Page 43 of Be A Detective, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said

My head swirled as I tried to keep one eye on Sam and the children and one on this—this being. “So, um…Groot. You kidnapped all those children by pretending to be school staff, didn’t you?”

He shrugged almost coyly. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. That part was easy-peasy, as you Earth people say. I morphed into them, hid my scent, coaxed the children to me, transported them here where I’d decided to set up my lab, for obvious reasons. But I did put back the people I used. Good as new. Honest. I can morph into almost anyone or anything. Wanna see?”

“No!” I shouted, then bit my lip. “No, thank you. I want you to finish your story, seeing as you’re such a fan of them. So, Neerie caught you, didn’t she? She took your picture, and she figured out you were the one behind the stolen school supplies?”

“Yeaaah,” Groot drawled, crossing his gangly arms over his thin chest. “She did. She’s not as crazy as everyone thinks, you know. I agree, she’s insufferably bossy, but she caught me one night while I was shedding Mrs. Goodfellow’s skin to take a breather. I almost caught her. Little did I know, she could fly. How did I miss the fact that a fairy can fly, for Mars’ sake? It’s the one thing we haven’t been able to perfect—aside from our ships, that is.”

“So you caught up with her when she met with her Facebook group and snatched her from the woods?”

He shot a finger up in the air. “Bingo!” he cried cheerfully. “But that one gentleman had a dog with him on their hunt for Bigfoot—as if he really exists—and he could smell me. Darnedest thing. Anyway, I grabbed her and brought her back here. I’m sure all the PTA moms would thank me if they could. She is rather dreadful.”

I burst out laughing. To think an alien doubted the existence of Bigfoot. Hah!

Groot cocked his head. “What’s so funny, Mrs. Jefferson?”

Shaking my head, I held up a hand. I think I was growing slaphappy from my lack of sleep and all these outlandish events. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Let’s get back to the problem at hand. I have more questions.”

“Of course. I’m happy to answer. Do go on.” He rolled his oddly shaped hand to indicate I should continue.

“You do realize you forgot her phone, right? She must have dropped it when you snatched her. We saw your picture.”

He shrugged his shoulders again. “So? Big deal. As if anyone was going to believe her alien theories any more than they did her conspiracy theory about poor Paul McCartney. To taint that man’s life with such a heinous rumor is unthinkable. I cherish my Abbey Road album. Besides, even you and your cohorts thought it was nuts.”

A fair statement if I ever heard one. If I made it out of this, my apology tour was going to be a long one.

“Why did you steal all those school supplies? The coloring books? The chemistry books, which I’m assuming are for my son, Sam?”

Groot tsked. “I needed to keep things tidy, of course, cleaning items were essential. Also, I wanted the children to have things they enjoyed when they were awake. What do you think I am, Mrs. Jefferson? Some kind of unfeeling animal?”

I was running out of questions. I had to do something. Anything. But what? This thing could snatch people up out of thin air.

“May I see my son? The children?”

Groot sighed. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. You have a soft heart, Mrs. Jefferson. Seeing them hooked up to all the machinery will only upset you.”

I looked over his enormous shoulder at the children, lying helpless in the beds, and strengthened my resolve. “Please,” I begged. “You’re going to kill us all anyway. What will it hurt to let me see my son?”

His sigh was one of impatience. “Oh, fine. My colleagues would laugh at me for being such a bleeding heart, but I’m almost done here. Sam finished the superfecta for me. Each of the children offer a facet of magic due to their species. All different, but combined, powerful. Little Sam gives me the last quality of magic I’ll need before taking what I’ve gathered and leaving this hellscape.” He motioned with his arm. “Go on, then. He won’t be awake, but you can do whatever you Earth people do when your time here is done.”

I let out a small sigh of relief, inching past him to run to Sam.

Do not cry, Wanda. Do not. While you gather up your child, figure out how to get everyone out of here. No tears.

But it wasn’t easy, when my baby came into full view. He was hooked up to a machine cycling his blood, draining him of the magic he excretes. Helpless to do anything.

With a quick glimpse around, I took note of all the machines whizzing and whirring, quietly buzzing. The harsh lighting overhead, the scent of fear and desperation emanating from the children, even though they were asleep.

There was a standing fan, to keep the area cool and dry, I suspected; it was terribly damp down here. It blew softly next to the stack of coloring books and bottles of bleach and cans of oxygen.

I gathered my baby up in my arms and held on for dear life, rocking him, my eyes filling with tears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw petite Neerie tied to her chair, unconscious, just as helpless as Mrs. Goodfellow, her pointy ears sagging downward. I battled my helplessness.

How would I get all of us out of here?

“It’s okay, Sammy. Mommy’s here,” I whispered, gazing at the other children. Tina Madry, Chester Godfrey, Lori Caulfield, all in the same state as my son, and it infuriated me so, my limbs shook.

As I clung to him, as I rocked him, buried my face in his shoulder, something hit me out of the blue.

Movies and my lighter.

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