin, who appeared absolutely terrified, and she sighed. "I don't think I can," Allie said. "You're capable of greater things than you can imagine," Claire replied, putting her hands on Allie's shoulders, holding her steady as she said, "you're the goddamned Astounding Allie, after all. Look at how far you've come. When you set your mind to something, you can accomplish that. That's where we're alike." That threw Allie off. She looked up into Claire's eyes and thought about what Agent Siskel had said to her. She didn't want to be alike to someone like Claire. She wasn't a murderer. She wasn't a cult leader. She wasn't anything like Claire. Except...she was. She just couldn't accept it, and denial was easier. Allie tightened her grip on the handle of the pistol, Claire completely unaware it was even in her jacket, and Allie felt her index finger come around the front of the trigger as she slowly raised it up so the barrel aligned with Claire's gut. It would be so easy. It would be so quick. It would incapacitate her, catch her completely off guard...but...but Claire had helped her so much. She could probably help her more. This woman, however, this Kristin or whatever her name actually was...she was a loose end. A thread that if tugged at even ever so gently would unspool and entire web of lies that would all lead back to Allie. "Take care of this Allie," Claire said, "be the magician that you are, and make her disappear." Allie gritted her teeth as Claire walked back towards the chair that held Kristin. Allie couldn't take it anymore. Everything that had happened in the past year, everything that had come as a direct result of killing Sunny...it had all led to this, and this pressure was eating her away inside. She could do the right thing. She could kill Claire Driscoll, kill a serial killer, and be hailed a hero. She could go with Kristin to her boss, to the governor, and take him down with the agents from the inside. She could make this take an entirely different turn. All she had to do was pull the trigger. Gun Claire down in the back right now. Allie felt her eyes well up with tears, and she pulled the pistol slowly from her coat pocket, then aimed. Two different women, two vastly different paths, all she had to do was make a choice. "Hey," Allie said. And then she fired.
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Allie Meers had believed that these agents were after her for something very specific, so to be told it was something entirely different? That kind of messed with her. She clicked her nails nervously on the table as Agent Tropper went to refill all of their coffee mugs, leaving just Allie and Agent Siskel alone in the room. Allie finally looked back up and caught Siskel's eyes, who just smiled politely at her.
"I don't get it," Allie said, "I...I really don't. I killed someone. I stole their corpse, fed it to a tiger and then accidentally nearly fatally injured another person as a result of that decision. And you're telling me all of that is...is not what I'm being held for?" "I won't lie, at first it was," Siskel said, "when we first started looking into it, we thought we were just looking at a simple murder. But we met with Sunny's sister and she...well, let's just say she was less pleased with her fathers actions than we'd assumed she would be. As it turns out, she's the one he put in charge of all the financial aspects of his time in office, which includes paper trails leading directly back to Tony and other casino owners. All of them have been funding his campaign, in exchange for tax dodges on their property, their earnings, etc. Once we realized what we actually had, the death of Sunny became less of a crime and more of an open invitation to uncover a bigger crime. That isn't to say you wouldn't be held responsible for your actions, but we are willing to cut a deal in exchange for your assistance in taking Tony and, in effect, the governor down as well." "This is...insane," Allie said as Tropper handed her back her mug. "Tell me about it," he mumbled, seating himself once again and taking a long drink. "I just...I don't understand. Why are you assuming I'd be able to help?" Allie asked, cupping her mug between her hands and leaning back in her chair. "Because we know of your relationship with Tony. We know how close the two of you are. It's no secret. It's a pretty open industry acknowledgement. This is why you're the perfect candidate to help, because he trusts you, and it'd be easy for you to gain access to things others wouldn't be able to," Tropper said. "Basically, Allie, in exchange for the expunging of your crimes, you'll help us get to the bottom of this massive financial crime," Siskel said, "and please say yes, because we went through absolute hell to get you here. I was starting to think that we'd just never meet and get the chance to talk. Hence why we, well, kidnapped you." Allie nodded, taking a long sip and thinking. Tony was a tax cheat? Unsurprising. He seemed the type. But to help fund the governors campaign elections and other goals? That part she had trouble believing. Tony didn't seem like a criminal really. Not this kind of criminal anyway. And could she really betray that trust that he'd instilled in her? "He's been kind of like a father to me," Allie whispered, looking into her mug, "he...he saw my potential, he gave me places to stay while I got successful, he gave me my own show at his casino, then moved me to his newer casino, he gave me an assistant, helped me get sober - in a manner of speaking - and so much more. I...I don't know if I could...I mean, I'd feel terrible if I had a hand in hurting him or his family. He IS family. Far more than my family ever was." Siskel nodded, sighing. She knew Allie and Tony had a close relationship, but she also knew Allie was desperate to be free of all this drama. "...I don't really care what happens to me," Allie said, "but what I DO want is total exonoration of everyone else involved, specifically Molly Hatchet and Zoe Fitch. They don't deserve to be held accountable for my actions. If you want to go easy on me too, that'd be nice, but I'd gladly take jail time in order for them to walk free." Siskel and Tropper exchanged a look, and then, after looking back at Allie, both nodded. "Fine," Siskel said, "your friends won't be charged with anything. We'll still cut you a break, but you're going to have to take some kind of sentence, despite your helping us. That sounds fair." "Fine then," Allie said, sitting up straight now, feeling more confident, "especially Molly, because unlike Zoe, she was completely unaware of what was going on until semi recently. She was just an architect Tony hired to help build the new casino and the vault, so she-" "Wait wait, vault?" Tropper asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah," Allie said, "he's having her build a vault underneath the second casino that only he can access. But we're building a backdoor entrance into it. I...I figured you guys knew that." "...why would he need a vault?" Siskel asked, confused. "Your guess is as good as mine, lady," Allie remarked, "but honestly, my best guess if your info is good, he probably is trying to hide his assets in it. Can't keep it in the bank. That's too obvious. Too easy to monitor. Otherwise I have no idea. I'm surprised you guys didn't know that already." Siskel sighed and ran her hands down over her face, feeling annoyed. After all this time, all this effort, there was still somehow information she wasn't privvy to, and that bothered her. Made her feel like she wasn't as good an agent as she had thought she was. Tropper cleared his throat and leaned forward. "You say you're building a backdoor?" he asked. "Yes," Allie said, "but it's tricky. It needs to not be noticeable by Tony or anyone else, yet accessible by those who know how to get to it. Molly's been spending weeks on this at this point, and we still haven't really cracked it. We started looking at a street magician named Jackson Strange for inspiration because of his plastic box trick." "Plastic box trick?" Tropper asked. "He's an illusionist," Siskel said, surprising both Tropper and Allie with her knowledge of this as she added, "he does his stuff generally in public areas, hence the street magician title, and he has this thing where he uses a seemingly clear plastic box that he encases himself in, suspended from the air by a crane, and then escapes from. He's doing it soon." "Exactly," Allie said, pointing at her, "and we were going to see him do it, try and figure out how he gets out of something that everyone can see through. Because that's the kind of trickery we need to access this vault. Something that can't really be seen by the human eye, or those at least mostly unaware." Siskel nodded. Allie was...much smarter than she'd given her credit for initially, and she felt bad about that. For so long, she just figured those around her were so adept at helping her or that she was so stupidly lucky that that was how she'd managed to always stay ahead of them, but now she was seeing just how intelligent Allie Meers actually was. "So...what's the plan then?" Allie asked. "Well," Tropper started, "now that we have information about this vault, that helps tremendously. We could easily help you figure out what you need to in order to get in and out without being noticed or suspected." "I just feel so guilty," Allie said, looking at her hands on the table, "Tony's been so good to me for so long, and I...I just feel like I'm a traitor." "You're not a traitor," Siskel said, "hell, the fact that you put your friends freedom ahead of your own proves that. And honestly, it isn't even Tony we really want. It's just that he's the biggest benefactor to the governor, and if anyone's going to get cracks to appear between them and get us access to an arrest, it's him. That's all it comes down to. That isn't to say Tony, and the others, won't face charges, but as with you, he'll likely face lesser charges if he cooperates once involved." Allie nodded, understanding. She knew this was the way out. She knew that this was the only thing that would work, would be cooperating with these agents. Still...Tony had discovered her. Tony had seen her worth, value and talent. Tony had made her headliner at not one, but two different casinos now. Tony had been more of a parent than her actual parents wound up being, and here she was, about to turn tail and betray him? How could she live with that guilt. It would not only effectively end her career, but her relationship with Tony as well, because he'd know who had turned him in. He'd know it was Allie. Who else could it have been? Allie sighed and ran her hands down her face. "...I know this sounds cliche, but it really was sort of an accident," she whispered, "he was going to try and get my partner on what he was selling, and...and having been through that myself, having witnessed firsthand what it does to a person, even in spite of knowing Zoe's deterance to such vices...I don't know, I just...I felt protective. I couldn't let her fall the way I had. I had to do something. I had no way of knowing he was the governors son. We didn't know shit about eachother outside of what we did for work." "And Claire?" Agent Siskel asked, making Allie shake her head and exhale. "I don't even know where to start with that," she mumbled, "I guess I came to her for advice, cause...cause she'd gotten away with murder for so long. But the more time I spent around her, the more I became acutely aware of how similar we actually are, and that scared the hell out of me, honestly. She's...terrifying." "Claire had it arranged so her mortician friend took the body didn't she?" Agent Tropper asked, and Allie nodded; he jotted something down on the legal pad in front of him before picking up his coffee and taking a sip, then adding, "we already pretty much knew, but it's nice to have confirmation." "I don't think her friend is happy," Allie said, surprising them as she continued, "I think she's scared of her too, but she's so attached that she doesn't know how to walk away. And is that what I am to Zoe? Am I Claire? That's an awful thought. I don't want to control her, I wanted to help her." Agent Siskel was moved by this surprising display of empathy, and smiled. "You're not Claire, Allie, trust me," she said, "as someone who's spent an incredibly lengthy amount of time interacting with her, you two are alike, but you're not the same, and similarities don't automatically equal twins. The mere fact that you say you don't want to control Zoe, that alone proves my point. Claire...she doesn't care about who she controls. She doesn't care about what she does, at least not to others. We all serve a means to an end for her. You, Allie, are not Claire, I promise." Allie nodded, feeling a little better. She wiped her face on her jacket sleeve and exhaled again. "I just can't believe I let it get this bad," she said quietly, "it was never supposed to get this bad. But at the time Sunny died, I was...I was a joke. I was washed up. Addicted to painkillers, a complete alcoholic. The public...they would've crucified me, drug dealer or not, because my standing with them had already sunken to the all time low. So...it would've been an instant trial by fire. There would've been absolutely no explaining, no rationalizing, they would've been a mob out for blood, and only because the blood was someone they parasocially knew." Agent Tropper nodded, tapping his pen on the table. "That's part of the problem of being in the public eye, yeah, you're judged six ways to Sunday, even if you've done nothing, or even if your crimes aren't that terrible," he said, "Allie, help us help you. We can fix this thing together, okay?" "Fix it together? How? By kidnapping me? By having a woman befriend Molly for weeks, only to steal all her blueprints for the vault? You already have what you want, why do you-" "You keep...you keep mentioning this, this, uh...act of theft, these blueprints. We haven't recieved any blueprints," Agent Siskel said, "why...why do you keep bringing this up?" An uncomfortable silence filled the room, as a dawning horror came over Allie. "You...you guys...doesn't she work for you?" Allie asked, "The girl who stole them?" Agent Siskel and Agent Tropper exchanged a look and both shook their heads and shrugged. "...we never hired anyone, no," Agent Siskel said. "...then who the fuck does she work for?" Allie whispered, terrified. *** Kristin parked her car in the parking garage and sighed. She picked up the folders from the passenger seat, opened the drivers side door and climbed out of the car. She shut the door, locked it, and started walking across the garage, her flat heels clacking on the cement beneath her as she strolled through the empty abyss of concrete. She knew she was a little early, and that they would be tied up with their current meeting, but they would meet her soon enough. As she passed by another car, she saw a woman standing there in a sweater and jeans, trying to light a cigarette. She tossed her red hair from her face and sighed, exasperated. Kristin stopped and looked at her, smirking. "You need some help?" Kristin asked, "I always keep a pack of matches on me." "That would be fantastic, thank you," the woman said as Kristin pulled out the matches, lit one and then lit up the cigarette; the woman took a long drag, then smiled, "thanks Kristin." Kristin stared at her, her eyes widening, until she felt something sharp in her neck, and she stumbled back, as a hand wrapped around her from behind, covering her mouth to keep her from screaming. Claire continued smoking as Rachel waited for the seditive to take full effect, and once Kristin's body went limp, they laid her on the ground. Claire bent down and picked up the files, shifting through them haphazardly before rolling her eyes. Rachel looked from Kristin up to Claire, and Claire nodded. She bent down, grabbed Kristin's ankles while Rachel took her by the underarms and they carried her to a nearby car. "Christ," Claire said under her breath, "you want something cleaned up, you have to do it yourself." *** "You think she works for the governor?" Allie asked, slack jawed, "I...I mean...he would...how would he even..." "We don't know, but that's the only plausible answer, and if that's the case, and she's already given him those blueprints and he knows about the vault, then we've already failed," Agent Tropper said, scratching the back of his head, looking annoyed. "Not necessarily," Agent Siskel said, "if we could intercept her somehow before she does, then we might be able to salvage it." Allie's phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket, looking at the number and not recognizing it. She looked at the agents, who nodded, giving her the allowance to answer, so she did. She raised the phone to her ear and spoke. "Hello?" she asked, "...Claire?...okay. Okay I'll be there as soon as I can." Allie hung up, slid the phone back into her coat pocket and looked at the agents. "I have to go you guys," she said, "...Claire found her. She's got her." "Allie," Agent Siskel said, "Whatever Claire tries to convince you of, remember what she did, remember who she is. Yes, this woman works for the governor, and yes we can't let him get access to these blueprints, but...just don't let her trick you into becoming like her. We'll give you a ride if she gave you an address." Allie stood up, and together the three of them headed out of the office and towards the car outside. Allie had no way of knowing it just then, but in just under an hour, she would walked into a building with Claire and Kristin... ...and only two of them would walk out. Allie Meers spent more time in the nurses office than in class these days, it seemed. Sitting on the little cot designated for students, she waited for the nurse to come back to the office after she'd been called out to the playground proper to help another student who was, arguably, in worse shape than Allie was currently. After all, all that was wrong with Allie was a few scrapes from when she'd fallen this morning. Or, rather, been pushed down. Same story as every day, she'd been chased by two older girls from the nearby middle school who'd made her their primary target thanks to her odd behavior, and by odd behavior, this meant primarily her attempts to practice magic.
Ever since Allie had gone to that birthday party and met The Marvelous Marcie, she'd been enamored with magic. Now, being 11, she had recently gotten a magic kit for her own birthday, and had spent every waking moment that she wasn't doing schoolwork practicing magic. The magic kit had come with a VHS tape, performed by a man who simply went by the name Mr. Magic, and Allie had damn nearly worn the tape out already she'd studied it so much. Sitting outside on the bench near the playground, after escaping the nurses office, Allie was now re-reading the little pamphlet that had also come with the kit when her cousin, Megan, sat down beside her. "Do you wanna come over this weekend?" Megan asked. "Okay," Allie said, not even looking up from her pamphlet. "What are you reading?" Megan asked, scooting closer so she could see. "Mr. Magic's Guide To Trickery," Allie said, "he teaches you how to do very basic magic tricks, and then you can use those to learn how to do more advanced ones." "Maybe we could try them," Megan said, sipping on her juice box, causing Allie to look over at her. "Yeah?" Allie asked, "we could get costumes!" And with that one little spark, an entire identity was born. Allie and Megan grew up with eachother, just down the street from one another, and as neither had any siblings, they spent all their free time - or at least Allie's free time, seeing as Megan did have friends - together. Megan didn't mind though, Allie was her best friend, and she loved spending time with her. They often had entire weekend slumber parties, which would progress all the way through college, and would even eventually move to Vegas together to pursue magic as a career as a team. But before any of that could even be a remote possibility...first there was the talent show. *** "I'm buying a tiger," Allie said as she and Megan sat on Megan's back porch, sharing a cigarette while Megan's husband, Jeff, took care of Lake inside. Megan's brow raised in surprise, but she just shook her head and chuckled. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she replied, "eventually it all comes down to big animals. That's where the real money is." "It's more that it's, like, a rite of passage," Allie said, taking the cigarette back from Megan and taking a long drag, "you know, it's Vegas, Vegas magicians use big cats, it's just...it's what you do. Besides, I always liked the idea. I remember seeing Mr. Magic do it on that VHS when we were kids, and it just always looked fun." "I guess, if you're not scared of being mauled," Megan said, the both of them laughing. "The odds of that are astronomical," Allie said, "but, sure, worthy to keep in mind." And though the odds were, indeed, astronomical, a few months later that's exactly what would happen. Allie had invited Megan and Jeff to her first real show - after months of practice - with her tiger, Domino, and as Megan had predicted, Allie was indeed mauled. And Allie had only gotten Domino because she felt she'd hit a ceiling in terms of progress, because without a partner, how much could she realistically do? So really, the mauling was Megan's fault, not that either of them would ever openly acknowledge this. But for tonight...for tonight it was just a fun little discussion. They had no way of knowing the repercussions. *** Allie and Megan were sitting in Megan's bedroom as they tried to figure out what would be the easiest trick to master first. The interlocking rings were a popular choice, of course, but so were card tricks, even if they required a bit of advanced sleight of hand. They continued to flip back and forth between multiple pages in Mr. Magic's Guide To Trickery, only to repeatedly doubt their choices. Allie, lying on her back on the floor, annoyed at Megan's indecision, was just staring at the ceiling. "Did you put all these glow in the dark stars up here?" Allie asked, pointing up. "When I was like 5, my dad held me up and had me stick 'em," Megan said, "they're nice. Pretty." "They are pretty cool," Allie agreed, "maybe we should use stars and moons and stuff on our costumes. They're kinda spooky and mysterious, right?" "Are magicians spooky?" Megan asked, and Allie shrugged. "I just think it'd look neat," Allie mumbled. And while they wouldn't exactly decide on a trick that particular day, Allie's remarks about stars and moons didn't go forgotten, because a handful of years later, when they started practicing professionally, Megan had costumes made for them, and incorporated the imagery Allie had suggested, based on the costumes they had made themselves in elementary school for the talent show. Course, they hadn't exactly decided to be in the talent show just yet, but it was a decision that was soon to be made, and it would change the course of their lives forever. *** Allie was lying in the hospital, semi conscious, hopped up on heavy painkillers and her arm completely bandaged. Machines surrounded her bed - some for drip feeding, some for helping her breath - and the soft quiet humming they sounds they produced made her feel oddly more at ease. She didn't want to blame Domino. She certainly didn't want to blame herself. If anything, she wanted to blame Megan. If Megan hadn't met her husband, if Megan hadn't had a child, if Megan hadn't walked away from the act, then Allie probably never would've gotten so reckless. Megan's level headedness had been the one constant thing keeping Allie from derailing their entire lives, but now that she was gone, that bumper was as well, and Allie had made increasingly dangerous and stupid decisions, finally culminating in one that outright nearly killed her. The door to the hospital room opened, and Megan entered. She looked like hell, which made Allie feel a little bit better. At least she wasn't the only one affected by this. Megan pulled a chair up to the bed and, resting her purse from her shoulder onto the back of the chair before sitting down, legs crossed, pulling her hair back into a messy bun, sighed. Allie rolled her head towards Megan, her face still bruised and scratched from the attack. "...for what it's worth," Megan said, "...it was a pretty good show up until that point." "That's nice of you to say," Allie whispered, her voice scratchy and rough. "And, I'm not speaking for myself personally but, there's probably some people out there who thought it was pretty good even when that happened. Some people are into some really sick forms of entertainment," Megan continued, making Allie laugh, or laugh as best as she could before coughing; Megan smiled weakly and looked at her bandaged arm, hanging from a sling, before asking, "does it hurt?" "It nearly got ripped in half, what do you think?" Allie replied. "...it was like...some form of fucked up karma," Megan said quietly, and that was the closest she ever got to taking responsibility for what had happened, even if it wasn't entirely her fault. Allie, and Allie knew this herself, should've known better than to try something so iffy. A tiger? Seriously? "Have you talked to my mom and dad?" Allie asked, and Megan, lowering her brow in confusion, shook her head; Allie's eyes softened as she said, "oh...because they haven't come by." This hit Megan like a truck. Certainly they didn't exactly live nearby, but to not even show up? Were they that ashamed of her career? It was just goddamn magic, after all. Or was it just too emotionally challenging to process what had happened? To see it up close? Were they coping by keeping a distance? Still, that wasn't an excuse for not coming to see your own child after they were mauled by a tiger before a live audience. "...that's...despicable," Megan said, reaching out and putting her hand on one of Allie's sheet covered legs, adding, "that's...I'm so sorry." "You're the only one who's stopped by," Allie said, before starting to cry. It was in this moment that Allie realized she had no real friends. Even the person she had assumed most of her life had been her best friend - her own cousin with whom she'd spent years fine tuning and honing her skills with - hadn't really been her friend. At least that's how it felt. She was completely alone. So fine, she thought, if she was going to be alone, she was going to do whatever she wanted. Screw the consequences, right? When you have nobody depending on you, you might as well act how you want. But that wouldn't last forever. Eventually someone would depend on her, and she would have to get her shit more or less together. But for right now... ...for right now she felt like they were just the same little girls who'd once been in school, learning magic, unsure of what horrors the future held. *** Megan, surprisingly, wasn't the one who was nervous about joining the talent show. If anything, she was far more interested in the social accolades it might bring. Allie was the one who had problems performing in front of others. Oh sure, they'd done little tricks here and there for their respective parents, a few friends, a teacher or two, but this was an entire audience of their peers, peers who, let's face it, generally weren't the most receptive to children with unconventional interests. How had Megan even talked Allie into this? Pacing backstage, going on in scant moments after weeks of practice, Allie herself couldn't understand how things had come to this point. She wanted to do magic, sure, but she never really considered the fact that you often had to do these sorts of things in front of large crowds of people. She leaned against the wall, tugging her cape Megan's mom had made for them tightly around herself, and shut her eyes tightly. She could hear the music from another students act - likely a dance number, as that was what most kids did - and the cheering that went along with it, and that only made her all the more scared. "Are you okay? You look bad," Megan asked, as Allie opened her eyes only to find her cousin, also in costume, standing in front of her. "I'm...scared," Allie said quietly, almost ashamed to admit it. "Why are you scared? We worked so hard to do this! Now's our chance to prove it!" Megan said happily. To Megan, it seemed like it was something bigger, but to Allie, it had just been a way to do something with her cousin. Something just for the two of them. The tables would turn on this eventually, of course, with Allie being the one who'd wind up having a full on career in the arts of magic, while Megan would retreat back into civilian life, almost as if she were ashamed of what she'd done in the field. But for right now, Megan was the driving force between them in getting others to notice their skills and talents and abilities. And yet, when the time came for them to go out on that stage, they excelled beyond their wildest dreams, and everyone else's expectations. They made a great team, and this would only be further proven as the years went on. A few weeks after this moment, Allie sat down and wrote a letter to Mr. Magic, using the address given on his VHS. In it, she talked about how much his work meant to her, and how he'd inspired her to do magic herself, and how she wanted to be just like him. A few months later, she surprisingly got a response in the mail. In it, Mr. Magic wrote: "Dear Allie, thank you for your kind words! Knowing that I can inspire the youth of today to attempt something as old fashioned as magic, when there's so many other far more interesting things out there to do, makes me feel like what I do really does matter. I hope you continue, and reach heights you could only dream of. I believe in you. I have enclosed with this letter a signed photo. Your friend, Mr. Magic" Allie hung it on the wall of her bedroom, and when she got each subsequent living space in Vegas - finally landing in the suite she was in now - she made sure that this was always the first thing put up on the wall when she got settled in. The photo and the letter were framed side by side, and Allie walked by it everyday, taking strength from the only person she'd ever truly admired and looked up to. Who knew that, years down the road, she'd have the same effect on someone herself that Mr. Magic had had on her. *** It had been a birthday gift. Zoe loved magic, and loved Allie Meer's magic specifically, having seen a few little snippets on special broadcasts about life in and around Vegas, focused specifically on the arts and culture of the city. So when her birthday came around this year, she asked her parents to take her to see Allie's show, and what a show it would be, after all, she would have a tiger! That evening after the show, sitting in the backseat of her parents car, watching the streetlights overhead as they passed by, Zoe couldn't help but think about the show. She'd begged her parents to take her for her birthday, and what had she gotten? A spectacular once in a lifetime event where a woman was mauled by a tiger. She wasn't exactly listening to her parents talk in the front seats, but she could hear them whispering. "What an awful thing," her mother said, "god, those screams. I guess there's a reason most magicians don't use big cats anymore." "Poor woman didn't deserve that," her father chimed in, "I really hope she recovers well. God, and to think we took a child to this, that had to be awful to witness." But the thing was, it wasn't awful to witness. If anything, the excitement of the moment had convinced Zoe that this was the career she wanted, and from that moment on, she made a concerted effort to mimic her idol, Allie Meers. If only she'd known what the outcome of this would be. But at the time, she was just a little girl, and much like Mr. Magic had been to Allie, Allie was nothing but an inspiration to young Zoe Fitch, and it was why, even in the present, she couldn't entirely turn her back on Allie, regardless of her actions. Besides, she'd known Megan had done that. She wouldn't be another Megan. The last time someone had abandoned Allie, she'd been mauled by a tiger. What would happen if Zoe walked away too? *** Allie was walked into a room and told to sit, which she promptly did. Tropper plopped down a nice hot mug of coffee in front of her, before seating himself down across from her, beside Siskel. Allie hesitantly reached out, took the mug by the handle and sipped slowly, before reaching out and picking up a bear claw from the open box of donuts between them on the table. "So...you guys just wanted someone to have brunch with, or?" Allie asked. "Miss Meers," Siskel said, sighing slowly and cupping her hands on the table, "we didn't want to do things this way, but at this point, after all the wild goose chases, we felt we had no choice. We're sorry for the, well...well it was a kidnapping, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it." "You said you needed my help?" Allie asked, and Siskel nodded as Tropper opened his jacket and pulled out a white rectangular envelope, setting it on the table and sliding it across the table at Allie, who slowly took it, opened it and pulled out the contents; after glancing over them momentarily, she looked back up and asked, "...what is all this?" "They're receipts. They're proof of massive tax fraud, money laundering, embezzlement, everything under the financial crime sun," Siskel said, "and it all ties back to your boss, the owner of The Card Shark." "...wait, what?" Allie asked, "I thought...I thought you were after me for the whole, you know, governors son thing?" "We were, initially," Tropper said, "that was before we discovered his dealings with Tony, and other casino owners. But we need you, Miss Meers." "Need me for what?" Allie asked, visibly shaking. "We need you to help us arrest the governor of Vegas," Siskel said. That, Allie had to admit, wasn't what she had been expecting. "Why are these people in our apartment?" Olivia asked Benny in their bedroom.
Allie had explained it so succinctly, but could Benny replicate her reasonings to someone not as involved? He sighed and ran his hand down his face, sighing. Ever since getting involved with Allie again, he knew she'd be trouble, but at the same time, he'd wanted to get back at Tony for how he and his company had treated not just Benny, but also Olivia. She sat down on the bed beside him and put a hand on his thigh, causing him to look up at her and smile. "Nobody knows we're planning this together," Benny shrugged, "I guess...I guess she figured this was the best possible spot to be. I'm sorry, I didn't wanna make things difficult, but...after the way Tony treated you, treated me, treated Allie..." "You're a good man, Benny," Olivia said, reaching up and touching his face, "please don't ever doubt that." She leaned in and kissed him between the eyes, and Benny blushed. He couldn't believe that he'd found a woman as wonderful as Olivia who loved him just as he was. Olivia stood up and pulled her uniform on, then turned and looked back at him as she picked up her purse. "I need to get to work," she said, "just...try not to get arrested while I'm gone, okay?" Benny nodded, chuckling as she exited the room. As she did, the door to the bedroom now open slightly, Molly peeked in and Benny looked up at her. "You need something?" he asked. "Can I use the bathroom?" she asked, "or...more specifically, do you have something for anxiety in your medicine cabinet? All my medications are at home." Benny nodded, and Molly came into the room as Benny stood up and headed into the adjoining bathroom. Molly followed, standing just outside the doorframe of the bathroom while Benny tugged open the medicine cabinet door and began rooting around inside, looking for the Xanax perscription he and Olivia had. Molly chewed on her nails nervously, looking at her feet. "...I...I'm sorry," Molly whispered, "I hope we...we aren't making your life any harder, or ruining your relationship or-" "Nah," Benny said, hand waving towards her, "don't worry about it." "...this isn't my fault, right?" Molly asked, on the verge of tears, and Benny stopped what he was doing and walked towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Hey, you had no way of knowing she was using you," he said quietly, "this wasn't your fault. She's obviously an exceptional liar. And I know what it's like to so desperately want friends. Believe it or not, this charisma and charm doesn't exactly draw people in the way I might hope it would. Outside of y'all, Olivia is the only friend I really have. Then again I kind of like it that way. But when you're that lonely for company...yeah, it makes sense to believe anything they tell you." "She lied about her name, about her job, everything," Molly said, sniffling, tears running down her face. Benny sighed and pulled her in for a hug, rubbing her back. He stood there, just cradling this poor, distraught architect and tried to think of something comforting to say, but all he could come up with was a tighter hug. Meanwhile, out in the main room, Claire, Rachel, Allie and Zoe were all either seated on the couch, lying on the floor or pacing. Allie was standing at Benny's fridge, pulling a soda out of it when she heard Claire step behind her. "Yeah?" Allie asked, rising back up and popping the top of her soda open. "So this is your big plan? Hide?" Claire asked. "If these agents want me so bad that they're willing to send someone into someone else's life just to get close to me, then yeah, hiding seems to be the best option until we can get out of town," Allie said, taking a long sip. "What if it isn't them?" Claire asked, and Allie raised an eyebrow at this statement. "What do you mean?" she asked as she finished her drink, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, "what...what do you mean? Of course it's them, they're the only ones after me. They've been trying to get to me for months, for god sakes they released you to get to me." "And look how well that's worked out in their favor," Claire said, smirking, making Allie chuckle; Claire sighed and tossed her hair from her face, adding, "all I'm saying is let's not jump to somewhat obvious conclusions. Maybe they knew I wouldn't bite, so they had a bad up plan in place to get the information on your boss that they needed to move forward. Maybe you're in the clear now. They realized how frustrating you were to chase and they gave up." "You're kind of ruining my self esteem," Allie mumbled. "Your self esteem is based purely on your importance to authority figures?" Claire asked, laughing, "you're weird, Meers." Allie shrugged, but she didn't disagree. She was weird. It's how she'd gotten to where she was today. *** Kristin had gotten back to her apartment, took a shower, picked out a new outfit and redressed before gathering all the files she'd taken from Molly's home office. As she stood over her desk, buttoning the collar of her shirt, looking down at the papers, she felt a twinge of remorse. She really didn't want to hurt Molly. In the past few weeks, she'd gotten to really like her as a person, and Molly was, from what she could tell, the least deserving one among them to be hurt, but she'd been hired to do a job, and she couldn't back out. Once fully dressed, she picked up her cell phone and dialed, tapping her nails on her desk as she waited for someone to answer. "Hello?" they asked. "It's Kristin, it's done, I got it all," she said, "where do you want to meet?" "Just meet me at the usual location, we'll be waiting. You did good," they replied, "and what about anyone knowing?" "The architect got wind, and she might've run off to tell the others, but...honestly, I don't think it's fair to go after them," Kristin said, "especially the architect. She really wants nothing to do with any of this. She's just kind of stuck with these people." "Well, we'll decide that at a later date," they said, "I'll see you shortly." Kristin hung up and sighed, walking to her vanity mirror and looking at herself. She felt so terrible about what had happened with Molly, and she wanted so badly to fix it, but she knew she had a duty to uphold. She sighed and ran her hands down her suit jacket, slipped her feet into her shiny black shoes and then picked up the files from the desk. She tucked them under her arm and headed out the front door. She had a few errands to run before meeting with them, but soon...soon it all would be over. *** Zoe was sitting on the couch, staring at her shoes. How had this happened? How had her life become this? She could remember the first day Tony introduced her to Allie, and how excited she'd been to actually work with her childhood idol. And now? Now she was holed up in an apartment, fearing for her life and her freedom, and with a serial killer no less. Rachel St. Sebastian came back in from the patio, stubbing her cigarette out as she did, and seated herself on the couch beside Zoe. "You okay?" Rachel asked and Zoe shrugged. "...I don't think I've been okay for a long time," Zoe mumbled, "and besides, what would be the point of being okay at this point? There's no way out of this anymore. Especially now if the agents have the proof that they need." "Well, perhaps with that proof they won't need you anymore," Rachel said. "She still killed someone," Zoe said softly, finally looking up at Rachel, her eyes bloodshot, "...they don't just let that sort of thing go. She's going to have to eventually face the consequences of her actions, regardless of how attached to this other case she might be." "Zoe," Rachel said, sighing heavily, throwing a glance towards Claire before looking back at Zoe, "sometimes there are people in our lives that we'd give everything for, but there does come a point where one has to ask themselves just how worth it going down for them really is. Is Allie really worth throwing your life away for? You've done nothing wrong up to now. If anything, you're an accomplice, and an unwilling one at that. Just something to think about." Zoe nodded, looking towards Allie as she and Claire continued to have a hushed discussion in the kitchen area. Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Benny and Molly were lying on the bed staring at the ceiling To help Molly not feel so alone, Benny had taken a Xanax too, and now they both were rather calm and serene. "I used to think that I'd build something amazing," Molly said, "like...something nobody would ever dream could be built." "But you have," Benny said, "I mean, they're just casinos, sure, but look at how cool they are compared to the others. And a casinos big draw - not that anyone else will ever admit this - is its visual. It has to be visually alluring to pull you in, entice you to spend time and money there. You did a great job." "Yeah but I didn't want to build casinos," Molly replied, clearing her throat, "I kind of wanted to build libraries or...or schools. Something that would be amazing but also serve a truly good purpose. I wanted to be a force of good. Not a tool of greed....you know what I'd really like to build now? A house. Just a...a beautiful little home somewhere where nobody could get to it. Far away from everyone and everything. Something beautiful in its simplicity. That's what I want to do." Benny rolled onto his side, Molly doing the same, the both of them facing one another now. "Then build one," Benny said, shrugging, "get some land, somewhere kind of remote and off the grid, or as off the grid as one can concievably get in this day and age, and build one. What's stopping you?" Molly shrugged and sighed. "I don't know...fear, I guess, or guilt," Molly said, "seems like everything I have a hand in building eventually gets sullied. Why risk that again?" Benny reached out and put his hand gently on Molly's face, smiling warmly at her. "Sometimes you just...have to do something for you, you know?" he asked, "like...like today. You came and asked me for anxiety medication, and I didn't hesitate for a second to give it to you. You did that for you. There's no shame in being selfish. People like to make you think there is, but there's really not. People say 'oh self care isn't selfish!' but it absolutely is, because that's the definition of selfish is looking out for ones self, but there's nothing inherently wrong with that!" Molly blushed and nodded. She reached up and put her hand on Benny's hand, the two of them staring at one another for a few moments. She wasn't sure what came over her next, but before she knew it, she was leaning in and pressing her lips against his. It might've been the fear, the medication, but whatever the reasoning, she did it, and she was happy when he willingly kissed her back. After a few minutes, Molly pulled away just a bit, her eyes wide. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, "I...I don't...oh god, and you have a girlfriend and-" "We're an open relationship," Benny said, smirking, "you've done nothing wrong but require comfort." Molly started crying, and Benny pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair. "Shhh," he whispered, "you're safe. You're good. You're all good." Back out in the living room, Allie was pacing while she chomped on a rice biscuit while Claire sat on the kitchen counter filing her nails and Rachel and Zoe continued being on the couch. Finally, after a moment, Zoe stood up and headed to the coat pile, grabbing hers and pulling it on before heading for the front door. Everyone exchanged a look of concern before Allie finally rushed after her. She caught up with Zoe in the hall as she was walking briskly towards the staircase. Allie reached out and tugged at Zoe's arm. "Whoa whoa compadre, where you going?" she asked. "I just...I need to get out of here for a little bit," Zoe said as they continued down the stairs, Allie on their heels. "Well, we can't just LEAVE, Zoe, who knows who's out there looking for us?" Allie asked, causing Zoe to finally turn on the landing and face her. "YOU. Looking for YOU. This is your goddamn mess," Zoe said through gritted teeth, "they're not looking for me, or Molly, or Benny, they're looking for YOU. They released a fucking serial killer to get to you. They hired a fake showgirl to get to the vault plans. Look at how desperate they are! And it's you, Allie, it's always been you." A moment passed, as a couple walked silently by on the staircase. After they were gone, Zoe took a long, deep breath and rubbed her face. "Look," Zoe continued, "look...you're my idol. You're my best friend. I know you did what you did to protect me. I...I don't want to seem unappreciative-" "You have every right to be unappreciative," Allie whispered, taking Zoe by surprise. "Wh...what?" she asked. "You have every right to hate me for the things I've done," Allie said, almost in tears, "I've never had a real friend, Zoe. Nick, Megan, those were the closest I ever got, and one was a romantic situation and the other was family. You're the first person I've ever really managed to call a friend. A real friend. I didn't want to lose you to the same shit that pulled me apart. You deserved better than that. But even if my deeds were noble, you have every right to hate me for them. I've only complicated things further." Zoe nodded, then continued down the stairs, Allie following right behind her. As they reached the outside of the apartment complex, standing on the street, Zoe turned and looked at Allie again. "Can I just...I just need to go. To like...the suite or something," Zoe said, "I just wanna take a bath. I'll be in and out, discreet, and come right back. They won't search somewhere that obvious, because they know we're too smart to actually go there, so if we go there now, they won't ever think of it." Allie nodded and reached into her pocket, giving Zoe the key to the suite. Zoe put her arms around Allie and hugged her tight, then began to head across the street. As she reached the other side, Zoe turned back and waved at Allie, who waved back, smiling. For once, it felt like even if they were on shaky ground, they'd found some level of understanding. Just then, a car pulled up hard in front of Allie and the door opened. A man in a suit got out, grabbed Allie around the waist while she shouted and kicked and pulled her into the car. "Allie!" Zoe screamed, as the car just as quickly pulled away and sped down the road. Zoe chased after it for a moment, then stopped, standing stunned in the road. Allie was right. They shouldn't have left the apartment. They were just waiting. Inside the car, Allie finally was unhanded as she looked at the two people sitting across from her. "Who the fuck are you?! What the fuck is this?!" she shouted. "Miss Meers, I'm so sorry for such drastic action, but we need to talk," the woman said, leaning into the light, "my name is Agent Rebecca Siskel, and this is my partner Agent Roger Tropper. We know you killed the governors son, but hard as it might be the believe, that's not why we're kidnapping you." Allie furrowed her brow, confused. "Huh?" she asked, "What other possible reason could you-" "We need your help," Agent Siskel said, as the car rounded a corner, disappearing into the city outskirts. "I thought you were my friend," Molly whispered, wiping her eyes on her oversized sweater sleeves, "I thought...I thought you actually liked me, and wanted to know me."
"It's not personal," Kristin said, "Molly, it really isn't. I didn't wanna hurt you, especially after getting to know you, but...but you were the closest and easiest source to attach to. I'm sorry. You're such a sweet person, and you really don't deserve this, nor do you deserve what she's putting you through." Molly nodded momentarily, then furrowed her brow and shook her head, squinting angrily as she looked up at Kristin. "Actually no," Molly said, "you don't get to say that, because she might be a mess, but she's stuck by me. She's included me. She came clean of her own accord, I didn't have to stumble into it like I did with you. So yeah, she might be a mess. But we're a mess together, and you don't get to judge her." Kristin smiled weakly. "I certainly commend your loyalty," she said, "now if you'll excuse me, I have someone to get this information to." 7 HOURS EARLIER "Where are we going?" Allie asked, as Claire rolled down her window and flicked her cigarette out. "We're going somewhere we won't be bothered," she replied, "don't worry, nobody here is going to harm anyone. We're all on the same team. We just have some shit to talk through. Obviously something serious has come up if I've been released, you figure. Well, there's two FBI agents who are trying desperately to get close to you. Agent Siskel and Agent Tropper. They're the ones who got Sunny's body, and the tomb, before Rachel here snatched it back for us." "What...what do they want with me?" Allie asked, she and Zoe both looking confused at this. Rachel pulled the car into an empty casino parking lot. This casino, Dante's Inferno, had gone under a number of years ago, and while originally it had been slated to be imploded and replaced with something else, the deal fell through, and now the place sat decrepit and abandoned. The perfect place for someone like Claire to have a meeting. As Rachel parked and turned the car off, the girls all opened their respective doors and exited. Claire lit another cigarette, then offered one to Allie, who waved it away politely. "I only smoke hemp now," she said. "Wow, good for you," Claire said, non mockingly as she took a long drag then continued, "they want you, Allie, because they're certain you killed Sunny. But they also seem to think you might've had a hand in uncovering something for them. Something about your boss. What that is, I don't know. I just know they're curious. They specifically released me to talk to you and get you to meet them. But...you and I are two sides of the same coin-" "Except I don't kill people," Allie said, before nervously adding, "...purposefully." "Neither do I," Claire said, "when I'm on medication, I'm pure as snow. But my illness and the actions thereof do not define me, just as your own do not define you, and I think they recognize that and recognize that there's some merit to your decisions, some sort of contextual justification if you will. That's why they want you." "Yeah, well, good luck getting me to meet with them," Allie said sternly as she leaned against the car. A moment passed and nobody said a thing, as Rachel reached back inside and grabbed her water bottle, unscrewed it and took a long drink. Finally, Zoe cleared her throat, folded her arms and looked at Allie. "It might not hurt," she finally said, making Allie's eyes widen in shock. "Excuse me?" she asked. "It might not hurt. Hell, it might lessen whatever sentence you were going to get if you got caught," Zoe said. "I'm not gonna have gone through all the trouble to cover up a murder, steal back the corpse and dump it in a tiger pit, only to have someone else be harmed by proxy, just to then waltz into their office and say 'hey, sure I'll be your puppet!'. Zoe, do you have any idea how much effort it took just to keep us off the radar?" "And yet we're clearly not off the radar if they're releasing nearly convicted killers to approach us," Zoe said sternly. Allie pulled herself off the car and approached Zoe, the two of them posturing before eachother, each uncertain how the other might react; Zoe continued, "Allie...I think it's time. It's time to own up to it. Obviously something bigger is going on here than just catching Sunny's murderer. They say it has something to do with Tony?" she asked, glancing back at Claire. "That's the notion I got," she said, shrugging, "but I only heard snippets. I don't know what it could be or why. Just that they want you because you're close to him." "...how could you even suggest this?" Allie whispered, "after all I did for you-" "Did for ME? No. You killed Sunny to keep him getting me on drugs, something that is both admirable and unnecessary, and while I appreciate you thinking so fondly of my wellbeing, everything since then has simply been to cover up that act, an act YOU did. None of that was for me. I did nothing wrong. Yet here I am, going along with it, having secret meetings in defunct parking lots with serial killers to try and keep the lie alive! All I wanted was to perform magic with you!" Zoe was, and somewhat rightfully so, steaming mad. Allie, however, couldn't see past her own issues to recognize why, and instead she took it as a personal attack. "How dare you," Allie snarled, "how dare you even suggest I had some ulterior motive! Everything I've done has been to protect you!" "Oh grow up and stop trying to disguise your misdeeds as a defense of the wellfare of others!" Zoe shouted, "you killed a man! She killed many men!" "I did," Claire nodded, "I won't deny it." "You two have far more in common than we ever did," Zoe said quietly, and this set Allie off. She screamed and ran at her, tackling her. Claire and Rachel stood away a bit, just letting the girls have it out. Allie bit Zoe on the arm, and Zoe grabbed the back of Allie's head and yanked her head back before spitting in her face, then rolled out from underneath her. Allie wiped the spit from her face with her jacket sleeve, then grabbed Zoe's ankles and brought her back down to the ground. Allie then climbed on top of her and pinned her wrists down by her head and looked in her eyes. "....I never needed you," Allie whispered, "He assigned you to me, remember that, I could've gotten sober and been successful again without you." "Fuck that, you needed a catalyst, someone to care about because you couldn't care about yourself," Zoe replied harshly, "in fact that's why you do anything for anyone else, so you can avoid ever doing it for yourself. You wanna be a fucking martyr, go ahead, but I'm done being taken down to hell with you." Allie laid there atop Zoe for a moment, their eyes locked, and then she finally released Zoe's wrists and rolled off of her. Rachel approached and helped Zoe up, as Zoe wiped herself off from the grit and the dirt of the parking lot. Allie sat on the ground, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms hugging them. Claire walked slowly up before her and sat down, cross legged, holding out the remainder of her cigarette, and this time Allie happily took it. "Okay," Claire said, "clearly you two had some issues to resolve. I'm happy to have mediated during that frank exchange of beliefs. But Allie, you know I wouldn't steer you wrong. You came to me, one of the only people to come visit me in prison, and you asked for my advice. At a time when I was avoided, treated like a plague, you sought me out and asked me to help you. I'm not asking you to meet with these agents, I'm just telling you that they asked me to. You've done a rather spectacular job avoiding them on your own thus far. I'm here to protect you." "And how do you intend to do that?" Allie sniffled. "We'll just have to wait and see, I guess," Claire said, smiling, reaching out and placing her hand on Allie's scraped cheek before quietly adding, "but don't worry, when the time comes, I'm gonna be here for you." 4 HOURS EARLIER Molly had been gone all day. She'd been down at the casino, once again doing measurements, doing note taking, all the pre-building requirements that she had to get done before actually setting to work. Truth be told, however, that a lot of it was absolute nonsense. Nothing more than padding out time waiting for Allie and Benny to crack the idea of how to easily acces said vault. As Molly opened the door to her house and stepped inside, she sighed and let her hair down, then ran her fingers through it. She desperately needed a shower. Molly headed down the hall towards the bathroom, and that's when she heard the sound of someone rummaging through her home office. She slowly, cautiously, approached and opened the door, only to find, of all people, Kristin. "...are...are you robbing me?" Molly asked, stunned. "...this is awkward," Kristin said, standing up from the floor, papers scattered everywhere, as she smoothed out her skirt and sighed, "um, Molly, we need to have a discussion. This vault you're building, I need to know everything about it. You tell me what you know, what the plan is, and everything, and nothing will have to happen." Molly stepped back into the hall a bit, scared. "...who do you work for?" she asked. "Doesn't matter," she said, "I was asked by someone to do this, because I know you're friends with Allie Meers, and I know she killed a man that my employer wants justice for. They set me up to meet you. Told me what time you'd be leaving that day, what area of the parking lot you were in, everything. Molly, we can still be friends. Hell, I could get you out of all of this. But I need you to help me first." Molly chewed her lip, contemplating her options. Allie had created a world of trouble for her, and here this girl - a girl she apparently didn't actually know and therefore couldn't rightfully trust - was offering her a way out, if she just cooperated with her. Molly breathed heavily and shook her head. "God dammit," she whispered, before turning on her heel and running down the hall, only to feel Kristin's hands grabbing her hair and pulling her back towards her home office scant seconds later. Molly screamed and kicked, but Kristin was stronger, bigger, and had the advantage. There was nothing Molly could do now but see it through, and hope that, in the end, she'd be forgiven for whatever happened. 2 HOURS EARLIER Allie was sitting on the hood of the car with Rachel, while Claire attended to Zoe. Rachel had opened a can of seltzer water and she and Allie were passing that and a bag of chips back and forth between them. On occasion, Allie would glance back over her shoulder and peek at Claire and Zoe, wondering what they were talking about. "Why do you do whatever she asks?" Allie asked, looking at Rachel as she shoved her arm back in the chip bag. "Why does Zoe do whatever you ask?" Rachel questioned back, shrugging, "because we care about one another. Regardless of the toxicity of the relationship, we're all the other has, and...and the world is too scary to navigate on your own. I'm not saying it's healthy like this, but...fuck...it's not ideal the other way either." Allie sighed and nodded, understanding all too well her point. "Besides," Rachel said quietly, "I love her. I can't...I can't just shut that off. No matter what she's done, or has asked me to do, I can't just stop loving her. I know it's sick, I know it's...it's dangerous, but...fuck. She's all I ever wanted." Allie smiled. "That's actually sweet," Allie said. "And I think, deep down, you love Zoe. Not in the same way, but I know about you. Your relationship with your cousin. You see Zoe as a replacement in a sense, and you don't want her to leave like she did. You don't want to lose someone else. So you're doing everything in your power, even if it hurts her inadvertantly, to keep her here." Allie shrugged. "Maybe," she whispered, "or maybe she's right. Maybe I'm just bad." "Hey, you're the Astounding Allie, not the Awful Allie," Rachel said, making Allie giggle and blush. If there was one thing Rachel St. Sebastian was good at, it was making other girls feel better about themselves. 45 MINUTES EARLIER Kristin continued searching through papers and files, gathering everything she could that she thought was connected into one cohesive pile, as Molly sat tied to a chair with belts. "I thought you were my friend," Molly whispered, wiping her eyes on her oversized sweater sleeves, "I thought...I thought you actually liked me, and wanted to know me." "It's not personal," Kristin said, "Molly, it really isn't. I didn't wanna hurt you, especially after getting to know you, but...but you were the closest and easiest source to attach to. I'm sorry. You're such a sweet person, and you really don't deserve this, nor do you deserve what she's putting you through." Molly nodded momentarily, then furrowed her brow and shook her head, squinting angrily as she looked up at Kristin. "Actually no," Molly said, "you don't get to say that, because she might be a mess, but she's stuck by me. She's included me. She came clean of her own accord, I didn't have to stumble into it like I did with you. So yeah, she might be a mess. But we're a mess together, and you don't get to judge her." Kristin smiled weakly. "I certainly commend your loyalty," she said, "now if you'll excuse me, I have someone to get this information to." Kristin gathered everything she felt she needed and then exited. As soon as Molly heard the front door shut and the car start, she began wriggling to get free from the chair. She needed to get to Allie, and fast. She needed to tell her that the cops had someone who was hot on her tail. Molly scooted so much the chair collapsed to its side, taking her with it. As she lied there, sobbing, she continued to do her best to get free of the belts keeping her tied to the chair. If Allie could escape something, so could she. CURRENT TIME Claire approached the car, wiping her hands on her pants as Rachel and Allie looked up at her. The sun was starting to finally set, and the cool Vegas night chill was coming in. Allie zipped up her jacket, and Rachel finished drinking the seltzer then crushed the can as Claire stood in front of them. "I think I managed to smooth everything over," Claire said, "but...don't be surprised if she doesn't want to talk for a while." "I wouldn't blame her, no," Allie mumbled. "So we done now?" Rachel asked, "Can we get going? Cause I'm hungry and the sushi place is gonna close in-" Just then, they heard a car speeding towards the lot, and everyone glanced in its direction. Zoe even stood up and, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets, approached the car, though still keeping somewhat of a distance. The car swerved and veered into the lot, heading right towards them, and then came to a sudden jolting stop and just as everyones curiosity peaked, the drivers side door opened and out stepped a bruised and rough looking Molly. "Molly?" Allie asked, sliding off the hood of the car and approaching her quickly, putting her hands on her shoulders, "what the...how did you even know where-" "I drove around to every casino until I saw you here," she said, out of breath. "What happened to you?" Allie asked, reaching up and touching the bruise on her head above her right eyebrow, making her wince as she did. "It doesn't matter," Molly said, "Allie...they're coming for you. They've hired some...some private detective or something, and she...she took all my blueprints and papers for the vault and...and they're coming for you. For us. For everyone." Molly then glanced towards the others, her lip quivering, as she said softly "...we need to hide." "This, ladies, is a replica of Jackson Strange's transparent box," Benny said, slapping his hand atop it as Allie and Zoe sat on a couch in front of him. They were currently in Benny's loft, his girlfriend at work. Allie and Zoe exchanged a look and then looked back at Benny.
"Where did you even get this?" Allie asked. "Does that matter?" Benny asked, shrugging. "I'm just curious how one goes about procuring a transparent box," Allie said, "I mean, I get that we're magicians, but still, I can't imagine you can just call someone up and ask if they have them readily available. How hard was it to get this thing? How much did you pay?" "Listen," Benny said, "none of that matters. All that matters is I have it, okay? And now, it's up to us to-" "Does your girlfriend know you bought this?" Zoe asked. "Oh, that's a good question," Allie said, snapping her fingers and pointing at Benny, adding, "did she get mad when it showed up?" "What is wrong with you two?" Benny asked, annoyed, "we're committing a crime, here, why are you so stuck on how I got it? Who cares how I got it?! I got it! That's all that matters! Now, are you gonna help me figure out how to vanish in something everyone can clearly see through, or would you rather just ask me stupid questions?" "I kinda am having fun annoying you, honestly," Allie said, "but you're right, we should get down to business. So, what do you have to tell us about it?" Benny sighed and walked to the back of the box, unlatched it and pulled the back open, stepping inside, closing the entrance behind himself. Allie and Zoe leaned forward and looked confused. He wasn't visible. Somehow, despite walking inside of a seemingly transparent box, he wasn't visible. Benny then came back out and walked back around to the front of the box, grinning. "It's a two way mirror, inserted halfway," Benny said, "that's how he does it. There's a small section, just long and tall enough to conceal him in the middle of the box, where he can see out of, but nobody can see him. This gives him the illusion of having vanished. It's actually pretty simple, which isn't surprising, given he seemed pretty simple." "Someone sounds jealous," Allie murmured. "I'm not going to stoop to allow myself to be jealous of an idiot," Benny said, "the real question is...once he's hidden, how does he get out. That's the real trick, and if we can crack that, then we'll be golden." "...I'm gonna get some snacks. We're gonna be here a while," Allie said, standing up from the couch. *** Rachel St. Sebastian was lying on her side on her bed, staring at the wall. She'd never felt more conflicted in her life. She felt a hand creep up onto her hip and she tensed up. She knew Claire wasn't awake, she could hear her lightly snoring, but still...something about her being so close...though, how much closer could they get after last night, really? Rachel quietly slipped out of bed and pulled on some underwear and a loose shirt, then headed out the hall towards her kitchen. She started to make some coffee, and, standing there watching it drip, she thought how easy it'd be. Claire was sleeping. It wouldn't even hurt. She had all the necessary supplies downstairs. She could simply knock her out further with ether and kill her painlessly, and would anybody even care? She was a serial killer, after all. Rachel would probably be hailed a hero of some kind. She tapped her nails lightly on the countertip and bit her lip. But she loved her. She couldn't do that to someone she loved, someone who was finally reciprocating the feelings she'd long since had for her. That would just be plain sick. She suddenly heard moans from upstairs, and figured Claire was waking up. Rachel felt herself shift within her skin, almost purely out of fear. Why did she even come here? What could she possibly need from Rachel now? The coffee finished preparing, and Rachel quickly grabbed two mugs and filled them up, then headed back to the bedroom, where she found Claire sitting up in bed, and for a brief moment as she entered the room - seeing the morning early afternoon sun coming in through the half shut blinds and dancing on Claire's red hair - Rachel felt a pang in her heart of genuine adoration. She smiled and handed a mug to Claire, who happily took it and sipped it as Rachel seated herself back on the bed. "Did you sleep well?" Rachel asked quietly, and Claire nodded. After a few minutes of silence and drinking, Claire set her mug down on the bedside table, then climbed on her knees behind Rachel, putting her arms around her shoulders and nuzzling her neck with her lips, making Rachel shiver and blush, giggling like an adolescent teenage girl. "I need you," Claire whispered, and Rachel nodded. Who was she kidding. She would do anything Claire asked, no matter how toxic and one sided this relationship was. That's kind of what love does to a brain. It makes you stupid. *** "It just needs to appear like we were never there," Allie said, pacing circles around the box, "it just needs to seem like nobody came in or exited. That's why cracking this thing is so important. Because if it looks like anyone came in, the first person he's gonna suspect is Molly, because she's the only other one with knowledge of it. I don't want to put her in any further danger than she's already in." "That's noble of you," Zoe said, her and Allie exchanging an uncomfortable glance. Allie sighed and knelt in front of Zoe, putting her hands on her knees. "Listen, I didn't want to drag you into anything either, but you're my partner in magic, you're the only other magician whose skills I trust-" Allie started. "Uh, rude, in the room," Benny said from behind, shaking his head. "-but," Allie continued, "I don't want you to be involved in this either. After you help me crack this thing, you just go do whatever it is you want, okay? Leave the rest to Benny and I, because you deserve a break after what I've put you through. I'm sorry I have turned your life into a spectacle of crime, that's not something I ever wanted for you, and you deserve better from better people than me." Zoe was, admittedly, surprised at this statement. Her eyebrows raised, and a little weak smile broke out on her lips as she nodded. Allie was, if nothing else, at least maturing to recognize how her actions affected others. Being sober probably helped in that regard. "Well," Zoe said, standing up and smoothing out her skirt, "in that case...I think we should take a lesson from Occam's Razor, in that the simplest solution is often the correct one. If you want to get into something, it has to look seamless, that's the whole trick to the box, right? His disappearance is seamless. They might question how it happens, but they don't question that it happened. We need that level of acceptance. And how do you do that? With something that, just like the box, blends in with itself." Benny and Allie looked at one another, then Benny glanced back at Zoe and furrowed his brow. "Are you saying..." he asked. "Yeah," she replied, grinning, "fake wall. Think of the hangman illusion. You've got someone clearly about to be hanged, a real rope, a real stage, or at least real enough to be accepted as fact. Props that don't look like props are never questioned. That's why the box is so perfect, because it's designed to look like something we're all aware of the visual of. Nobody questions a box, and nobody..." Zoe said, putting her hand on the box now, smiling, "...questions a wall." *** Rachel St. Sebastian had never really had what others might call a 'successful relationship', and the fact that the closest she'd come thusfar was with a serial killer who ran a cult proved she wasn't going to anytime soon. In fact, for a majority of her life, Rachel had rarely had relationships at all. Despite being constantly chased after by other women, she wasn't all that interested in them most of the time, and the few she was were never interested in her in the same way. So Rachel St. Sebastian focused on the dead. She focused on those who couldn't judge her and, instead, would likely be grateful for her help. And this level of desperation for acceptance was becoming all the more clear with Claire's requests for help. "They want me to turn on her," Claire said, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee as Rachel made breakfast; Claire continued, "they want me to lure her somewhere where they can approach her, because they know she and I have spoken. The question is...should I? I have nothing but respect for Allie. I mean, let's face it, she killed a man and put him in a box, and I killed people and put them in walls. We're not so different. It'd be like turning on myself." "Mmm," Rachel said, flipping her eggs, "but...but she's not you, you know that, right?" "I'm well aware, yes," Claire said, lightening a cigarette and taking a long inhale, "but when you're so similar to someone, it's hard to want to hurt them without feeling like you're hurting yourself. Besides, she at least had noble reasons for what she did. I didn't. I was just sick." Rachel smirked as she seasoned her eggs and continued cooking. At least, if nothing else, it seemed Claire was acknowledging her faults and taking responsibility for them. That was progress. The lowest level of progress, but progress nonetheless. Everyone's got to start somewhere. "And why do you need my help, exactly?" Rachel asked over her shoulder. "Because I need a mediator. I can't risk exposing myself," Claire said, "I need to keep as low a profile as possible, which means I need you to set up a meeting between Allie and I. Please Rachel, I...I really really need you right now." Rachel blushed and plated her eggs, then plated some for Claire and sat herself and the plates down at the table. Rachel looked at Claire, who held her mug in her lap, both hands cupped around it and her eyes looking down at her legs. Claire seemed...uncertain of herself, and it wasn't something Rachel was used to seeing from her. Even when she'd known her to be on medication, Claire had always been confident, but now she seemed rather cautious. "...please Rachel," she whispered, sounding like she was going to cry, "you're the only one I have." "I got you," Rachel said, reaching out and touching her leg, smiling. Rachel would do anything for Claire, and that unrestricted loyalty terrified her. *** Allie was standing at the box while Zoe pulled her jacket on and looked back at her. Benny was in his kitchen, getting a drink. Zoe approached Allie and tapped her on the arm, causing her concentration to break and make her chuckle. "Sorry," Allie said, "lost in thought." "I'm gonna go," Zoe said, "Effie and I are supposed to have dinner together. You gonna be okay?" "Yeah, I'll be fine," Allie said, waving her hand at Zoe, "don't worry about me, you go and have a nice dinner. Tell Effie I said hi." Zoe nodded, hugged Allie and then exited the apartment. As the door closed, Benny walked back to Allie and the box, standing opposite of it from her, taking a long drink from the uncapped bottle of soda he'd gotten. After a moment Allie glanced up and their eyes met. "You sure about this?" Allie asked, and Benny shrugged. "Not really sure about anything to be honest, I don't have much self confidence," Benny said, making Allie chuckle as he added, "but Allie, if there's one thing I know, it's magic. You and I both know magic. Between the three of us, I think we can pull this off. Fuck Tony, he deserves to be taken down a notch." Zoe chewed on her lip and nodded slowly. "...Zoe's not coming," Allie said, making Benny raise an eyebrow in surprise. "She's not?" "She's not," Allie said, "I've done so much damage to her life. I can't make her go any further. Molly too. Once we get in, she's out. Are you absolutely certain you wanna be a part of this? You could go to jail." "I'm a magician, my life is already a kind of prison," Benny said, making Allie throw her head back and laugh. Allie hugged Benny, got her own jacket on, thanked him for getting the box and then headed out herself. As she got into the elevator and headed back down to surface level, she couldn't stop thinking about how they were going to manage to pull this off. It was going to be one hell of a stunt, if accomplished correctly. Her thoughts then turned back to Zoe, and she grimaced. All Zoe had wanted to do was perform magic with her idol, and what had Allie done to her life? Absolutely destroy it. Kill a man for her. Rope her into covering up multiple crimes. The gravity of the ongoing situations was starting to wear on her conscious. As she reached the bottom of the complex, and headed into the parking garage pulling her keys out, she heard Zoe suddenly and turned to see her standing there. "...what...I thought you left," Allie said, "What are you still-" "Come here," Zoe said quietly, and Allie nodded, following her. They walked between a handful of closely parked cars, like tins of sardines in a case, past pillars of varying numbers and letters, only to finally reach a small black car that was idling. Zoe and Allie stopped, and Allie looked at Zoe, confused, but Zoe just shook her head. The car door opened and out stepped Rachel St. Sebastian. "Oh," Allie said, almost sounding relieved, "it's just you. What...what are you doing here? How did you even know where I'd be?" "You're not a hard person to track down, contrary to the police's belief," Rachel said, standing by the drivers side door, hand on the top, "but I'm not the one who wants to see you. You guys should get in." Zoe and Allie waited a moment, then they walked to the car and, Zoe getting into the front passenger seat and Allie climbing into the backseat, Rachel climbed back into the drivers seat and slammed her door shut, starting the car up proper. Allie coughed and waved at the smoke that had filled the car, only to recognize Claire's face as she did so. Claire just smiled at her. "Hi Allie," she said. "...you're out?" Allie asked quietly, shocked. "We have a lot to talk about," Claire said, "Rachel, drive." Rachel pulled out of the parking space, reversed and headed towards the parking garage exit, heading off to god knows where. They didn't know at the moment the car hit the street, basking in the glow of the early evening sun, but in less than 24 hours, their whole lives would change drastically again. Claire pulled her shoe up over her heel and then sat back upright on her cot, smiling down at her feet. She took a look around her room and sighed. She'd become so accustomed to this place that leaving seemed so strange. Still, would be nice to be home. The door to her room opened and there stood Agent Siskel, in her nice suit, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
"You ready?" Agent Siskel asked. "You have no idea how ready I am," Claire said. Agent Siskel was holding a brown duffel bag filled with Claire's mixed belongings, and together with Claire, they walked out of the room and down the hall towards the front room. Once in the main hall, Agent Siskel handed the bag to Claire and, upon taking it from her grip, Claire looked up at Agent Siskel. "You don't worry you're making a huge mistake?" Claire asked. "Sometimes you have to take a risk in order to get great reward," Agent Siskel said. Claire smirked, gripped the handles of her bag tighter and walked past Agent Siskel and out into the afternoon Vegas sun. Her eyes took a moment to readjust, and then she stopped and took a long, deep breath and then headed for a payphone to call a taxi. First things first, she really needed to go home and take a long shower. Then she would get a good meal. And then? Then she'd get started on her plan. *** "I feel like I'm going to a wedding," Benny said, walking down the rows of seats, smoothing his hand over his suit, "why do we have to look nice? Why couldn't we just wear street clothes?" "Because I don't want to stand out," Allie replied, pushing him gently on the back, "now get going, I wanna sit down." "So instead we have to look like The Four Seasons?" Zoe asked, making Benny laugh. Allie was in a suit as well, while Zoe was wearing a slimming, form fitting black dress with her hair pulled back up into a messy bun. As they slid into the aisle to take their seats, Benny looked around and adjusted his tie. "This is ridiculous, we don't get even get popcorn or anything," he muttered. "What's this guys name again?" Zoe asked as they started to sit down, Allie between the two of them. "Jackson Strange," Allie and Benny said in unison, as Allie continued after with, "and no, before you ask, I don't know him and I've never seen him. Believe it or not, not all magicians know eachother." "You two knew eachother," Zoe said, causing Allie and Benny to exchange a look before looking back at her. "Listen, Sally Semantics, I wouldn't classify us as 'knowing' eachother, we're more like people who've met once or twice at a party," Benny replied, "and second of all..." he pointed at her, licked his lips and then sighed, shaking his head before adding, "...I got nothing. She's right." Just then, the house lights were brought down and the crowd in the theatre erupted into applause and cheers. Allie was, admittedly, surprised. She hadn't expected Jackson Strange to draw such a crowd much less receive such a reaction. The stage before them lit up, and out he walked. And much to Allie's further surprise, he wasn't what she expected him to look like either. She'd expected some kind of metal head looking young man, in ratty jeans and a beard, but instead, out walked a fairly clean shaven young man, dressed in a button down shirt and slacks, with a long black peacoat over his shoulders. Allie thought to herself if he was already this surprising...what else could he have in store for her? *** "This is amazing," Kristin said, sipping her coffee from her mug at Molly's kitchen table. Molly was standing at her counter, stirring creamer into her own mug, smiling at Kristin's kind words as Kristin continued, adding, "and he asked you to do this for him? Like...personally?" "I guess I made such a good impression on him when I built the second casino, that he wanted to utilize me again. Hey, I'm not gonna say no to another job," Molly said, shrugging, tapping her stirrer on the edge of her mug and saying, "besides, I like taking on projects that aren't houses or offices. Things I've never designed before. Gives me some kind of challenge." Kristin nodded, pushing some of her hair back behind her head and then sipping from her mug again. "Did he say what it's for?" she asked. "Just said it's a vault for the casino," Molly replied, shrugging, "assuming he's going to keep a mountain of money in it, like some sort of Egyptian Pharaoh. Frankly I don't really give a shit, so long as I get paid to make it. He can keep a solid car in it for all I care." "Do they make solid gold cars?" Kristin asked as Molly sat down and chuckled as she tossed her hair. "I don't know, but if they do I'll never afford one. I don't even know how well they'd drive, honestly," she replied, both girls laughing. Molly was happy. It was nice to have a friend who wasn't attached to some sort of illicit activity. She felt like she spent all of her time surrounded by people trying to either break the law or avoid getting caught by it. Kristin was different. Kristin was just...a person. An ordinary everyday person who worked a regular job as a showgirl at the casino. Nothing out of the ordinary, no wild and crazy schemes, just a lovely young woman Molly happened to back her own car into hers. "So, is designing this...like...difficult?" Kristin asked, setting the papers down on the table and leaning back in her chair. "Not really, no," Molly said, "in fact, because it doesn't have to follow certain structure code, I'm able to be pretty free with it. That isn't to say I'm gonna cut corners, I'm a professional, but it does allow me some wiggle room to play around with. Either way, it's a nice change of pace from what I'm usually asked to design. Don't get me wrong, I love making homes, but there's only so many different ways to do it, and after a while you get kind of...I don't know...depressed about building nice places you don't get to live in." Kristin giggled and sipped her coffee, then asked, "do you not like your house? Cause's it beautiful." "Oh, I do!" Molly remarked, looking around her kitchen, "I really do, I just...I don't know. Sometimes I think about what it might be like to have a totally different home. Live a totally different life. Be a totally different person, you know? I don't think that's that unusual, I think most people probably indulge in a little escapist fantasy now and then." Kristin nodded, still sipping, listening. Molly lifted her mug to her lips and took a long drink as well, their eyes connected. Yes, Molly liked having normal friends. She couldn't believe she'd waited so long to try it. *** "That was nothing but showboating," Benny said. The three of them, Benny, Allie and Zoe, were seated at the casino bar that evening after the show. Benny had his hand in a bowl of mixed snacks on the bartop, while Allie and Zoe sipped some non alcoholic drinks. Benny sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Nothing but showboating and yet...everything he did was seamless," he continued, "you couldn't spot the trick even if he pointed it out to you. If there's a man capable of getting in and out of a place undetected, it's that guy, and it's a miracle he's decided to use his gifts for magic rather than robbing banks." Allie chuckled and pinched her straw, pulling it to her lips and taking a long drink. Afterwards she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and nodded. "He's definitely the guy to watch," Allie said, "now all we have to do is figure out how he does it." "Well a magician never reveals their secrets, yeah?" a voice said from behind, as Jackson Strange himself waltzed up and stood between Benny and Allie. He flashed her a smile, and for a moment, Allie had to remind herself that this wasn't someone she could flirt with - aside from the fact she had a boyfriend - and instead was someone she was attempting to mimick creatively. Jackson ordered a drink, then scooped a handful of snacks from the bowl and dropped them in his mouth; he continued, "but, I'll let you in on a little secret, since you're all in the business of magic yourselves. Most people do not realize what is done as stage illusions and what is not until emergency measures have to be taken to end the escape routine entirely. You dig into the history of escapes and people have died, more often than any other line of magic work. That's why we have to be so careful." "Fascinating," Benny said flatly, picking up his ginger ale and taking a long drink as he rolled his eyes. "Well, I feel like that if you know even the tiniest bit about magic, then escapology loses it's appeal faster than almost any other kind of magic. That's why the necessity for belief is so crucial, because once you realize that the hinges, screws, chains, handcuffs, bars, water tank, wooden frame, and giant blade, are entirely fake, always, and 100%, you just lose your appreciation of the whole thing. Not to talk shit about my own work, but escapology, at this level of performance, is just magic for people who pay no attention to magic, and won't think about it after they watch it. But that's the beauty of it. You have people willing to believe what they're seeing, with no real thought given to it. That's what makes it work. If you can get them to believe it, you're golden." Aliie nodded, listening intently. "So, how does one go about then, say, escaping a transparent box, like you're going to do soon?" Benny asked, "cause you're suspended in mid air, with everyone capable of seeing you from all angles. What's the trick to that?" "Again," Jackson said, finally getting his drink from the bartender and leaving her a tip, winking as he did, "the illusion of accessibility. It's all about misdirection. If you tell someone something is a transparent box, they're going to believe it when they see it, regardless of how you escape it. Suspending myself above them gives me ample room to be just far enough away to do things they can't make out exactly. People are so quick to call things their eyes can't make sense of 'impossibilities'. How many times have shooting stars been called UFO's, or balls of light called Ghosts? People want to believe in the unbelievable. I just give them that service, at a price of course." Jackson then patted Allie and Benny on the back and nodded. "See ya around, kids," he said, before turning and walking off, drink in hand. "Wow," Allie said, as they watched him leave, "what a perfectly pretentious piece of work." "He called us kids," Benny said softly, "I'm like 4 years older than him." "So," Zoe asked, finally chiming in, "how do we do what he does, but on a larger scale?" "That," Allie said, turning and grinning at her, "is the million dollar question." *** Agent Siskel was standing in her kitchen, staring at her fridge. She couldn't decide if she wanted to cook dinner or order dinner. She sighed and closed the fridge after pulling a soda from it, popping the top and taking a long swig. She'd done what she'd set out to do, so why did she feel so lousy? Probably because of Agent Tropper. He was understanding enough, but the level of combativeness during their last interaction had thrown her for somewhat of a loop. She'd never had him be that blunt and angry with her. But...but this was her investigation and she was going to do what she had to close it out. Suddenly she heard a knock at her front door and glanced in that direction, before checking the watch on her wrist. It was almost 10pm, who could possibly be coming to visit her at this time of night? She walked to the door, reached out for the knob, hesitated momentarily, then bit her lip and yanked the door open. Standing there, surprise surprise, was Agent Tropper, in a sweater and some jeans. "I was just thinking about you," Siskel said. "Funny, maybe I'm a Tulpa," Tropper remarked, making her laugh as she stepped aside, allowing him entrance; once inside the living room, he turned and scratched the back of his head, looking at her as he said, "listen...I wanna apologize for the other day. I didn't...I guess I just didn't understand what you might be thinking, but you've been right about everything else so far and so I should have just trusted your instincts." "I appreciate that," Siskel said, taking another sip. "I saw that Claire's been released," Tropper said softly, "any idea where she went?" "Not at the moment, but she knows she's under the eye of the law," Siskel said, "she knows I'll track her down personally if she fails to follow through with our deal. Likely she's going to take care of some personal business first, and I don't blame her. Being locked up kind of puts a halt on your life. But after that...I'd imagine she's gonna go right for Allie." "And what makes you think she won't help her instead?" Tropper asked. A pause filled the room. "I guess it all comes down to how much Claire values her freedom," Siskel replied, "and right now, I think she values it quite a bit. But I suppose we'll just have to wait and see." *** Rachel St. Sebastian pulled up in her driveway and parked. It'd been such a long day. She'd had to go get new embalming supplies, grocery shopping, getting her mail. She was happy to finally be home and put her feet up and relax. She figured she'd make herself a nice cup of hot chocolate and put on some classical music and just lay on the couch for a bit before making something to eat. She locked her car, then headed up the walkway to the front door. As she entered the home, she set all her bags down, then turned the light on and screamed. Sitting in her recliner, drinking a beer, was Claire. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Rachel asked. "It's nice to see you too," Claire replied, smiling smarmily. "How did you-" "I was let out for good behavior." "You KILLED people and stuffed them into walls. I don't think there's any kind of good behavior that could rectify that line of action," Rachel said as Claire stood up and walked towards her. Rachel backed against the door and stared as Claire reached past her and locked the door, then put one palm against it, while the other hand grabbed Rachel's chin and forced her to look in her eyes. "Well somebody in there thought I deserved a second chance," Claire said quietly, "and I'm not going to waste it." With that, she pressed her lips against Rachel's, taking her by surprise, before reaching over to the wall with her other hand and shutting off the lights. "That's...uncanny," Peter Lorde said, sitting across from Jenny in his office. He looked down at his phone, then back up at Jenny and shook his head, "just fucking uncanny. Really spooky. What made you decide on this?"
"I don't know," Jenny said, shrugging, "if you were given the chance to change your face, wouldn't you pick something appealing?" "I...I guess I can understand that," Peter said, putting his phone down and opening her file, clearing his throat and saying, "so you think you can go back to work? I'm not gonna put you on duty for any of the big animals, don't worry, you won't have to be around tigers anymore. I want you to feel comfortable and safe, all things considered." "I don't mind," Jenny said. "Jenny, your face was ripped apart," Peter said, looking confused, "and you're not scared of tigers?" "Allie was mauled, and she isn't scared," Jenny said. "You're not Allie," Peter said sternly, and Jenny shrugged, smiling. *** Molly was sitting at her kitchen table, drinking tea as Zoe stood at the stove, making pancakes. Molly shifted some papers in front of her - various blueprints and outlines for the vault - and sighed as she reached up and scratched her forehead. Zoe walked over to the table and sat down while she waited for her pancakes to cook a little more, watching Molly look over the papers. "Are you okay?" Zoe asked. "I'm stressed," Molly said, "I...I feel like there's pressure mounting on all sides of me and there's no relief. I've got Tony breathing down my neck to make something that only he could access, but then I've got Allie watching me like a hawk to ensure we have access to it. Eventually one has to give, right?" "Wouldn't know," Zoe said, "I don't have anyone putting pressure on me at all." Molly smirked and gathered her things, putting them into her attache case just as a knock came at the front door. Zoe walked past Molly and out into the hallway, opening the front door only to find Effie there on the porch, who smiled upon seeing her. "Why...why are you-" Zoe started. "Can I come in at least?" Effie asked, just as Molly scooted past them. "See you later, Zoe. Hello Effie," she said politely, heading towards her car. With Molly out of the house, Effie indeed made her way into the house, following Zoe back into the kitchen, where she went back to the stove and continued to make her pancakes as Effie sat at the table. After a minute or so of awkward silence, Zoe gave Effie a mug of coffee, which she thanked her for after taking a sip. After another minute or so of silence, Zoe finally turned away from the stove and faced Effie. "I guess I should apologize for being so..." Zoe started, but trailed off. "Avoidant?" Effie asked, making Zoe groan and Effie laughed as she added, "hey, no apology necessary, alright? I understand things get in the way. I was more worried than anything else that maybe I'd done something to upset you or something, and-" "No, it...it wasn't you. After that whole thing with my parents, I just...I guess I've had a hard time separating who I am from who I should be, and that's been very tough on me. I know I shouldn't still be worrying about it, but...it's hard when you try to ignore something your whole life only to have it finally bubble to the surface, you know, and I...I guess in a way, avoiding you, rude as it was, was my way of acknowledging my feelings in regards to it all." "Do you wanna break up?" Effie asked, and Zoe looked at her, eyes wide. "No! No no no! Oh my god, no," Zoe said, walking from the stove to Effie and reaching out, touching her face, "never ever! No, I just...I needed some distance in order to gain some clarity, you know? I'm...I'm not the kind of person who's capable of just jumping into things headfirst and figuring it all out as I go. I'm not Allie." This made Effie laugh loudly, which made Zoe feel better. Zoe ran her hand down Effie's face and blushed. "You've shown me who I am more than anyone else ever could've, and I'm so grateful and I love you," Zoe whispered, "I'm sorry that I've been distant." "You never have to apologize," Effie said, grabbing her hips and pulling her down into her lap in the chair, "I might not understand sometimes, but I'm more than willing to listen." Effie pressed her lips against Zoe's and kissed her. Zoe's pancakes wound up burning. *** "Why's it so...big?" Benny asked, standing over a small table, staring down at Molly's drafts. "I don't know," Molly said, standing beside him, smoothing out the paper with one hand, "I really want the answer to that myself. Because it's much too large for what he's planning on keeping inside it. It's just meant to hold money, so the dimensions really don't make much sense to me either. I was wondering that myself." "Well, regardless of the answer, the size actually benefits us," Benny said. Molly looked back across the room towards Allie, who was smoking a cigarette near a window so she could exhale out of it. Molly then looked back at Benny and lowered her voice. "How did she convince you?" Molly asked, almost whispering. "...well," Benny said, "let's just say that I'm not the biggest fan of Tony myself. Guy really ripped me off. Broke a very expensive contract, bought me out, screwing me out of a lot of money. An eye for an eye and all that. My girlfriend used to be a waitress at Card Shark at one point, while she was going back to school for a degree, it was supplemental income, and from the stuff she told me about how he treated his other stars, I can't say that I'm willing to forgive him anytime soon. Seems Allie is the only one who's managed to come out remotely unscathed." "I wouldn't say that," Molly mumbled, just as Allie finally joined them, hands on her hips. "So," she said, "how about it Benny boy?" Benny stood back upright, arching his back, popping his spine and exhaling. He stretched again, then started to pace. "You guys ever hear of someone named Jackson Strange?" he asked, and after a moment of Molly and Allie both slowly shaking their heads, Benny chuckled and continued, "alright, well, Mr. Strange is like us, he's a magician. Now, Allie probably knows this, but I'm willing to bet you aren't as versed in the various types of magicians, Molly, so let me regale you with what we're categorized as. Allie here is your classic illusionist. Plays to large venues at a distance on a theatre. I'm more of a sleight of hand kinda guy myself. Up close, capable and willing to trick people with everyday objects, never having them suspect it's not real. But this guy...Jackson Strange...he's a mixture of a lot of stuff but he's essentially an escapologist. Sort of a...a modern day Houdini if you will. He's one of those guys who does big grandiose events, often in public spaces, and is far more concerned with the showmanship than the art of it all." Molly, chewing on her nails, shook her head, confused. "What the hell does this have to do with anything?" she asked. "You sure you're not a Monologue Magician?" Allie asked, making Benny playfully hit her in the arm, the both of them laughing. "Mr. Strange, as it turns out, is gearing up for a new performance very soon," Benny said, "a performance in which he gets himself out of a clear plastic box suspended from the air. So, if there's only one way into the box, how does he get out of it? That's where we come to our issue. If there's only one way into the vault, how do we get out of it?" Allie and Molly exchanged a look, and then glanced back at Benny, who put his hands on their shoulders and grinned. "Ladies, we're goin' to a magic show," he said. *** After her meeting with Benny and Molly, Allie headed back to the casino, ready to crash in her loft, knowing Nick would be off work soon. She parked in the usual spot, then headed into the casino, and took the elevator up to her floor, the floor where all the suits were where those who chose to lived if they worked there. She reached inside her jacket pocket for her suite key, when she looked up and saw someone standing near her door. "Hello?" Allie asked, and then put her hands to her mouth in shock, "...Jenny?" "Hi Allie," Jenny said, smiling. "Jesus this is creepy," Allie remarked, her voice low now, "you look...just like me. It's like having a doppleganger. Do you...do you wanna come in? Have something to drink or-" "I can't, I have to go to work in a bit," Jenny said, "I just wanted to stop by and talk." Allie nodded, opened the suite door and, together with Jenny, headed inside. Jenny shut the door behind her and watched as Allie pulled her coat off, tossed it on the couch and then headed into the kitchenette, where she yanked open the fridge, reached inside and pulled out a ginger beer. She twisted the cap off and took a long drink. "You're not drinking alcohol at all anymore?" Jenny asked. "Haven't been for a while. This has been a good substitute. So...you look like...me," Allie said. "Does that bother you?" Jenny asked, leaning on the counter. "Surprisingly no," Allie replied, "they say immitation is the sincerest form of flattery and you don't get better immitation than this, so." Jenny laughed as Allie drank more of her beer. Jenny pulled her hair back into a ponytail and exhaled. "I was worried it'd freak you out," she said quietly. "After the year I've had, I don't think anything you do could freak me out, I promise you that," Allie remarked, "barring perhaps waking up to you stealing my organs." "I'll try to restrain myself," Jenny said, leaning on the counter, "...actually...the real reason I wanted to come by and show you what they managed to do was because I wanted to thank you." "For getting you mangled? You're on sick puppy," Allie remarked. "Well," Jenny continued, smirking, "yes and no. I never really felt like I was a person. I never really identified with my...well...my identity. I always had trouble figuring out who I was, what it was I liked, what I genuinely believed. I always felt like an alien or something pretending to be a human woman. But now I...I get to pick what I look like, and start over like a fresh slate. It's kind of...freeing, in a way." Allie admitted, to herself at least internally, that this was by far the strangest turn of events she couldn't have seen coming from this situation. She had accidentally pushed Jenny into a tiger pit, getting her mauled and leaving her needing intense facial reconstruction. And now here she was...thanking her? "Well, you're...welcome?" Allie asked, ending on an inflection, which made Jenny blush and run her hands through her own hair anxiously. "I guess I just wanted you to know that not everything you do results in bad outcomes," Jenny said quietly, looking up shyly, catching Allie's eyes, adding, "sometimes, probably more often than not, you create more good in the world than bad. I know you've been having a hard year, from what little Nick has told me, and so I...I just thought someone ought to tell you that you're not as bad as you might perceive yourself to be." Allie wanted to cry. Had this come from Zoe it would've been nice but somewhat hollow since she was so close to the situation, and had this come from Molly it would've been an almost outright lie since she knew how uncomfortable Molly was with everything. But to come from Jenny...that really threw her for an entire loop. That caused her to really believe it, because Jenny...well, Jenny had no reason to lie. Allie watched as Jenny stood up straight and headed for the front door, excusing herself for work, before she rushed around and hugged her from behind, pressing her face into Jenny's back. Jenny, taken somewhat by surprised, blushed and patted Allie's hands. "thank you," Allie whispered. "Don't mention it," Jenny replied. *** "What are you doing?" Agent Tropper asked, plopping a few papers stapled together onto Agent Siskel's desk. She looked at the papers, then looked up at him and furrowed her brow. She grabbed the papers and looked at them, then sighed and leaned back, brushing her bangs from her eyes. "Figured this would come up," she said. "You're asking for Claire to be released?" Agent Tropper asked, "Seriously? And you didn't even ask how I might feel about this? Why would you want her on the outside again? Has she not proven herself a public health hazard to you yet, or do you need more evidence? Maybe some more bodies hidden in walls?" "Claire is the best tool we have at our disposal," Agent Siskel said, folding her arms, "we have a direct line to Allie here and we're not utilizing it. We let her out...we give ourselves options. We know the two are chummy. We know Meers has come to visit her. We know she helped Meers get the tomb back. After what Nicole gave us, yeah, we have a lot of evidence, but we need something more than just papers and numbers. We need something concrete. Something far more substantial." Agent Tropper began pacing back and forth, rubbing his hands over his face. "...so...so you're going to let a woman, a woman who, might I reiterate, stuffed numerous bodies in the walls of an abandoned apartment building, back into the general public all because she might...might...lead us to a magician?" Agent Tropper asked, and Agent Siskel shrugged; he threw his arms up in annoyance, but knew he couldn't undo what she'd set in motion. Finally he pulled a chair from a nearby desk over to the opposite side of hers and seated himself. "You think I'm nuts," Agent Siskel said. "I never said that." "You don't really have to," Agent Siskel said, "but Becca...if this goes south...I don't know that I can pull you out of that fire. You're gonna have to live with the consequences of this decision. I just...I hope you're aware of that." "I'm well aware, Roger," Agent Siskel said, "and rest assured, you won't be held remotely accountable for my actions. But she's not just a tool, she's not just a killer, she's not just a criminal or a cult leader. Claire Driscoll is the one thing we really really need right now." "Which is?" Agent Tropper asked, raising an eyebrow as Agent Siskel finished drinking from her water bottle and grinned, capping it. "She's a weapon," she replied. *** She knew this wasn't her route now. She knew that she no longer had to check this area. But Jenny still felt strangely pulled towards Domino's cage, and as she strolled up to the industrial fence atop its enclosure and looked down at the beautiful white tiger pacing in the dark of night, sniffing for this and that, she couldn't help but feel a tremendous sense of...cumraderie. She and Allie had both been mauled by this tiger. She and Allie looked almost identical now. Jenny stood there, barely illuminated by the one singular overhead light that filled the area, and she smiled. She was sure of one thing, and that was that she was finally more sure of who she was than she had ever been before. Who knew what getting mauled by a tiger could do for your sense of self worth. Claire Driscoll was seated on a bus, staring out the window as it sped down the freeway. She had a pair of headphones pulled tight over her ears, and nervously chewed her gum as she watched the landscape pass by at an exhilarating speed. Suddenly she felt the seat beside her shift, and glanced beside her just to see an older woman, probably mid 60s, seating herself and opening a small bag of crackers. The woman smiled at Claire, and Claire smiled politely back, then tugged one of her headphone cups off the ear facing the woman.
"Where are you going?" the woman asked. "Vegas," Claire said. "I was just out of town visiting my daughter," the woman said, smiling as she applied some peanut butter from a small tupperware onto a cracker and handed it to Claire, who happily took it; the woman ate one herself, then continued, "why are you going to Vegas? You look a little young to be traveling alone." "I'm 16," Claire said, nodding as she chewed, "I'm running away." "Running away from your family? Why?" Claire thought about that for a moment, and shook her head slowly. "Because sometimes that's what you have to do," she said, shrugging. "Do you have any other family? Anywhere to stay?" the woman asked, and Claire shook her head; the woman, her eyes so sad, her voice so low and shaky, followed up with, "...then how do you plan on being okay? You're just a child." "I'll be okay," Claire said, shrugging, taking another cracker, "I know how to survive." And that was the most Claire would ever divulge to someone about her past. Not even to her followers, not to the agents, nobody else would ever know about her past. Even now, telling her origins back to Agent Siskel, she didn't explain her childhood. Just her life after coming to Vegas. As Claire looked back out the window, at the empty desert beside the vehicle, she couldn't help but smirk. She'd look back on this day eventually with humor, knowing that she could've probably gone with that woman, been adopted and had a normal life But as Allie Meers also knew all too well, what fun was there in normality? *** Rachel St. Sebastian liked working with the dead. She found some sort of odd serenity in putting makeup on young beautiful dead women, but if there was one thing she liked more than that, it was applying makeup to living girls. Especially when she got to sit in their lap to do it, like she was doing just now. Claire was seated in a chair in front of Rachel's vanity, as Rachel, cigarette limply hanging from her coral painted lips, painted Claire's face with her makeup, applying eyeliner and mild blush. After a bit, Rachel pulled away and held Claire's face between her hands, admiring her work. "You have a fabulous jawline," Rachel said. "That's kind of a terrifying thing to be told by a mortician," Claire said, the both of them laughing. "Well," Rachel said, piercing her cigarette between two fingers and taking a long drag before tapping it on the edge of the ashtray on the table behind her, "a leader has to look good, and it's my job to make that happen. Charisma only gets you so far." Claire had had the compound opened for 3 months now, and had appointed Rachel her right hand man, something Rachel took a lot of pride in. Thusfar, recruitment had gone well. Turns out the ideas Claire had were ideas many others could easily believe in, and, as Rachel had told her, she was charismatic. And to think when she'd first arrived here in Vegas she had nothing to her name, and now she owned property. Course, a lot of that was thanks to the generosity of Rachel St. Sebastian. Rachel and Claire had met because Claire had been in the need of ether for her mental pains, and after meeting Rachel at small get together and finding out she was a mortician and knowing she'd have access to it, had swiftly hit her up about it. Rachel, definitely curious, agreed, and here they were now. Claire had been taking ether to help ease her poor mental health for a while now. She often used it to bring herself down from uncontrollable highs, or rise herself up from seemingly desperate lows. Regardless, she loved it, and Rachel kept her up to date with an endless supply. Partly out of sheer curiosity, and partly out of love, because much as she'd never admit it, Rachel was hopelessly addicted to Claire. Rachel had even put up a good chunk of the funds needed in order to purchase the compound, because she was that dedicated to what Claire believed in, and promised her. As she pulled away from Claire's face, chewing her thumbnail and admiring her work, she could feel her breath catch in her chest from looking at Claire's face under her soft bedroom lighting. "What is it? Are you done?" Claire asked. But Rachel didn't answer her, she just stared at Claire's brisk green eyes and felt herself lost within them. She wanted to put her cigarette down and lean in, push her fingers into Claire's deep orange hair and press her lips to hers. She wanted to tell Claire that they should leave the compound, just have a life somewhere far away from all of this. Just the two of them. She wanted all this...but she knew she could never ask. Suddenly she felt her cigarette ash onto her bare thigh and she winced. "Yeah," she said, "I'm done." *** Origins. Was is it about origins that drive people crazy. They always need a beginning to the story, Claire thought. Always had to have a starting point. Could never be dropped right in the middle of something. Infuriating, she thought, not just the need for closure but also the need for starters. So whenever anyone asked where Claire came from, she reached into her neverending bag of bullshit and pulled just one of her many varied origin stories for them. Sometimes she came from a wealthy family who neglected her for their work. Sometimes she came from a middle class family who had more than one child and decided she was the useless one. Sometimes she came from a poor family, and was so pressured to succeed that she couldn't handle the stress and instead fled. And sometimes she came from a perfectly normal family, with loving parents, and just needed to do something for herself. And the thing is, no matter what story she told them, they all bought it. Because she was just that good a liar. So Claire lied about where she came from, just as she had to that older woman on the bus on her way out here. And she'd continue to lie to anyone who would listen, except for Rachel St. Sebastian and, surprisingly, Allie Meers. Anytime Allie came and asked for advice, or they just chatted, Claire found herself being surprisingly open and honest with her. Perhaps she felt like they were kindred souls of some sort, both so charismatic they couldn't help but have people follow them blindly, even without wanting them to. And the thing was, Claire had read a lot about Allie, and she herself had never given a true origin story. She'd also always made things up in every interview, and Claire admired that. Here they were, two women desperate to escape their past and create a future, a future from which they could control everything around them. Except that was the thing Claire Driscoll was wrong about. Allie didn't want control like she did. Allie just wanted to be ignored outside of her work, and at this point, hell, she'd settle for being ignored entirely. Claire used others to get what she wanted, and Allie did what she did to protect those she cared about. They had their similarities, but they weren't the same. *** Rachel stood in the middle of the empty apartment, nervously smoking a cigarette, her leg shaking furiously, tapping her heel on the old hardwood floor. Claire was sitting on the one singular chair she'd brought in and was staring at the black bag lying between them, covering a body. Rachel knew she should say something, but what does one say in a situation such as this? "Why?" Rachel finally asked, glancing at Claire, her eyes watering. "Because they...they wouldn't listen to me," Claire mumbled, "they wouldn't listen, no matter what I told them, and they had to see it for themselves. See what I was saying. I had to prove to them it was all real." Claire, at this point, had been off her medication for weeks, and while Rachel had been concerned, she'd never once considered she might do something like this. She just didn't seem like she had the capacity for murder within her. Rachel nodded, took a long drag from her cigarette and looked back down at the black bag, shaking her head slowly. "You're a mortician, you can do something," Claire said, "A paupers grave or something. Nobody would ask questions." "They didn't have family, it's true," Rachel replied, "that will make disposing of them infinitely easier." What the actual fuck was she saying? She couldn't even believe the words coming from her lips. But...she looked back over at Claire, crying and burying her face in her hands, and she felt this almost innate need to protect her. To do whatever it took to keep her safe and free. Rachel put her cigarette out and walked across the room, kneeling in front of the chair and putting her hands on Claire's knees, catching her off guard. Claire looked up, their eyes meeting and Rachel smiled warmly to ease her fear. She reached up and petted Claire's face with her palm. "It'll be okay," she said, "We'll take care of it, okay? That's...that's what we do. We take care of it." Claire nodded, turning her head and pushing her cheek into Rachel's palm, making Rachel's heartbeat quicken. Rachel wanted so bad, again, to just kiss her. To prove to her that she'd do whatever it took to keep her safe. To hold her and save her from this cruel world that seemed so determined to destroy women, or make women destroy themselves. But she didn't do any of that. She just looked into Claire's eyes, patted her face and repeated herself. "We take care of it," she whispered. And take care of it she did. First she embalmed them, right there in the apartment, to ensure the stink didn't tip anyone off, and then together they put them in the wall. And then when it happened again, they did it again. And it continued to repeat, until Rachel finally couldn't take it anymore, and though she continued to help, after it was over, she'd go home and she'd sit at her kitchen table and she'd drink coffee and just stare at the wall. What the hell did she get herself involved in? She'd listened to Claire because she'd sounded so sure about the answers to eternally unanswerable questions, and now here she was just killing people who didn't understand her. She wasn't a martyr. She was a monster. And Rachel St. Sebastian loved her more than anything in the world. *** "Nobody else has come," Claire said into the phone, sitting on the other side of the plexiglass window; she took a long inhale and then followed up with, "unsurprisingly, given what I did. I don't think anyone will ever want anything to do with me again. Except maybe you...you came." "Of course I came," Rachel said, sitting there in her hawaiian shirt, the top two buttons undone and the necklace Claire had given her for her birthday dangling between her collarbones, she added, "you know I'd always come. How are they treating you?" "I mean, it could be worse," Claire said, "I'm being given nicer treatment than one would expect. How are you doing?" Rachel stared through the window for a long minute, just looking into Claire's eyes, and finally exhaled. "I'm scared," she finally said. "I'm scared too," Claire replied, "this whole situation is-" "No, not of the situation, of you," Rachel said, catching Claire by surprise; Rachel continued, no longer looking her in the face, smirking out of sheer uncomfortableness as she spoke, "you terrify me. You send chills through me. I...I didn't know you were willing to do these sorts of things, and now that you have...and involved me in them...I feel so...gross. Like you used me. And I wanted you to like me so much that I let you." "I'd never just use you, Rachel," Claire said, sounding the most sincere Rachel had ever heard, "Never ever. You're the...the only person I've ever really trusted in my whole life. You're everything. I hated bringing you into that mess, but you were the only one who'd ever been there for me, and I-" "How can I believe that? I don't know anything about your past. You won't even tell me the truth, Claire. You could have rich parents who could spring you from this in a matter of seconds, and I'd never know. So how do I know I'm the only one who's ever been there for you?" Claire took a long deep breath, leaned back and lowered her voice. "...I never told you because you never asked," she said softly, "but if you want to know...if that's what it would take..." Rachel's eyes widened in sheer surprise. She hadn't expected Claire to genuinely offer up her origins, and she was right. Rachel had never asked. She'd just...sort of listened to all the variations Claire had come up with and known they were all bullshit, but she'd never broached the subject herself, likely out of sheer respect for Claire's privacy. But they were far past the point of privacy now. "...you don't have to tell me," Rachel said, smiling, "the mere fact you were willing to proves what we have is real." Claire smiled back and nodded slowly. Rachel put her hand on the plexiglass window, as did Claire, and they smiled at one another. No more words had to be said. They were in this to the bitter end together. But that didn't mean Rachel was entirely thrilled about it. There's a big gap between admiration and obligation. The day Claire was arrested, Rachel was watching it on the TV, standing in her mortuary backroom, smoking. She couldn't believe her eyes. It was over. It was all over. Claire would maybe get the help she needed, and she knew Claire wouldn't turn Rachel over, so she had nothing to fear for herself. Amazing how love and fear go hand in hand sometimes. Rachel now finally understood all those articles she read while waiting for embalmings to be finished about women trapped in toxic relationships. Still...she couldn't help but feel responsible. But hell, for the moment, for this one brief moment of respite... ...she felt relief. *** "So," Claire said, "you wanted to know what brought me here, how I did it, all that, and I feel as though I've thoroughly provided that information now. You intend to do anything with it, or?" "I think you can help me," Agent Siskel said, "Claire..." Claire and Agent Siskel locked eyes, and Agent Siskel smirked. "...how would you like to be out of here?" "You need to get up," Olivia said, slapping Benny on the face lightly from the opposite side of the bed, and Benny groaned, pulling the covers up over him.
"No I don't, I'm an adult, I don't have to do anything I don't want to," he said, half asleep. But this protest didn't last long, because soon enough, Olivia was out of bed and pulled the whole bedding off him and tossed it into a bundle on the floor. Benny figured there was no arguing with a girl like Olivia, so he relented and dragged himself out of bed. Benny showered, they cooked breakfast together and then Benny got dressed. He kissed Olivia goodbye, knowing she'd be off to work as well, and then headed to his usual spot in downtown Vegas, for his daily street magic show. Yes, Benny Harrison had been doing street magic in Vegas for god knows how long, but what he didn't expect was that Allie Meers was keeping a keen eye on him today, and not because she thought he was particularly talented - though she did - but because she figured if anyone knew how to really pull off an illusion of grandeur, without the benefits of distance from an audience and on a stage with props, it was a street magician. *** "Good morning Claire," Agent Siskel said, plopping a box down on the table of their usual meeting room. Claire leaned forward and pushed the flimsy lid open just a tad, peaking inside and smirking. "Donuts? Really? Is it my birthday?" Claire asked as Agent Siskel smiled and pulled her coat off, hanging it on the back of her chair and taking a seat across from her; Claire furrowed her brow and asked, "...where's your partner?" "He's dealing with some paperwork," Agent Siskel said, "so I figured it'd be a girls day." "Are we gonna get pedicures?" Claire asked, and Agent Siskel genuinely laughed. Claire then opened the box again and reached inside, pulling out a sprinkle covered cream filled donut and taking a bite of it, moaning at the sugar high rushing to her head now. "Claire," Agent Siskel said, "...I need your help. Usually I wouldn't ask like this, but...I have something that I just cannot crack on my own, and I need an experts advice. I'm willing to believe you're not a bad person, inherently. That a lot of what you did was a direct result of being off medication. That the mere fact that you sought medication is proof enough that you don't like what you are when you're off it, and want to be a better person. But I need to know...how do you get people to do whatever you want?" Claire leaned back in her chair and continued chewing, and once she was half finished, she set her donut down on the little sheet it'd come wrapped in on the table and sighed. "...I've already told you...you promised people things you can't give them," Claire said. "I know that, and I...I know that that's a real honest answer, but how did you do it so thoroughly, where they never question when they're finally getting what they want? How did you get them to be so loyal?" Agent Siskel asked, and Claire cocked her head, her red curls bouncing lightly. "Well," Claire said, clearing her throat, "and perhaps this is different for everyone but...people want to be lead. Oh sure, you have those outliers who are true independents, and those folks who claim they want to be individuals, but the gods honest truth comes down to the incontrovertible fact that really people want to be told what to do. They want to not have to be repsonsible for their lives or decisions or actions. Take religion, for example, okay?" Claire leaned forward and cupped her hands, Agent Siskel now fully engrossed as Claire continued. "I mean, religion offers people the most ridiculous shit you can imagine, shit you can't even prove, and yet people follow it blindly," Claire said, "yet I'm out here offering people tangible rewards. Attainable things. Things that they could theoretically be given if they follow me. Things I actually fully intended to eventually give them. But religious ferver? That's a whole different story altogether, man. You can't convince those people that they won't be eternally rewarded because they're so desperate to think their lives mean something in the grand scheme of the universe that they're willing to completely overlook or outright ignore glaring plot holes and logic gaps all at the hope, not guarantee, HOPE, that they'll eventually be given what they want, and not even when they're ALIVE." Agent Siskel nodded. Claire made some excellent points. Claire leaned back in her chair, picked the remainder of her donut back up and finished it, then spoke again. "So," Claire said, mouthful of donut, "how hard is it to get people to be loyal to you? Not very. It's just that you have to be skilled enough to get them to believe it. Charisma's a hell of a drug, Agent Siskel." *** "Good show," Allie said, approaching Benny as the crowd on the street dispersed and Benny grinned upon seeing her. "Hey!" he said, "been a while! Saw your new billboard, looks spiffy." "Yeah, things aren't...things aren't bad, career wise," Allie said, "can't say the same for my personal life." "Eh, personal life is overrated," Benny said as he began to collect the money people had put in the top hat by his feet; while he stood there and counted, Benny said, "so what brings you down to my humble venue?" "Actually," Allie said, crossing her arms, "I...need your help." Benny looked up and smirked. "Is that right?" A little bit later, Allie and Benny found themselves at a little diner nearby, Allie buying him lunch, and Benny interested at her supposed proposal. While he bit into his enormous burger, Allie sipping on a milkshake, Benny couldn't help but wonder what could possibly bring a talented powerhouse like Allie Meers to ask a street magician for help. "So," Benny said, wiping his mouth on a napkin, "...what's the rub?" "Look, I wouldn't be asking this if we hadn't worked together before," Allie said, stirring her milkshake with her straw, "but the thing is...you don't do magic at a distance. You work up close and personal. There's no...screen between you and your audience. Therefore, I must conceded...you're more talented than I am." "I'm not more talented, Allie, there's varying degrees of talent, and I just happen to excel at a form that you don't, simple as that. No reason to put yourself down." Allie smiled and nodded. Benny had always been such a nice guy, and she felt bad about dragging him into her mess, but she desperately needed help. "Well, flattery aside," Allie said, the both of them laughing as she continued, "I...I need advice. I need to know how you convince people something in front of their eyes isn't real." "Well," Benny said, "one of the keys to doing magic in general, as I'm sure you're well aware, is misdirection, but there's also the fact that you have to convince them that what they're seeing is real and hopefully well before you pull off the illusion, because that faith in its reality will carry them through the obviousness that it isn't. I'm doing just that, but at a much closer scale to their eyes. Become their friend, not someone doing a trick. The trick is secondary in my situation. I'm there having a conversation, I just happen to be doing magic." Allie nodded, sipping some more of her milkshake as Benny shook his scruffy oak brown hair and rubbed his hand over his light stubble. "So...you're saying I have to befriend whoever it is that I'm conversing with in order to get them to trust me enough to not question the unreality of the trick?" Allie asked, and Benny snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Bingo." "...I suck at making friends," Allie said, causing Benny to laugh. *** "Were you popular when you were a kid?" Agent Siskel asked, sipping her cup of coffee she'd brought for herself, the other cup sitting in front of Claire. "Not particularly," Claire said, "which is why it was so challenging to hone my skills at getting people to trust me. But if you try hard enough at something, for a long enough period of time, and you care enough about it...eventually you'll master it. Why do you ask?" "Because you strike me as a very popular person," Agent Siskel said. "You're just saying that cause I led a cult," Claire said, making Agent Siskel chuckle and nod. "Fair," Agent Siskel said, "but you mentioned charisma being a hell of a drug. How does one develop charisma without being popular?" "That's an excellent question, and I wish I had an equally excellent answer for you," Claire said, leaning back and picking her own cup up, taking a long drink from it before sighing and adding, "the truth is, while you can learn to lie, and learn to make people like you because being fake isn't hard...you can't learn to be charismatic. That's something you either have or don't. I didn't know I was charismatic until I came to lead. But it's not something I'd wish on anyone. Being charismatic is...awful. It leads you to believe that you're better than others, that you can get away with anything, and it's...it's dangerous." Agent Siskel nodded, listening. She hadn't heard Claire be this thoughtful or open about her ideas about identity before, and she could see now, being back on medication provided by the state while she was incarcerated, what an intelligent and interesting woman she actually was when she was stable. "...trust me, being charismatic is what ruined me," Claire said, sighing, "that isn't to say I'm not a bad person, because I am, admittedly. I won't deny that. I also won't say that I'm not a bad person when I'm on medication. If you're a bad person, you're a bad person, regardless of your medicated state. Sure, medication keeps me more or less off the path of being bad, but only because I'm stuck in this prison. If I were not here...I couldn't guarantee that, even on medication, I wouldn't be bad. I'm not saying I'd continue to go around murdering, but...I'm certainly not an angel." "Nobody is," Agent Siskel said, shrugging, "that's the most damaging thing that media has really done to our psyche and our viewpoints about morality. It's convinced us that there's just good and evil. Cops vs robbers. Cowboys vs Indians. In reality, there's no one perfectly good or bad side, everything is gray. Sometimes people do bad things for good reasons, and sometimes people do bad things...because they're bad people. It just varies. Did you do a bad thing? Yes. Do you feel remorseful for it? Certainly seems so. But that doesn't make you evil. In fact, I'd be willing to say that the mere fact you feel remorse is proof positive that you're not evil. Evil people don't feel remorse. They feel pride in their evilness." Claire nodded, listening carefully as she took another long drink from her coffee cup, then reached back into the box and pulled out a bear claw and took a big bite of it, chewing momentarily before swallowing and speaking again. "And what if you're wrong?" Claire asked. "What do you mean?" Agent Siskel said. "What if someone convinced you they were doing things for the right reasons, but in reality they were just evil," Claire said, "what would you feel then, Agent Siskel?" Agent Siskel leaned back in her chair and exhaled, thinking. "...I guess then I'd have to reevaluate how I judge people," she said, "but I like to think I'm pretty good at gauging folks." "Well, you seem to know me well enough to know I like donuts," Claire said, mouthful of bear claw. "Please, everyone likes donuts. An affinity to pastries isn't a character trait," Agent Siskel said, both of them laughing. *** Molly opened her front door, only to find Benny and Allie on her porch. Molly sighed, rolled her eyes and stepped aside, allowing them to enter. As they entered, Benny, hands in his coat pockets, whistled as he turned around in the living room and admired her home. Allie took Molly by the arm and tugged her a little ways into the kitchen, lowering her voice. "Who is this guy?" Molly asked, and Allie glanced over her shoulder at Benny, still taking in Molly's domicile. "He's someone I did magic with on and off for a bit," Allie said, "you're gonna use him to help build Tony's vault. Nobody but us is gonna know he's involved." "And why am I gonna use him?" Molly asked. "Because he's an expert at up close magic," Allie said, "and right now, we need that. Because we're gonna build a backdoor into it." Molly nodded slowly, unsure of what exactly it was Allie was planning, but she smiled and walked back to the living room, extending her hand. "Hi there, I'm Molly," she said. *** If there was one thing Agent Siskel had never expected Claire Discroll to be, it was honest. She'd dealt with so many people in her line of work who'd lied to her face, who'd sworn up and down that they were telling the truth, who stuck to their guns regardless of the mountain of evidence to the contrary...she was expecting that with Claire, and for a while, Claire also did that. But now, having spent a bit of one on one time with her, she could see that Claire was speaking openly and honestly with her, giving her the information she really needed and wanted, and some she didn't even realize she could use. "So, if I might ask something a bit personal," Agent Siskel said. "I'm a Scorpio," Claire replied, making Agent Siskel laugh. "No, uh...not...not that," Agent Siskel said, tapping at the lid of her coffee cup, "no, um...what makes someone become a cult leader? Because you have to understand, I've dealt primarily with blue collar criminals or outright murderers. But you're nuanced. You're something unique to my line of work. I guess I'm just curious how a seemingly otherwise normal woman like yourself becomes entrenched in something like this." Claire sighed and sat back in her chair, folding her arms as she looked down at the table. "...as cliche as it sounds, it all goes back to my parents," Claire said, "not to be a trope, but maybe had they treated me a little differently, I wouldn't have acted out the way I had, and I wouldn't be here right now. But I suppose when people control your every move, it only makes sense that you'd want to eventually usurp them and have that control for yourself, even over others." "...so...what happened? How'd this all get started?" Agent Siskel, and Claire smiled. "I made my bed one morning," Claire said, and Agent Siskel got a confused look on her face as Claire divulged her origins. |
ABOUT
Allie Meers is what she dreamed of being since she was a little girl...a successful Vegas magician. The only problem now is she can't make all her problems disappear; Allie grapples with her strained relationship, crippling addictions and FBI agents on her tail, all while trying to stay at the top of her career. Archives
December 2023
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