I filled the kettle and put it back on the stove, then stood over the sink, running cold water over my wrists. I thought about splashing some on my face but I didn’t want to use the kitchen hand towel to dry it off. My hands shook a little bit less as I poured the tea leaves into the pot, and I managed to get them in without spilling. The kettle whistled.

  “Miss Kelly?”

  I jumped. Trembling, I put the kettle back down on the stove top. “I’m sorry Mr. Left. I know I’m running behind.” I couldn’t control the shake in my voice. “I didn’t mean to run off. Stenway needed help with something, he was trying to find that doctor that got sick and…” I trailed off as Mr. Left held a piece of paper up in front of my face.

  He pushed it into my hand. “I think this is yours.” He cocked his head at me. “I thought you and Stenway were still fighting. I didn’t expect you to make up so quickly. You’re both incredibly stubborn. Driven would be a more correct term, though, if tonights events are any indication.” He stepped towards the stove and flicked off the range. “I had barely gotten the doctor all secured before you got there. I’m impressed that you found out about the stairs.” His green eyes stared into mine.

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I could barely breathe. I couldn't move.

  “I’m sorry that you got involved in this whole thing.” Gently he took my arm and guided me to one of the kitchen chairs. “I knew you were sharp, the first time I met you. Comes from your parents. Wonderful people. Your father is particularly brilliant, and your mother, determined. You have her eyes, you know?” He pulled my hands together behind the chair and fastened them, then knelt down and tied each of my ankles to a leg of the chair. “Someone will find you soon.” Suddenly, he jerked his head away, then waved a hand in front of his face, as if he was wiping something away. He stooped to pick up a glove that had fallen out of his pocket.

  “Sorry about that. I just…” He trailed off, staring off into the distance. I watched him, extremely interested. I didn’t feel like I could look away, either. Slowly his eyes focused on me again, and he frowned. “Interesting. You work very quickly, Miss Kelly. Those little friends of yours are on the move. I have to go.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a vibrant green handkerchief, the same color as his eyes, then fixed it firmly around my mouth. “Someone will find you sooner or later.” He pushed me and my chair into the broom closet, and shut the door. I heard his feet go towards the light switch, the gentle “snick” and then darkness. The kitchen door shut and his footsteps receded.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. No sense in getting upset. I decided to wait until I heard people noises, before I started trying to cause a ruckus. Tentatively I wobbled my chair from side to side. Good. That could get someone’s attention. I leaned back, closed my eyes, listening, and started to think. I’d been stupid enough to drop my note somewhere, probably on the stairs, and Mr. Left found it. That tipped him off. I figured he’d left the house to go help Ms. H. That worried me; the boys would be able to harass a little old lady, like Stenway said, but they'd be no match for a Super.

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  Villain, I corrected myself silently.

  How’d he know me and Stenway had made up? Unless he was connected with Stenway somehow. It would be hard for him not to be, them sharing the house like this. Then I wondered about the glove in his pocket. It hadn't been his. Definitely a woman's.

  My eyes flicked open. Not that it helped, now, but I had a new theory. What if Mr. Left, or any clairvoyants, had to have an item that belonged to the person they wanted to read? Kind of like a bloodhound, they could only see what the person sees if they have something that the person touched. Maybe there was something to Peach's theory about things that people touched being able to convey emotions to a clairvoyant. Boy would he eat that up. If he made it out of this. If any of us did.

  I was so deep in thought that I almost didn’t hear the noises at the door. Finally I heard the tapping, someone gently knocking on the outside door. Slowly it creaked open, and I started rocking my chair like crazy.

  “Tyler?”

  I rocked harder. Footsteps came towards the door, and it slid back with a squeak. It was dark, and I could barely see the person’s face.

  “Tyler? Wait.” Whoever it was ran towards the door, and flipped on the switch.

  I almost started crying when Sydney dragged me and the chair out of the closet. Quickly she untied the gag. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “How’d you get here? How did you find me?”

  Sydney worked feverishly to untie the knots. “I got a ‘phone from one of your little friends. They were trying to get ahold of you, and they didn’t know where to find you.” She knelt down by my feet. “He sounded really worried, so I rushed right over.” Syd pulled me to my feet and hugged me. “Are you okay? What even happened to you? Has this happened before? Oh I was so worried.” She held on and didn’t let go.

  “Syd, we have to do something.” I started to tell her the story, then stopped short. Something was missing. I looked at the table closely. My hat. My hat was gone. Mr. Left must have taken it. “I have to get out of here. You need to stay and find Stenway.”

  “Tyler, what is going on?”

  “Find Stenway.” I was already headed towards the door, pulling on my coat. “Don’t let Ms. Higley get to the tower.”

  “Tyler, you can’t leave!”

  “I’ll explain later! Just… do what I said!”

  I ran out the door, pulling my coat tight. I stared at the ground as I walked away, careful not to focus on anything. If Mr. Left had my hat, he could see what I was seeing. Theoretically. But enough crazy stuff had happened today that I was willing to believe it. He'd already know that the clock was ticking, if he could see what I was seeing.

  Jokes on him. I was headed home to find the biggest, most boring book on Dad’s bookshelf.