We search in silence, wearing gloves. Fortunately, it fits in with the janitor act. I dust a little as I go, just to make our cover credible. Tentrite has every award she ever won on display. A few statues litter her bookshelves-trophies from a volleyball championship in college. I’m surprised she doesn’t have ones from middle and high school as well. I dust while rolling my eyes.
Charlie searches the desk. When I pass close to him, he’s meddling with the phone.
“You’re bugging the phone?”
“Yeah.” He shows me the tiny patch. “New issue to field agents.”
“Won’t she recognize it?”
“Only if she thinks to look. Which hopefully won’t happen for a few days. That’s all we need.” He sounds so confident I believe him.
“What about her files?”
“Nothing of note.” His face changes. “Someone’s coming. Get in position.”
Heart pounding, I grab a window wand and a bottle of cleaner. Dune ducks behind the desk-I guess it would seem weird to have two janitors in one office. I keep my face turned to the glass. My hands shake so hard, I almost drop the bottle-twice-before spritzing the window. The wiper clatters on the glass.
Steady, Annabel. You got this. Is it weird that my inner cheerleader sounds like Charlie?
I listen hard for footsteps and finally hear them down the hall. Charlie must have super spy senses to pick up on such a slight noise. I guess that’s why he’s a field agent and I’m not.
I tune everything out and focus on being the best one-night janitor ever. I spray more cleanser and get into a rhythm-wipe, wipe, spray, wipe, wipe, spray. It’s almost soothing, and it keeps my attention until Charlie stands up.
“All right,” he says. “They’re gone.”
“About time.” I let my arms drop, limp with the strain of acting normal. I’ve been cleaning the same spot on the window over and over. If I had to play janitor much longer, Agent Tentrite would be walking in tomorrow to a hole in her window. “Who are all these weirdos working late?”
“You’re one to talk,” Charlie snorts as he continues searching the file cabinet. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”
I feel a pang remembering how many times I talked about doing Disneyland with Sarah and Grady but never really planned anything. No, I haven’t done anything fun since… I don’t know. Elementary school?
I force a smile. “This week actually. I’ll have you know I had a relaxing stay in a cabin in the woods.”
“Really? Sounds creepy.”
I have a snappy comment ready when I remember the giant wolf that tried to get inside. I swallow, my stomach flip-flopping in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that I’m rifling through the papers on my boss’s desk.
“It wasn’t so bad. Except for this annoying guy who kept hanging around while I was trying to relax.” I glance over and see a shadow of a smile on Charlie’s face.
“Annoying guy? Could be trouble.”
“I think I can handle him.”
“I think he won’t know what hit him.”
I turn back to my search. My pulse is high, my blood humming with happiness. Adrenaline has hit, and I’m not nervous anymore. Just… giddy.
Either that or I’m falling in love with Charlie, the super spy.
He crouches and opens a file cabinet door. “Bingo. Found the safe.”
I peer over his shoulder at the black box that looks like it means business. “Can you crack it?”
“Fingerprint and voice recognition,” he indicates the fingerprint pad, and I slump.
“Damn.”
“Hang on. Don’t give up yet,” he murmurs and reaches into his overalls. “Otis gave us a few gifts.” He pulls a black cloth over his finger and shows me the pad on the end.
“Her fingerprint?”
“Lifted fresh this morning.” He presses his cloth covered finger down on the pad and waits for the beep before lifting the finger to his lips to keep me quiet. His left hand produces another long and slender silver device. When he hits the button, Agent Tentrite’s voice states her full name clearly.
I hold my breath until the safe clicks open.
“Jackpot,” Charlie mutters. He pulls files out by the handful, setting some aside, giving the rest to me.
In silence, we page through everything. Charlie stops me once or twice, closing the cabinet door when he thinks he hears someone coming. I obey even though I never hear a thing. He really does have super spy senses.
The clock above our heads ticks on as we sift through the files. I hand each one back as I’m done with it, and Charlie replaces it carefully in the safe. Leave it to him to know exactly how it was organized.
His breath catches for a second, and I raise my head. “Find something?”
“Nope.”
Drat. “I guess it’s too much to expect a file marked Conspiracy, Do Not Read.”
Charlie’s lips quirk. “That’d be convenient. Somehow I think your boss is more circumspect.”
But then I see one file stuffed inside another file. My heart quickens, fingers tremble as I yank it out. My gasp makes Charlie turn.
“It’s my dad’s,” I confirm. I want to stuff it in our janitor trash can, run to a better lit room and read it.
“Here,” Charlie grabs the contents of another file and switches them with my dad’s.
“Will that fool her?”
“With a little luck.” Charlie tosses the file into the trash can and hands the trash bag to me. “A few days is all we need. Come on.” We slip out of the office.
“Hey,” a male voice booms. A guy in a rumpled suit and prematurely wrinkled face walks toward us with squeaky shoes.
I give a little shriek and knock the mop off the cart. “Oh! Um, what?”
“Since when do janitors work in pairs?”