Page 51 of Lion's Share
Well, self-recriminations wouldn’t get him very far, so instead he concentrated on finding a pair of jeans that were clean enough to wear but not so pristine that he’d have to worry about getting them dirty while he was out on the trail. He’d wondered if Sidney was still going to open late today, considering she hadn’t gotten to the pet store until almost noon the day before, but he supposed she’d decided to stick with the schedule most of her customers expected.
Once he was dressed, he picked up his backpack, shoved his phone in his jacket pocket, and headed over to Sidney’s house. When she opened the door, she was similarly dressed, her long brown hair pulled into a scrunchie the way she always seemed to wear it when she was venturing out into the woods.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as she got a good look at his face.
“A whole lot,” Ben said, then dug his phone out of his pocket. “I may have just accidentally invited the entire scientific community to study our interdimensional portal problem.”
He handed the phone to her, and the friendly pink in her cheeks paled as she gazed down at the email from Marjorie Tran. Sidney appeared to read through it twice, her expression growing more worried with each pass.
“She seriously wants to publish this?” she asked at last as she gave the phone back to him. “Even after you asked her to keep everything confidential?”
“Academic research doesn’t work that way,” Ben said, even as he did his best to keep the frustration out of his voice. In a way, he couldn’t really blame Marjorie, because he was fairly certain he would have made the same decision if he’d been in a similar position while writing his dissertation. Sidney — even though she’d been working toward a very challenging degree herself — most likely didn’t understand how cutthroat the academic world could be. “When you find something this significant, the pressure to publish is enormous. Career-making discoveries don’t stay secret.”
They’d been moving slowly toward the living room as they were speaking, and Sidney sank onto the sofa as soon as she got near. “So…what do we do? Can you call Marjorie and explain why she can’t publish?”
Ben chuckled, but he knew there was no humor in the sound. “And tell her what? That Silver Hollow has an interdimensional portal that’s affecting electromagnetic fields? That shadow stalkers are causing power outages? She’d either think I was having a mental breakdown, or she’d want to study it even more closely.”
Sidney frowned, delicately arched brows pulling together. “Then we need to find another way to stop her.”
Crazy as the notion seemed, now Ben wondered if that was even the best approach. “Do we?” he asked quietly. “Maybe this is exactly what Silver Hollow needs — scientific scrutiny that forces everything out into the open.”
Sidney stared at him as if he was high on Humboldt County’s number-one export. “You can’t be serious.”
“Think about it,” Ben said, even though some part of him still couldn’t believe he was considering this. Possibly, he was stepping into the role of devil’s advocate, and yet he knew it was a good idea for them to consider all the angles before they made any real decisions. “Right now, we’re dealing with federal agents who think we’re hiding something, a mayoral candidate who’s using our problems for political gain, and interdimensional creatures that we barely understand. Maybe having some legitimate scientists involved would actually help.”
“Or maybe it would turn Silver Hollow into a circus,” Sidney returned, her chin now set at a stubborn angle. “You think a bunch of researchers with equipment and theories are going to be able to handle shadow stalkers? You think they’re going to respect the fact that some things are better left alone?”
She had a point. Ben had spent enough time in academic circles to know that scientific curiosity rarely prioritized discretion or local concerns. If atmospheric physicists descended on Silver Hollow en masse, they’d want to measure and document everything, regardless of the consequences.
“So…what do you suggest?” he asked.
Sidney was quiet for a long moment, fingers tapping against the knees of her jeans. Finally, she said, “Call her. Try to buy us some time. Tell her you need to verify the data or something — anything to delay publication until we can figure out a better solution.”
Getting them some breathing space sounded like a great idea. He began to pull out his phone again, then paused. “I’ll do what I can. But Marjorie’s not going to wait forever, especially if she thinks this could make her career.”
“Then we’d better come up with a plan fast,” Sidney said.
By three-thirty that afternoon, Ben was beginning to think their morning hike had been the high point of the day. They’d found what looked suspiciously like griffin paw prints near the old logging road — massive impressions with distinct claw marks that no local wildlife could have made — but otherwise, the woods had been peaceful. Sidney had seemed more relaxed out there, away from the mounting pressures in town, and for a few hours, Ben had almost been able to forget about Marjorie’s email and the looming threat of Dr. Rosenthal’s arrival.
Well, until he spotted a convoy of black SUVs pulling into Silver Hollow’s main parking area behind City Hall.
He’d been walking back from Paper & Quill, the local stationery store and copy shop — one of his thumb drives had croaked on him, and he’d gone out for a replacement — when the vehicles caught his attention. Three identical SUVs with government plates, followed by a white panel van that looked like it must be carrying some serious equipment. As he watched, at least eight people in dark clothing emerged from the vehicles, moving with the kind of brisk efficiency that suggested they definitely weren’t from around here.
A woman with short-cropped gray hair, similar to Eliza Cartwright’s blonde pixie cut but not nearly as flattering, stepped out of the lead SUV and adjusted her wire-framed glasses. Even from a distance, Ben could see how she issued rapid instructions to the other agents as they began unloading cases of electronic equipment from the van.
Dr. Sonya Rosenthal, he presumed.
Ben pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Sidney.
Rosenthal’s team just arrived. Multiple vehicles, lots of equipment. You might want to close the store early.
Her response came back almost immediately.
How many people?
At least eight. Looks like they’re setting up for some kind of big operation.
Crap. I’ll try to get out of here by four, but it might be tough because I didn’t start until noon.
