The Doyennes' Worldly Convergence

Chapter 7 - Five Ws, One H

Cordelia

I exited the old brick building where The Newberry Review has been located since it started in 1890 and began walking towards the community parking garage with my briefcase tucked under my arm. I had a list of places I needed to go and people that I had to talk to for work, but then I had my own list as well.

Working for Jacqueline Newberry wasn't bad, but it was still the media, and they all had their ways of overdramatizing everything to make a sale. I completely understood why Harlee didn't want to have anything to do with this scene anymore, and took a more relaxing route. The only real perk for me was that I could do my own research while getting paid to do theirs.

I never even considered working for a newspaper company when I was first fired from the station, but Allen really did a great job of making sure that no other station would hire me. If only they knew what a lying slime bag he really was.

The sound of fire sirens going off made me come to a stop and hold my briefcase closer to my side as I prepared to take off in whatever direction the story was. I started looking around in hopes of seeing any sign of where to go, not paying attention to the dark blue sedan that had pulled up next to me.

"Get in," Micah's familiar voice calmly instructed.

I didn't bother turning to look at him, "Officer MacIntyre .... I ....." I was too focused on the sounds of the fire trucks screaming through the city to pay him much attention.

"It's Lorne, I'm off duty, now get in," he said with a little more authority, sending a tingling feeling throughout my body.

My feet betrayed me and carried me over to the passenger side of his car. Traitors. The both of them. As I got inside, I couldn't help but feel guilty over the fact that I spent every possible moment I could to disprove everything that he had told Harlee and I. Harlee, on the other hand, seemed to have found her new best friend in the handsome police officer ..... yeah, I know, I'm jealous. They bond over vampires, werewolves, and ghosts, while I think they're both delusional.

"Miss Craig ..."

"You can call me Cordelia," I hypocritically told him as he quickly drove off while I buckled my seat belt.

Micah let out a sigh, "Miss Craig, the fire ...."

My eyes widened as I turned to stare at Micah's somber face, immediately understanding why he stopped and told me to get in.

"Harlee," I whispered her name as I contained the panic I felt for the only friend I actually had.

"I don't know anything yet, I'm going over to help out any way I can and make sure I get answers. I saw you, and, well, I didn't want you finding out on your own. Have you heard anything from her?" Micah took a few sharp turns as he made his way closer to the Blavelt Funeral Home.

I quickly opened my briefcase and pulled out my cell phone, feeling stupid for not thinking about checking my phone myself. No missed calls, no voicemail. I hit Harlee's speed dial number, but it didn't even ring, the call went straight to her voicemail.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat before I took a few deep breaths to calm myself as Micah came to a stop far enough away to not hinder the firefighters as they battled the blaze that consumed the large old house.

My eyes darted around, hoping to see Harlee and the Blavelts safely standing outside, but I didn't see anyone that I recognized, and I struggled to contain my emotions.

Come on Cordelia, get your sh.it together. You're never going to find anything out if you're an emotional blob.

I placed my right hand on the door handle, but before I had a chance to open it, Micah placed a large, dark hand on my left arm to stop me.

"Wait here. Let me ...."

"The f***k I am," I spat out with a little more attitude than I intended as I pulled my arm away from him and got out of his car without even sending a second glance his way.

I opened my briefcase as I walked, and pulled out my pad and pen as my eyes landed on a group of around 20 people who were standing nearby and talking among themselves. I just knew they were who I needed to talk to.

I forced a smile as I made my way over to them, "Excuse me ...."

"The police already talked to us," one of the women blurted out.

I was thankful that Micah was off duty and that we didn't pull up in his patrol car, "I'm not the police. I'm Cordelia Craig and I work for The Newberry Review. Would any of you like to make a statement as to what happened? I won't take any names, so you won't have to worry about what you tell me being connected to you."

"Didn't you used to be on TV?" one of the men asked. Great, this wasn't the direction I wanted this to go.

"That's not really what's important here, is it? You all look like you have something to say and no one to say it to. Well, this is your chance. I'm listening, but not for long," I smiled as I stood there, ready to take notes as soon as someone started talking.

"Zombies," another woman quickly blurted out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," I said, wanting to make sure that I heard her correctly.

"They kept zombies in there," the same female voice came from behind everyone.

A shorter man with premature gray hair who looked to be in his late 30s rolled his brown eyes behind his glasses, "They didn't keep zombies in there! They were demons that possessed the bodies of the dead!"

I raised a brow and turned towards him with interest, "What makes you say that?"

"Because I graduated with one," he replied in a serious tone.

Another man with brown hair and eyes playfully slapped the gray-haired man on the back of the head, "You dropped out! Why are you lying to the lady? You got into the magic butter this morning, didn't you?!"

Great. They're all high ....

The gray-haired man gave me a look like he was begging me not to leave, "The butter tastes good on my blueberry muffins and helps me relax, that's it. Look, I know what I've seen! Jennifer has gone in and out of that building, and she hasn't aged since high school. Her and I hung out all the time. I KNOW her! We used to get drunk and high, and, well, f***k. My parents found out and sent me away, and I had heard that she became addicted to some serious sh.it. I always wondered what happened to her, and when I came back home I started looking for her. One day, I saw her walk into the Blavelts'. I thought I was seeing things, so I made an effort to bump into her. She claimed that she was a distant cousin of Jennifer's and that her name was Michelle. But I KNOW that it was Jennifer. She hasn't fu.cking aged, and you never forget your first f***k. Good or bad, you never forget."

"Why do you think she's a demon?" I asked as I continued to take notes on everything he was telling me.

"Lady, did you miss the part where I said that she hasn't aged? I can see why you were fired from ....."

I quickly interrupted his smart-assed comment, "What about the owners and any of the workers? Did any of you see anyone escape?"

"Not from the front, they locked everything up tight to keep us out, but from the back ...."

I lifted my head and quickly looked for the shy male's voice, "What did you see?"

A boy with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, who looked to be in his teens, cleared his throat, "I, uh, well, I was looking for an easy way to break in because I know that the bodies are kept in the back. I saw a man carrying a woman. He, uh, he jumped over the fence with her."

The group of people started talking among themselves again, but I wasn't done with my questioning. I grabbed the kid's arm and pulled him closer to me so that we could hear each other better, "Can you describe them?"

His face burned beet red, and I knew he was flustered by my touch, but thankfully he didn't disappoint me, "I don't know, maybe about your age? The man was tall, with brown hair, well-built. The woman looked like she was hurt, long brown hair, a little on the heavier side ...."

"Thanks kid!" I blurted out as I left them to go look for Micah.

I found him talking to one of the paramedics who was on standby, and quickly walked up to him and grabbed his hand, leading him back towards his car, "She got out ...."

"How do you know?" Micah asked as he let me continue to lead him away.

For whatever reason, I didn't bother letting go of Micah's hand, "Some kid told me he saw her escape with a guy who jumped over the security fence with her. She's alive, but now we need to figure out who has her, why he took her, and where she is ....."