| Chapter 09

"Please, have a seat."

Mr. Holmes' office was vintage. Alluring. Smelled like it, too. Tall windows were bordered with long, black curtains, tied together with gold rope. An ornate desk sat in the center of the room, made of evenly shaded mahogany wood. Even the feet holding it up were special; sculpted to appear like a lion's paw, equipped with claws, too.

I stood at the open doorway for a minute before I willed myself to walk inside. Even the chair was nice, soft to the touch. When I sat down, I focused on it. Slid my fingers along its side. Lined with purple fabric. Soft, like silk, but not the same.

What is this? Velvet?

"You, too, miss." Holmes motioned at Vera when she didn't move. He pointed at the chair to my right. "Please, sit beside him. I mean no harm."

With my hands on the armrests, thumbs rubbing against the cloth material, I glanced back at her. Even with the sunglasses on, I knew her starry eyes looked at me. Spoke to me.

Shooting her a weak smile, I patted the seat beside mine. "It's cool," I said to her. "Come on."

"Exactly." Mr. Holmes clapped his hands together before he sat on the corner of his desk. He crossed one leg over the other, folding his hand over his knee. "It's cool."

Vera didn't smile or look in his direction. But eventually, she did move, her hands hidden underneath long sweater sleeves. With a plop, she dropped down in the seat beside me. The hood covered almost every part of her head.

"Now..." Mr. Holmes tried to lean forward and observe her, but Vera didn't give him the opportunity. Clearing his throat, he turned his attention towards me. "What was the issue today? Most people who walk into the center know what they need and don't cause a commotion."

I bit the insides of my cheek.

Mr. Holmes smiled. "Judging by your behavior and your friend's—" He glanced at Vera. "Well, her timidness, I can only assume the worst. As the right hand to our delightful Mayor George, I can't sit back and just ignore this."

Right hand to the Mayor? That was where I'd seen him. He had been in the Chicago papers plenty of times.

What were the articles? I couldn't remember. But knowing that someone so high up in the city chain was willing to listen made me feel better. Perhaps taking in Vera's body language, he'd go a little easy on what I was going to tell him.

"So, now, tell me," he said. "What's happened?"

Of course, my palms would be sweaty before I even said a word. I didn't want to ruin the chair, so I rubbed them on my knees. Twice.

"Well, um," I sucked in a deep breath and held the stare of his grey eyes, "it's about the incident last night. Concerning the Pylon ship. And the fair."

Mr. Holmes tensed for a moment. His hands, which had been loose, were suddenly tight, closed in a fist. He maintained his smile, but the corner of his lip twitched. "What of it?" he asked me. "We're aware of the situation if that is what you're wondering. I'm sure the news outlets have displayed and presented multiple reports. The Pylons will be held accountable for the events of last night."

I blinked at him, listening. What he said was no different than what I heard on the morning news.

"It's the main reason as to why we have patrol vehicles around the fair. To monitor and apprehend any Pylons attempting to derail our investigation."

They're putting them in jail, too? My eyes widened. "What?"

"Oh?" Holmes sighed through his nose. "Perhaps I said too much. I only assumed the information had been shared via television. I gave permission for it."

Holding my breath, I glanced at Vera. I can't let her go to jail. This isn't her fault.

"Nonetheless," Holmes cleared his throat, "your scene downstairs was loud enough. And I've heard you. Do you have any additional information to help me solve this incident?"

"Um, well, no, not really." My eyes remained on Vera, but she hadn't lifted her head once to look at him. Or me.

He cleared his throat again. When I looked at him, he cocked a brow. "Then? Was the commotion downstairs merely to tell me what we already know?"

I rubbed my hands across my jeans again and tried not to laugh. I'd always done it when I was too nervous, or afraid. As I sat in front of him, I suddenly felt as though I could laugh and cry at the same time.

Mr. Holmes let out a small chuckle. "I am curious if you're a Pylon supporter." He lifted one hand. "Nothing against our alien neighbors, but not all of us fall in that group. And their fans can go a bit overboard in their defense. I've seen the forums roaring on the internet already. Is that what happened? You're here to defend your Pylon saviors."

"No, no," I said, now avoiding his intense stare. "It's not about Pylon support or anything. I just don't think you or anyone else have the details right. But I do."

He blinked, widened his eyes, leaned back, as if he gave me his full attention.

"Or at least I think I do?" Nervously, I bit my lip. "The news had mentioned the possibility of the ship's damage being intentional, yeah, but I wanted to tell you it was all an accident."

His eyes had opened even more. His knee bounced. Yet, he looked as though he was still listening.

So, I kept talking. "I snuck into the fair last night because I wanted to see it in person." Half lies are good. "I was walking around when it happened. Literally, all spur of the moment. No Pylons anywhere at all."

Okay, now I'm lying.

Vera moved her head slightly. I looked at her as she peered at me from the side of the hood.

"So, you were there, then?" Mr. Holmes moved off his desk and walked around towards the office chair behind it. As he sat down, he ran his fingers along the edges of the armrests; velvety gold like the chairs we sat upon.

"Uh." I focused on him as he looked at me, interrogating me with his eyes.

His smile remained. "You were at the fair when the ship's engine fell apart."

Was it the engine?

Biting my lip, I nodded. "I was."

"And there wasn't a Pylon in sight, sabotaging their own home to harm a human being?"

What sense would that make? Shaking my head, I said, "I swear, I didn't see anyone. It was an accident, had to be. I mean, vehicles break down all the time."

Mr. Holmes tilted his head. "But an alien ship is quite different, hm? None have broken down before. They've hovered over our planet for hundreds of years."

"I know, but," I shook my head, "I think if you had the city listen to the Pylons, not assume, maybe stop the news from automatically spreading that one story, then maybe..."

"Maybe what?" Mr. Holmes lifted his chin.

Vera could go home. "Maybe the tension in the city won't be so bad?"

I didn't believe myself. I knew there was friction, but it wasn't really in the city. Between humans and Pylons, sure. But the city itself? Chicago had its own problems.

"I see." Mr. Holmes traced the lines of his chair again before glancing at me, his expression softer than it'd been. "If you were there, were you hurt?" he asked me. "I see some light bruises and scrapes. At first glance, I didn't think anything of it. But, if it were the ship's doing, then I'd have to add to the list of Pylon negligence."

Quickly, I lifted my hands in defense. "No, no, it wasn't the ship. I was running and I fell. That's all."

He shook his head. "That's a nasty fall, boy..."

I nodded. "Yeah. My uncle had some Sapphire cream in his medicine cabinet. Rubbed it on a while ago. Should be better any minute now."

Mr. Holmes folded his hands together. "Sapphire. Such a lovely drug, isn't it? It's helped me on plenty of occasions. Such a shame though..." His voice trailed off.

I watched him turn his head. But I swore, out of the corner of his eye, he tried to look at Vera just one more time.

I cleared my throat to grab his attention. Focus on me. "Again, accidents happen, right? Sapphire's done good for a long time, and so have the Pylons. I think this is all just a big misunderstanding."

Mr. Holmes snapped his head up. "Oh, definitely," he said, nodding his head. Slowly. "I thank you for your honesty."

"Y-you're welcome," I stuttered. Maybe it can be this easy.

When he stood, so did I. I tapped Vera's shoulder to get her to stand, too.

"Now, last night—" Mr. Holmes reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small business card. He handed it to me with just two fingers. "—were you both there or just you?"

I thought I'd swallow my tongue. Taking his business card, I glanced at Vera. But when she remained silent, I took initiative. "No," I lied. "She was the one who texted me and made me go back home."

"Aw, how lovely." Mr. Holmes smiled at the both of us. "It's wonderful when you can have a friend you trust so well to be there for you when you need them most, hm?"

Vera and I glanced at each other as I pushed his business card into the back pocket of my jeans. We're not friends.

"Now, your name is?" Mr. Holmes straightened.

"Gustavo," I said. "Gustavo Ramirez."

"Ramirez?" Holmes blinked, observing me. "Gustavo Ramirez."

His reaction was weird, but for all I knew, this could have been how he behaved with everyone. Intrigued, polite, and curious.

I shot him a small smile. "Yes, sir."

"Well, Gustavo," as he shook his head, he motioned for us to head towards his office door, "you're free to leave. For your honesty, I'll excuse the trespassing as a wild night's mistake, just don't do it again."

Taking one step away from his desk, I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Holmes is fine." He placed his hand on his chest. "I wish you and your friend a good day."