"Ms. Sinn, I’m guessing."
She wore a floral-printed breezy sundress, a wide straw hat over her softly curled hair, and oversized shades over her eyes. With the light streaming from the narrow windows, her bronzed skin practically glowed. Her gloved hand held the handle of a perfectly ordinary suitcase as if she was about to check in.
"That's correct, Natasha. Pleased to meet you."
I had a hundred questions to ask: where she met Mick, how long she knew him, what their relationship was. But I held my tongue because I realized it didn't matter. Mick was gone, and he made one request of me before he died.
I walked behind the clerk counter, selected a keycard, and swiped it through the scanner before handing it to her.
"You'll find what you're looking for in room 2046. I found an entrance to a hidden room inside. Seemed like a good place to keep it."
Ms. Sinn accepted the card with an enigmatic smile. I knew then that she already knew about the secret room. I wondered what else she knew.
She removed her sunglasses, looking at me with large, luminous brown eyes. "I know quite a lot, Natasha."
I stifled a gasp. "You can …?
She laughed at my expression. "No, I can't read your mind. But I can usually predict what a person is thinking, especially when it's all over their face. You should come upstairs with me. I rarely have a chance to spend time with people anymore."
I hesitated but decided she was right. We had only one thing that connected us, and that alone was worth a conversation. I felt decidedly out of my league when we walked to the elevator. Ms. Sinn was the model of grace and stylishness, evident in every elegant movement, every facial expression. I was in yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt, my hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail. We couldn't have been more different, but we shared a bond whether I wanted to admit it or not.
The doors closed, and the elevator silently ascended. Ms. Sinn glanced at me, an amused expression on her face.
"No need to be nervous, Natasha. If you're wondering about my relationship with Mick, it was strictly professional."
My face reddened. "That's … not what I was thinking at all."
"Ah. My mistake." Her smile indicated that she didn't make mistakes, but gratefully she didn't press the issue. "So, what do you think of the new city?"
"I’m still getting used to things. All these people, the new faces — it feels like a zoo exhibit sometimes. People coming from all over to stare and point."
"It's the newest craze right now. A lost city appearing from out of the blue is not only newsworthy, it's the distraction this nation needs right now."
"Why do you say that?"
"Tensions are thick between Territories at the moment. Too many secrets, too much bad blood. Rebellion is mounting, vigilantism on the rise. You'll see. It will only be a matter of time before this Haven is divided into warring factions: the mobsters, the UH spies, the Southern aristocrats. It will be something, I'll tell you that."
I eyed her curiously. "How could you know that?"
"Simple mathematics. I ran the statistics and numbers never lie."
The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open, allowing us to enter the hallway and walk toward the room. Ms. Sinn chatted as if I were an old friend.
"What are your plans now, Natasha? It looks as though you're planning on staying in the city."
"I am. It's still home, even if it's changing by the day. But I like the changes. At least I know it's real. And I want to contribute to the city. Do something worthwhile, something that makes a difference."
"I'm sure you'll get your job back if you're patient, Natasha. The Council will have to mobilize a force soon, and they'll be looking for bright, young, exemplary officers. The question is: do you want to be a police officer in a city that will quickly become a quagmire of conflict and power struggles?"
I couldn't help but smile. "I remember something Mick said once: 'you can't expect to clean up the streets without getting your hands dirty.'"
"He was a man of simple effectiveness, that’s for sure. It's too bad he won't be around to keep an eye on things. He was never one for red tape and bureaucratic restrictions."
I opened Mick's old room, grateful for it being renovated, repainted, and completely clear of any traces of his presence. It wasn't hard to do — he rarely spent more than a few hours at a time there anyway. The closet revealed the doorway to the hidden room. I activated the opening mechanism via the bio-recognition software I installed earlier.
"Had to install a new door. The old one was damaged like someone broke out from the inside."
"Yes, an angry Wildcat will do that." Sinn's eyes fixed on the storage case on the center table of the brightly lit lab. Without ceremony, she picked it up and stored it inside the suitcase as if it was a simple trinket. In the city, she'd appear as just another tourist enjoying her stay. It was the perfect way to escape notice.
"What exactly is that, anyway? Why is it so important?"
"You might say it's something ahead of its time." She smiled as if at a hidden joke. "Given everything that happened, do you really want to know more?"
"No." I was surprised by the feeling of relief that came over me. Whatever Mick had been involved in, it spanned decades of his life and spawned the deadliest of enemies. He never wanted that side of his life to touch me, and in the end, I finally understood why.
She gripped the handle of the suitcase. "Well, it's certainly been a pleasure, Natasha. I can see why Mick cared so much about you. I'd love to sit and chat, but unfortunately, time is not of the essence."
"I understand."
She smiled, studying my face. "You have a question."
I blushed at how easily she read my thoughts. "What you said earlier about the police force. Why bring that up?"
She took a look around the tech center. "I might be stepping outside of boundaries, but I can't help but notice that you're an independently wealthy person with connections all over the city and access to a highly advanced command hub with prototype systems. If you investigate this place thoroughly, you'll find several helpful tools a resourceful person might find useful in making a difference, should you be so inclined."
My eyes widened. "But … this stuff isn't even mine."
"It is now. All of it responsive to your bio-signature, able to be reconfigured and customized however you wish."
"Why … are you telling me this?"
Another mysterious smile. "Just trying to help, Natasha. You have all the time in the world to think about it."
I was so distracted that I barely noticed when she left. I stayed in the chamber for a long time, thinking about my life. Thinking about Mick, the only mainstay I'd known for a long time. He was gone, but I still have to go on. In a way, my life has only just started, and the road is wide open. It's time for me to choose what I want for myself.
A few weeks later, and it's done. I found a familiar building for sale in the old Flats neighborhood and purchased it. Formerly owned by Ms. Kilby by way of Mick Trubble. It isn't much to look at, but that's the point. Best to be inconspicuous when you're in the business of other people's business. The old name has been replaced by a new one, something with a nice ring to it while paying tribute to the ones that came before.
NATTY AND TRUBBLE INVESTIGATORS
And blinking beneath it is another sign, a (hopefully) temporary one.
NOW HIRING
Looking at my new business makes me smile. If Mick was here, I knew what he would say: he hated it. But deep inside, I know he'd be proud of me. Not for trying to follow in his footsteps — I have no intention of trying to shoot trouble for a living. But for taking the lessons I learned from him and Poddar and molding them into my own life. Because there are always cases that slip through the cracks, and people with problems that no one else can solve. And if I can do something to help, I'll be making a difference. Not just for them, but for me too. Like a wise man told me: I needed to find what I wanted to do and do it.