The evening air blows gently against my face as I approach the police station. I take long breaths of it, let it cool the nervous heat in my cheeks.

I felt okay about coming here to give my statement when Aiden and I talked about it last night, but I’m starting to feel a little skittish without his steadying presence. I shouldn’t have to lie to Callejo or anyone else, just write down the story that Aiden and I told at the archives. Still, I’ve grown more and more anxious as the day has gone on. My shift at the flower shop went by in a blur, as did the drive here.

I scan the front steps for Aiden, but he’s not here yet. I linger on the paved pathway that leads to the station, waiting for him, pretending to check my phone.

“Come on, ghosts,” I say beneath my breath, shifting from foot to foot. “Report back, please…”

I didn’t summon either of them, but almost as if he heard me, Will materializes by my side.

“Hello, Jamie!”

“Oh - hey, Will!” I keep my voice quiet, turn away from the building so no one looks through the windows and sees me talking to thin air. “Thank god you’re here, dude! I was worried we’d have to go in there with no idea of what we’re walking into.”

His observant green eyes linger on my face. “Staying calm, like Kasey said?”

“Totally calm, yeah,” I answer, a bead of sweat rolling down my ribcage. “How was scoping out the station? Got some intel for us? And where’s Kasey?”

“Callejo is rewatching the security footage from the break-in at the archives, so she’s watching with him," Will explains. "She said she’d like some popcorn, if you have time to grab it for her.”

“Right, of course she would.” I let out an affectionate laugh, then bite my lip. “Did you, um. Hear anything about me or Aiden?”

“Yes." Will breaks into a reassuring smile. "You’re not considered suspects. Callejo is only being thorough, getting your statements.”

“Oh, thank god.” I let out a shaky exhale. “And you’re sure he wasn’t just saying that?”

“He said it in a closed-door meeting with his superior. They did not know that any ghosts were present.” Will shrugs his wide shoulders. “I would find that a rather unlikely moment for him to drop misinformation.”

A huge, familiar hand touches my back, and a whiff of vetiver reaches my nose. An instant wave of relief warms me from head to toe.

I turn to find Aiden there, a little out of breath, his hair wind-rumpled.

“Hi.” He leans down to pop a kiss onto my nose. “Sorry, I got out of work later than I expected. You doing alright?”

“So much better, now," I answer, leaning into the comforting heat of his body. “Will is here, too.”

Aiden pulls the glasses out of his pocket, then listens closely as Will gives him the same information he just gave me.

Aiden is visibly relieved to hear that we’re not in trouble. The worried pinch between his eyebrows disappears, and he squeezes me closer, kisses the top of my head.

“You coming in with us, Will?” he asks.

“No, I’m going directly to Callejo’s office. I’m meant to see if he’s made any progress on the case that we have not, per Kasey’s instructions.”

Aiden and I both nod at Will, and he gives us a wave before he vanishes. Aiden looks at me like he’s about to say something, but before he can, the door of the station swings open, and Callejo leans out.

“Aiden, Jamie!” he calls. "Come on in! Aren't you freezing?"

I take a deep breath as we walk up the steps, my anxiety making a bit of a comeback. We’re not suspects, but we need to keep it that way. Any nervous behavior might catch Callejo’s attention.

We follow him into the station. I’ve got some tunnel vision going from my nerves, so I don’t get a good look around. Instead, I get a general sense of the place: old computers, people in uniform, desks pushed together, a lot of coffee going around. 

Callejo leads us to a door at the far end of the hallway. He pushes it open, we look into the room, and - I hesitate for the briefest second, caught off guard. Aiden and I exchange a very quick glance.

Based on the fact that Will is in here, leaning over the desk, this must be Callejo’s office.

No one on Team Ghost Office realized that Aiden and I would be taken here, so Will startles when the door opens, looks up at us with his blonde eyebrows raised.

Callejo walks right through Will, drops into his chair, and gestures to the two vacant seats before his desk. I take the chair on the left, hoping that I seem totally normal and calm and fine. Will gives me an encouraging smile from where he stands behind Callejo. It helps, actually.

Callejo leans back in his chair, and Will turns to examine the shelves that line the wall behind the desk.

“So,” Callejo says, steepling his fingers. “Everything been pretty much normal since the break-in? Anything unusual to report?”

My eyes dart to the early 19th-century ghost-lumberjack currently running his curious eyes over the titles of Callejo’s books.

“No, nothing unusual,” Aiden says, his gaze firmly trained on Callejo's face.

“Alright. Good.” The detective reaches for his coffee, then rests his elbows on the desk. “We’ll get going on your statements in a moment. I just have one quick question for you, Aiden.”

Aiden nods, a polite smile on his face. He's doing a much better job of playing it cool than I am. I’m profoundly relieved that Callejo’s extra question is for him, not me.

“I read that newspaper article you sent me,” Callejo begins. “I didn’t realize that the stolen case file is about a crime that happened in Port Sitka. That turned out to be very helpful information. I contacted the police in Port Sitka, told them that our copy of the Botswick file was taken. I asked them to dig up their file on the case, and they did. The digital version is missing, so they’re sending someone over with the hard copy.”

“What?” Aiden frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. “The digital version is missing from their records system, too? Just like it was missing from ours?”

“I know, it’s weird, right?” A smile flashes across Callejo’s face. “This is easily the strangest case I’ve ever worked.”

“Having fun?” I ask, and Callejo shakes his head.

“Of course not, that would be very unprofessional.” He takes a sip of coffee, carefully regaining control of his expression. “Anyways, they offered to scan the file and email it. I told them no. Our thief seems to have a technological leg-up on us, so I figured it would be better if we kept this offline."

Aiden clearly doesn't know where this is going, but he nods. "Fair enough."

"But I do plan to digitize it, once it gets here safely," Callejo continues. "So I wanted to ask you, Aiden, as an archivist - will scanning the file destroy the photos or the paperwork? It’s not that old, but I'd hate to damage it, given that it's pretty much all that we have on this case.”

“Oh,” Aiden says, surprised by the question. “No, one scan probably shouldn't damage-” He breaks off, then starts again, more slowly. “Actually... I can’t be sure without taking a look at the materials. Can I see the file?”

I glance over at Aiden, impressed. That was some super quick thinking from my Companion Plant. In fact, that's probably the only way we might get a look at the Botswick file. Why would the police show it to us, if they didn't have to? They wouldn't, but Aiden found a potential way to get us access.

I lowkey want to go sit on his lap, but this isn’t the time or the place. Unfortunate, because that was very sexy of him.

Callejo opens his mouth to answer, then stops as someone knocks on the door. A woman leans into the office. She’s holding a large white envelope, big enough to fit a folder.

“The file from Port Sitka is here,” she says, offering it to Callejo.

“Great, thanks.” He gets up, accepts the envelope, and sets it down on his desk. “Everything go smoothly?”

“Yep, they just need you to sign for it. There’s a guy outside waiting.”

“Okay, just let me get these two set up.” Callejo takes one more sip of his coffee, then beckons us with a nod of his head. “We can finish this conversation after you guys give your statements.”

I glance back at Will before I follow everyone out into the hallway. He’s looking down at the envelope with obvious frustration, clearly wishing he could open it.

There are two doors beyond Callejo’s office. Aiden and I are split up, one into each room. I'm left with a pen and pad of paper.

I let myself take a breath. This is the easy part. All I have to do is write down what Aiden and I already said to the police at the archives.

I sit at the table and get to work. Kasey told us to keep our statements as short and minimal as possible, so this shouldn’t take too long. Still, I’m already missing Aiden, the security of having him at my side.

For a minute or two, the only noise is the scratching of my pen. Then Will materializes, right in front of me.

I’m getting used to the ghosts doing this, especially now that we have two of them on the team. But this time Will didn’t exactly make a graceful appearance. If he was a physical being, he would have knocked the table over. He’s out of breath, his chest rising and falling fast.

“Oh, my god - Will!” I surge to my feet, my heart pounding. “What happ-?”

“Jamie!” he gasps, his green eyes wide, “The thief is in Callejo’s office!”

"Wh-?" I stare at him in blank disbelief. "The thief is here? Right now?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, shit! What do we...?" I fade off, thinking hard and fast. It dawns on me that this could be our only chance to make contact. “Is anyone out in the hallway, Will?”

He pokes his head through the wall, then leans back in. “No, you’re clear!”

I wrench the door open. "Go get Aiden!"

Will disappears, and I rush back to Callejo’s office. I try the knob, find it unlocked.

Slowly, I push the door open, my heart hammering.

There’s someone in black jeans and a black hoodie standing behind Callejo’s desk, doing something to the oversized white envelope. That’s all I have time to process before the thief notices me, drops the envelope, and races for Callejo’s open window, the newly-delivered case file in hand.

I rush across the room, let the door swing shut behind me. The thief gets one foot up on a filing cabinet and leaps for the window, which should be way too high up for anyone to access.

The thief gets a good grip on the ledge, just as I reach out and manage to seize a handful of the black t-shirt beneath the hoodie.

I throw my weight backwards, dragging the thief down from the window, accidentally pulling off the hood in the process.

The thief twists around to face me, and we both freeze, staring at each other.

She's probably around the same age as me and Aiden. She has a buzzcut, a light sunburn across her cheeks, and a small stud nose piercing.

“Let go of me, you jerk!” She swats at my hand, brown eyes staring daggers at me. “Didn’t your mom ever tell you it’s inappropriate to grab a girl like that?”

“Inappropriate?” I ask, amazed. “You’re the one literally stealing something right now!”

"So? That's no excuse!"

We both freeze again as the door bursts open, and Aiden appears there, wide-eyed.

“Jesus Christ!” he gasps, taking in the sight. “What the fuck-?”

“Aiden, distract Callejo!” I interrupt. “I’m fine, I promise, just buy us some time!”

Aiden bites his lip, blue eyes filled with distress. "You'll be okay?"

"Yes!"

Aiden turns around and closes the door after himself. He knows we don’t have time to argue, he trusts me, and if I’m in danger, he’ll hear it.

I turn back to the thief. She’s holding the case file between her teeth, using both hands to try and pry my fingers off of her shirt.

“You realize that this is all gonna be on the security cameras, right?” I ask. “Oh, no - I’m gonna be on the security cameras, too!”

“Oh, please.” The thief plucks the file from her mouth and fixes me with a scowl. “Like I didn’t take care of the security cameras. Shame on the cops for having such a shitty firewall, honestly.”

This news comes as a relief to me, and it must be obvious. The thief stops, peering into my face.

“I remember you." Her eyes narrow. “You came to the archives, after I - you and that tall guy. They made you come in… so you must be the ones who searched for the file, set off my alarm. You are, aren’t you?”

“What?” I stare at her, dumbstruck. “You were still there when we showed up?”

“Why do you even want the file?” Her voice grows thin with frustration. “Can’t you just fucking leave it alone? It happened ages ago!”

“We’re not trying to get anyone in trouble!” I insist. “We just want to talk to you! Can we please-?”

I break off mid-sentence as Kasey appears at my side.

“Callejo’s coming,” she says urgently. “Aiden can’t slow him down any longer!”

I turn back to the thief and let go of her shirt.

“You need to go!” I whisper-shout. “The detective is gonna be here any second! And I’m sorry I grabbed your shirt, I hope I didn't stretch it out - it’s just that we really need to talk to you - oh, and don’t break into the archives again! They’re installing an alarm, you’ll get caught!”

The thief stares at me, taken aback, hugging the file to her chest.

“Why are you helping me?” she whispers.

“No time to explain, just - go, go!”

I blink, and she’s already through the window. She closes it after herself, and the nighttime darkness swallows her up.

I turn to face the door just as Callejo opens it and steps inside. He’s followed by Aiden, who is trying to mouth something at me over his shoulder.

I have no idea how I’m going to explain what I’m doing in here, or - oh, god. What happened to the file. Callejo hasn’t noticed that it’s gone yet, because the envelope is still sitting on his desk.

“Hey, Jamie,” Aiden says, all breezy and light. “I was just telling Callejo that you thought we shouldn’t leave the case file alone, given what happened to the last one.”

“Good thought, Jamie,” Callejo says, already heading to his desk. “Thanks for keeping an eye on it. You two can go finish your statements now.”

I don’t know what else to do, so I stuff my shaking hands into my pockets and head for Aiden.

“Oh, what the hell?” Callejo says, before I can get there.

I stop in my tracks, my heart racing. From the corner of my eye, I can see that Callejo has opened the envelope that the thief emptied.

I turn slowly to face him, desperately trying to think of some way to explain why the file isn’t fucking there - then hesitate, confused.

Callejo has extracted a thin folder from the envelope. He’s got the folder open, and he’s gazing down at the pages inside with a deep frown on his face.

“Well, we won’t have to worry about damaging the file, Aiden.” He holds it up, turns it around to show us. “Someone already took care of that. A long time ago, by the looks of it.”

Aiden and I stare silently at the case file, which looks like it’s been outside in a rainstorm. Every single word is blurred and unreadable, the pictures completely destroyed. But the pages are dry, so this didn’t happen recently.

My eyes widen as I realize: the thief left a dummy file. A pre-destroyed copy. Those water-damaged words probably never had anything to do with the case.

She got away with the real thing, and Callejo is none the wiser.