Len Oliver drove back towards the station slowly and with great care, taking his time. Rather than order something at a drive-thru, he stopped and went inside. He needed to think. His mind was spinning, and that was unusual for him. Normally he was fully in control of his analytical brain, his emotions held firmly in check. Not this time.
He sat there in silence, chewing slowly on his cheeseburger, going over in his head what he'd just done. He lied to Howard Taylor, and lied in great detail. He knew, as a detective, that most liars screwed things up when they talked too much, adding too many details to their story that wouldn't check out. He'd chattered on like that almost reflexively, almost as if to convince himself what he was saying was true. Whether Howard bought any of it, he had no idea.
He seemed to, though. Len watched from his own car as Howard drove away. The man didn't even look back, except to glance briefly at the rear-view mirror. They both went in separate directions when they reached the highway. From the address on the notepad, Len suspected Howard was heading back to his hotel, probably to spend the rest of the day hunting futilely on the Internet.
Len tried to remember if anything he'd said could be easily checked out on public files. After the incident six months ago, he'd covered things up as best he could with official reports suggesting Stephen Matthews had fled the state. That's what Howard would find out if he dug deep enough, and it fit the story he'd just told. The best lies are ones that fit the facts.
He was finished with his lunch when he finally got around to thinking about the real issue, the one that made him slightly sick to his stomach. The lie itself wasn't the problem, actually. He'd been keeping the truth to himself for long enough now that he could preserve it without infringing on his conscience. No, what bothered him wasn't the lie, but the very fact that he'd lied at all.
Why did he do it? He could've said, right then and there, that Kayla was downstairs, and right now all of those women could be normal sized again, dancing and hugging each other and beating the living shit out of Howard, if that's what they wanted. Certainly Kayla would have, if not the others. He almost chuckled at the thought of poor Howard cowering in the corner while Kayla pounded on him with all the frustration borne of months of torturous tininess.
His smile faded, though, as he remembered that he'd done the opposite of what he should have done. He'd turned Howard away, telling him he didn't know where those women were. All because of Renee.
He didn't want to lose her. He knew, or at least feared, that she'd leave him behind when she got restored to normal. The others weren't an issue. If he could've thought of a way to have Howard turn them back, he would have without a second thought. They were in his care, but he didn't love them like he loved Renee. They were like permanent residents of a boarding house he ran, and he had no attachment to them at all, except a desire to keep them safe and healthy.
Renee, though, that was different. He had to keep her. That was all there was to it. That was the simple truth behind his lies. He would keep her for himself, no matter what.
It was wrong, and he knew it. He thought perhaps Renee might understand, if she knew. Maybe she, too, would prefer to keep things as they were. But he couldn't very well ask, now could he? If he did, she would probably figure out the reason he was asking, and that would be the end of it. He couldn't take that chance.
That still left the question of the others, though. He could keep Renee, but none of this was fair to Kayla or Mary. They weren't prisoners to keep locked in his basement, where he could watch them live their tiny lives. He wasn't Howard Taylor, after all. He would have to turn them over to him, so they could get restored to normal. Then they could both go away, back to their families and careers, hopefully out of this city entirely.
Even Stephen Matthews would have to be returned to normal, thought Len. Yes, the little bastard would be thrown in prison, where he could rot forever on kidnapping and rape charges. Kayla and Mary would doubtless be more than willing to testify against him. Assuming, of course, that a jury could ever be convinced to believe the miniaturization angle. Oh, well, they'd have to cross that bridge when they came to it.
So how could this be fixed? How could Len work things out so everyone got what they wanted, including himself?
He dumped his tray of trash in the garbage and walked out of the fast-food joint, sitting down roughly in his car. How could he possibly get everyone but Renee restored, and back to their real lives, without Renee knowing about it? And better yet, how could he arrange all that, and not have Howard find out there was another shrunken woman at Len's house?
He sat there for a long time, thinking about it, before finally giving up. There were too many variables to digest all at once. He'd have to mull it over a bit longer, until a plan came to him.
He was sure he'd think of something.
Howard drove along the highway, brooding. The music coming out of the radio was a bit loud, but he didn't mind. He, like Leonard Oliver, was lost in thought.
For some reason, something about the meeting with the detective bothered him. There were at least two separate moments during their conversation that the man seemed almost hurried, as if a bit too eager to explain something. Then there was another time when he gave an uncharacteristic pause.
Over a year had passed since Howard last saw Leonard Oliver. Back then, the policeman was doggedly intent on finding out the truth about what happened to Kayla Robertson. He questioned Howard a couple of times, and on each occasion, at critical moments during the interrogation, he used a similar sort of pause. When he did that, he was up to something. What it was, Howard didn't know, but he knew a pregnant pause when he heard it.
What was Leonard up to this time? Why did he hesitate, when Howard asked about Kayla? What else did he know?
If Detective Oliver really knew something else, something he didn't tell Howard, then everything that came out of his mouth after that pause probably wasn't true. He might very well have said those things to keep Howard off the trail. How deep did this deception go?
Howard shuddered. This had to be nothing but paranoia. If Leonard really knew more, why wouldn't he say something? The only reason not to would be if he'd taken Kayla for himself. Such a thing was certainly within the realm of possibility. Only if he did that, why would he allow Howard to leave his house? Len had a perfect opportunity to point his gun (or, worse, his own collapser) at his visitor, pull the trigger, and that would be that.
No, he was mistaken, Howard was sure of it. Something else had to be going on here. How he was going to find out, he didn't know, but he would get to the bottom of it one way or another.
In the back seat, the satchel containing the collapser stirred, as if of its own accord. A little head popped up, and a moment later Stephen Matthews emerged.
He was glad to be out of there. The bottom of the leather case didn't have a lot of extra room, and the collapser shifted onto him during the car's first turns. Only now, when Howard used the exit ramp, had it moved off enough to let him out.
He started to call out to Howard, but decided against it. There was no point; he knew he couldn't be heard over that radio. Instead, he figured he'd just wait here. Howard would stop the car eventually, and when he left there was no chance he'd just leave the collapser here, now would he?
He held himself steady as the vehicle banked around a corner. In his mind, he already knew what he was going to say. He'd gone over it in his head while lying there in the bottom of the bag. The perfect explanation that would get him what he wanted. He had to sell it, though. He had to sell it perfectly, or Howard might catch on. Not that he'd have any reason to doubt his old friend, though. He always was a sap.
Stephen felt a slight twinge of remorse at what he was about to do, but he shook it off. He was going to lie to Howard, and then, when his friend trusted him the most, he would pay the price. That's what got Howard into this in the first place, though, Stephen reminded himself. Too much trust.
Before he got his hands on Kayla, Stephen probably would never have contemplated what he was about to do. Betraying Howard like this would've been the last thing on his mind. The Stephen of those days would've told a similar tale, but when he got restored, he'd simply take his leave, content to let his friend discover the truth long after he had gone. But that was a different Stephen Matthews. Now, all he could think about was getting even. All he wanted now was to get his hands on Kayla and Mary, the two little bitches who'd ruined his perfect world.
What happened to the rest of them, Howard included, didn't matter one bit.
Finally, the car came to a halt. Stephen caught a brief glimpse of a sign advertising a low-rent hotel, but that was all. He waited there, putting on his best look of desperation, and waited for his good friend to open the door and reach inside. In due course, he did exactly that.
"Howard!" Stephen yelled, jumping up and down. "Howard, it's me! It's Stef! You've got to help me!"
Outside, the giant form of Howard Taylor took one look at him and fainted dead away.
Howard opened his eyes and sat up, looking around dizzily. For a moment there he thought he saw--
"Howard! It's really me!" a small, shrill voice yelled. "Don't faint again, you idiot! You might hurt yourself!"
He found his glasses askew and adjusted them, looking up at the source of the voice. Sure enough, there was Stephen Matthews, jumping up and down excitedly, exactly the same size as Kayla. He was dressed in ragged clothes and he hadn't shaved in a while, but there was no mistaking his old friend.
"Stef...?" Howard managed. "What the hell happened to you?"
"I'll tell you all about it!" he called out. "Please, get me inside before someone sees us! I don't think you want to have to explain, do you?"
"N-no, I guess not." Howard stood, staring unblinkingly at Stephen as if he were a dangerous animal. Cautiously he reached inside and retrieved the collapser. For a second, he thought about whipping out the CFR right then and there, for what possible reason could he have to hesitate? Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, he remembered the curious way Leonard Oliver reacted back at his home. The presence of Stephen here in his car could only mean he'd been held prisoner in that house. There was something else going on here, something Howard didn't fully understand. He wanted to know all of it before he took even the slightest bit of action.
Shaking nervously, he put out his hand. Stephen looked at it dubiously but climbed aboard, for he had little choice in the matter. Throwing the satchel over his shoulder, Howard hurriedly made his way into his hotel room, glancing to and fro, afraid of anyone and anything at that moment.
Once inside, he let his tiny friend go on the tabletop. Then he scurried over, closed the blinds, and turned the lights on inside. Thus assured that no one could look in on them, he checked the rest of the room, just in case his old boss might've gotten in again somehow. To his relief, the place was empty.
Only then did he return and sit down at the table, looking in wonderment at the little figure pacing about on the smooth surface. Stephen didn't look worried or concerned by his size at all. In fact, if anything he looked relieved by Howard's giant presence.
"I thought I'd never see you again," yelled Stef. "I thought you'd never come. I waited every day, watching and hoping, and now here you are."
"I figured it out," said Howard. "I found out how to reverse the process. That's why I came back. I was looking for Kayla...but here you are instead. How? How did you get here, and where is she now?"
Stephen nodded eagerly. "I heard you talk about the restoration thing," he called out. "That's why I hid in the case with your collapser. I had to get to you secretly, without him knowing. Otherwise I would've yelled, or gotten your attention sooner. He couldn't know I was here. Luckily, he went straight back to work, so he still doesn't know I'm gone. That's enough time, I think. Enough time to tell you everything."
"Go ahead," said Howard, leaning forward in the chair to hear the story a little better. He knew he could restore Stephen at any time, but he wanted to hear this first, to satisfy his nagging doubts.
For his part, Stef seemed to understand without acknowledging those concerns. He didn't beg to be restored at all. Instead, he stopped pacing, looked up, and began his story.
Back last year, when you sent me that package, I thought I was the luckiest man in the world. Right there, climbing out of the box in front of me, was Kayla Robertson! Not only that, she was the size of a doll! I couldn't think of anything more perfect. I knew then that when I saw her in that diorama of yours, down in your basement, it was the real her the whole time. I remember thinking you were a fucking genius, and now I'd have no chance to tell you that to your face.
At first I didn't really know what to do with her. On your note you said to treat her well, and that she was a human being, but here I was looking at this little tiny creature that moved and talked like Kayla, but she didn't seem much like a human to me. I have to admit, Howard, I did some things I'm not real proud of. I made her do some things...well, I'm sure you know what I mean. You probably did some of the same things yourself, or at least thought about it. Why else would you shrink her down like that, if you couldn't enjoy it?
You were right, though. I figured it out after a while, what you meant by that note. What you did to her was pretty bad, and I didn't need to make it any worse. So I remembered that diorama of yours, and I tried to make something similar for her. Not the perfect little dream home or anything, but at least some creature comforts. She seemed all right with that, and I gave her plenty of things to do, but it didn't seem to help. She spent all her time staring out the window, like I was doing when you showed up today. She rarely spoke to me, and she stopped moving around, except to come get food or use the bathroom. She was sinking into depression, Howard, and I couldn't do anything about it, no matter how hard I tried.
I started to get a little more desperate, unfortunately for me. I started trying to find things of hers, stuff that had been auctioned off by the police. Anything that would make her happy. That's when Leonard Oliver started bugging me again. He knew I wouldn't be trying to get some of that stuff if I didn't have a good reason. He started poking around, and by then I'd moved to this place out of town--a bigger home, with a wide basement Kayla could have all to herself. One day when I wasn't around, he cut a hole in one of the windows and looked down inside, where he saw Kayla napping by the little pool I built for her. That's when he realized the truth.
He was always obsessed with the case. You know that, Howard. Once he realized Kayla had been miniaturized, he couldn't let it go. Only later did I find out how much it consumed him. He wanted her for himself, you see. He had these secret fantasies about her. Probably like the ones I had at first, and like you probably had, until you realized she wasn't just a plaything.
Well, Leonard didn't know or care about any of that. When he saw Kayla down there, all he could think about was getting his hands on her. That's what he'd always wanted, you see. So he waited until I came home that night and ambushed me. He shot me, Howard. Look at this! See this hole in my chest? This is from the bullet he put in me! I'm lucky I wasn't killed, or at least I think I'm lucky. Sometimes, up until you came back, I would wish I had been, but now I'm glad I wasn't.
Anyway, after that, he used my keys to get inside, found the collapser, and used it on me. Then he grabbed Kayla, cleaned out everything from the basement that was hers, and left the place empty. They probably foreclosed on it by now, just like they did with yours, since I disappeared pretty much without a trace.
When I woke up, I found myself in that diorama of yours. You remember it, don't you? Well, Leonard was obsessed with everything that had to do with Kayla. At the auction when they sold all your stuff, he's the one who bought it all. He'd been keeping it all this time, as a place to keep Kayla if he ever found her. Now he had her there, and she nursed me back to health. I thought I'd never seen anyone more beautiful, and I tried to put the moves on her, you know? The ol' Stef Matthews moves. She never even reacted, Howard. Not even once. She took care of me, but only because he made her do it.
I didn't see the things he did to her. He was never kind or gentle, though. He took her away, and when she came back, she cried a lot. At first, I mean. Then, as the days went by, she stopped crying. She stopped doing anything at all, Howard. I never saw anyone with a face that looked that empty. He destroyed her. That's the only way I can describe it.
Then, one day, when he took her away, she didn't come back. I never found out exactly what happened to her, but I can imagine it well enough. I'm sure you can, too. After that he rarely spoke to me. I think he might've blamed me, as if I had a damn thing to do with it. I was nothing to him, nothing but a nuisance. I'm lucky I didn't get thrown out with the trash one night. For some reason, though, he felt obligated to keep me alive. Maybe it was out of some twisted sense of guilt. I don't know. All I know is eventually he took me out of that diorama, and shoved me in a cage. That's where I've been living for the last few months. A dirty, stinking cage! I'm still wearing the same clothes, and all I eat are leftovers he tosses to me every night before bed. Thank God I was able to figure out how to open the gate, and move around the house when he's not there. I would go up every day, and sit in the window, watching and praying for you to appear, so I could get your attention, and maybe you'd put me back to normal, so I could get the hell out of there at last.
And now, here you are. Thank God for that. I don't know how much longer I could've lasted, Howard. I really don't. You got here just in time. Now, please, if you don't mind, could you...could you please take out that device of yours, and use it on me? I know you were hoping to find Kayla, and I'm sorry about what happened, and I would've stopped it if I could, but there was nothing I could do. You have to understand. There was nothing I could do. Nothing at all.
Now please...put me back to normal, Howard. End this nightmare at last, so I can get the hell out of this city and away from that bastard Leonard Oliver!
Howard listened silently to Stephen's story. Not once did he say a single word. He frowned when he heard about Stef's initial abuse of Kayla. He scowled at the sight of the bullet hole in his friend's chest. He cringed at the admission that Leonard had done cruel things to his prisoner. Then tears welled up in his eyes when he heard of Kayla's fate.
By the time the tale was over, Howard's face had retreated to an almost neutral demeanor. His emotions were impossible to read. Stephen looked him in the eyes, those gigantic orbs made monstrous by the thick glasses he wore, and couldn't tell what, if anything, Howard was feeling. All he could do was hope his convincing line of bullshit did the trick.
After a moment, Howard shifted in his chair. His hand went into his jacket pocket and emerged a moment later, holding a silver rod with a crystalline tip. Stephen closed his eyes, threw out his arms, and waited.
Without a word, Howard pointed the restorer at him and pulled the trigger.
Stephen blinked and lifted his head. He felt slightly dizzy, but that was all. There was a sharp pain in the back of his skull, and he discovered, looking around in amazement at the normal-sized room, that he was leaning up against the table, which was lying on its side.
"Sorry," muttered Howard apologetically. "When you enlarged, you conked your head. I forgot to have you get on the floor first."
"I don't care about that!" Stephen got to his feet and quite literally jumped for joy. "It's small again, all of it! Dude, you have no idea what this feels like! Everything's normal sized again!"
"I think I can imagine," replied Howard, slipping the restorer back into his coat pocket. "I've often thought of what it was like for Kayla." He sighed and stared down at the floor, unable to find any pleasure in his friend's return to normal proportions. "She would've been at least that happy."
"I'd kiss you," said Stephen, "but yeah, on second thought, maybe I'll just forget that part." He turned away, grinning, avoiding letting Howard see his true emotions. He wasn't just glad to be big again, he was also ecstatic that his friend had bought that lame-ass story.
For a while there he wasn't sure if Howard was going to believe it. Stephen knew he laid it on a bit thick there, especially the part about Kayla, but he had to have Howard believe she was gone. If not, he'd go straight back to Leonard's house and break in, and that might not give him enough time.
He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do at this point, but he really just wanted Howard out of the way. Hopefully, his old friend would just depart without any further incident. He was pretty sure that wouldn't happen, though. Howard would almost certainly go after Leonard now, and Stephen had every intention of being there to pick up the pieces when he fell.
"I just can't believe it," moaned Howard, still shaking his head. "All that time and work, and she's just...gone."
"You couldn't have known," said Stephen supportively. "Besides, at least you were able to save me."
"From him." Howard frowned, and his face took on a much darker countenance. "From Leonard Oliver. That bastard. That despicable bastard! He killed her, or drove her to death, one or the other. He's going to pay for that."
"Now, now, just hang on a second," insisted Stephen. "You need to think about this. He's got a collapser, too. If you just show up at his house again, he might use it on you. He probably would've already, if you hadn't surprised him like you did."
"Where is it?" demanded Howard, apparently unconcerned with that possibility. "Where does he keep it?"
Stephen knew exactly where it was, but instead of saying so, he replied, "I'm not entirely sure. He moves it around the house. Sometimes he carries it with him. He's pretty paranoid about it getting stolen, and he always hid it after he looked in on me in my cage. I think he knew I could get out of there, but let me get away with it as long as I didn't cause any trouble."
"How very nice of him." Howard stood up and began to pace around. "How very decent, to let you roam around on the floor like some kind of pet rat."
"At least he didn't torture me," said Stephen, tossing a little extra fuel on the fire. "Not like he did Kayla. I think he felt guilty after that, at least a little. Or maybe I just wasn't interesting to him. Not like she was. The way he poked and prodded her...sometimes I caught a glimpse of some of it. Terrible, just terrible. When she came back later, she was almost catatonic. I think at the end she'd stopped eating, too. She lost so much weight...you wouldn't have recognized her, Howard."
"God damn him." Howard clenched his hands up into fists. "God damn that man! I sat right there in his living room and he lied to my face. He said whatever he had to say to get me to leave, didn't he? And I told him where I was. What if he's coming here right now?"
"I don't think he will." Stephen put his hand on his friend's shoulder to try and calm him down. "Think about it. He doesn't know I've escaped, at least not yet. He probably went back to his office, trusting in his alarms to warn him if you try to get inside. He won't know I got away until he goes home later tonight."
"Yeah, I guess so," said Howard. "But what if he went inside to see if you were still there? You said he probably knows you can wander around freely."
"True," replied Stef, "but he doesn't know I found a way to get upstairs. He thinks it's pretty well sealed, but he missed a spot."
Howard nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. He'd probably be here already, if he checked on you." Nervously, he glanced out the window, but the parking lot was virtually empty, and nobody was moving around as far as he could see. "Okay, then, let's say he figures he put one over on me. That gives us some time to think about our options. What's our next move?"
"Well," said Stephen, "that depends on what you want to do. Me, I just want to get the hell out of here. The farther, the better."
"Well, I guess I could drive you to the bus station or something," said Howard with a shrug. "I'm not going to leave, though. Not right away. I made a promise to destroy that device, and I'm going to go through with that. I'm going to find it, and smash it to bits. Then I'm going to find some way to make Leonard Oliver pay for what he's done."
"How?"
"I'm not sure yet," said Howard. "I really don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead. I just can't let him get away with what he did to Kayla."
"What can you do, though? He's a cop, you know, and you don't exactly have any evidence, especially if you smash the collapser."
Howard nodded, continuing to pace around. "Yeah. Yeah, that's true. I do have one secret weapon, though. I have you."
"Me? What am I supposed to do?"
"You can testify," said Howard, looking up at his friend, almost pleading with him. "You can go to court and tell them what he did."
Stephen looked away. "I can't do that!" he insisted. "Testify against a cop? And tell them what, I was shrunk down to tiny size, and watched him carry her off out of sight, until one day she just didn't come back? And then what? Admit I had her for myself for a while, and did some terrible things, too? And what about you, Howard? You got all of this started. Do you really want to stand in front of a jury and admit that?"
"I'd do it," said his friend at once, "if I thought it would help, but you're absolutely right. This whole thing is too convoluted. The law doesn't really have any way of handling this situation. I wouldn't care if I went to jail--I'd deserve it, after what I did to her. But I don't think you do, Stephen. If you did deserve any punishment, you've already lived through it."
"Good, I'm glad you see it that way," said Stephen, pretending to be relieved. "That still leaves Leonard off the hook, though. Unless you take matters into your own hands."
Howard looked down at the collapser, still securely sealed away in its leather carrying case. "No," he insisted. "No, I won't do that to him. Not to another human being."
"But think about it," suggested Stephen, trying very hard not to sound too eager. "This time, it's not permanent. You can undo it at any time. Just hit him with the beam, and keep him for a while, until you think he's gotten what he deserved. Maybe get him to confess, if that's what makes you happy. Then, when you're satisfied, put him back to normal and get the hell out of town. If nothing else, at least you'll feel better."
Howard considered that. "Okay, then," he agreed, "let's say that's what I decide to do. How do we set it up, so we can get him privately? Not on his front porch, I mean. Somewhere he's sure to be alone."
"Don't worry." Stephen smiled. "Leave that to me. But first, can we do a little shopping? We need to pick up a few things, if we're going to make this work, and I need to get out of these shitty clothes."
Leonard sighed and leaned forward in his chair, running his fingertips across his temples. The information on the computer screen seemed blurry and indistinct, probably because he'd been staring uncomprehendingly at it for the last half hour.
He couldn't get his mind off the situation with Howard Taylor. He kept going over and over the scenarios in his head. Nothing seemed to work. Everything he could come up with had one simple, unmistakable problem that couldn't be overcome.
He was going to have to lie to Renee.
Like most people who were, in a strictly general sense, considered "good," Leonard Oliver didn't like to lie. He could do so, when he had to, especially when it was for the best. He had no problem lying to his fellow police, even his captain, to protect Renee and the others from exploitation. Furthermore, as long as it preserved his relationship with Renee, he didn't mind lying to Howard Taylor. But the one thing he didn't want to do was lie to her.
He and Renee had a very open and honest relationship. She knew pretty much all there was to know about him, and vice versa. He liked the fact that they had no secrets from one another. He felt closer to her than he ever had to anyone in his life. That, though, was the heart of the matter. He didn't want to lose her, yet he had to lie to her if he wanted to keep her...and that he couldn't do.
So he found himself in a quandary. He couldn't lie, because he loved her too much to do that, yet if he told her the truth, he couldn't keep her as she was. He had to decide, and fairly soon--before Howard got tired of hanging around and left, to continue to pursue the ice-cold trail of Kayla Robertson. He had to do one thing or the other.
That's why he couldn't get any work done. The problem plagued him utterly. He walked around, he made phone calls, he tried to write reports, but nothing worked. He just couldn't get anywhere. Not until he came to some sort of resolution.
Could he lie? He tried to imagine it. He pictured in his mind, holding that gorgeous little thing in his hand, and telling her the others were gone, for some half-baked reason or other. He could picture her reaction, and feel the stomach-twisting knots starting up in his chest. And then what? If she believed him, how was he supposed to go from there? Every time he looked at her, he'd wonder what would happen if she knew. What she'd say if she found out there was a way to get back to normal, and he hadn't told her.
Finally, with a growl of anger, Len slammed his palms down on the desk. He couldn't do that. He knew he could never do that to Renee. There was just no way he ever could. She had to know. Damn it all, she had to be told.
Maybe...just maybe, he told himself, there was a chance she'd want to remain as she was. Maybe she'd decide, given the choice, and the knowledge she could change her mind at any time, that she'd stay with him. That she'd agree to be his little pet, for as long as they both wanted it that way.
That was the answer, then. He'd let her choose which way to go. He'd lay it on the line, and she could take her pick. He'd go home right now, and tell her, in private, that Howard Taylor was back. The chips would just have to fall where they may.
With newfound confidence, and armed with the knowledge that he'd made the right decision at last, Len grabbed his coat and headed for the door, not bothering to say a word to the rest of the policemen there. They'd just have to do without him for the rest of the day.
"Hello, ladies," said Leonard's voice, booming through the walls around them. "I hope you had a good afternoon."
"Good as any," Mary called out. She was sitting at the computer, playing the latest time-consuming adventure game, mostly just because there was little else to do. At this hour, nothing much was on TV.
"Aren't you home a little early?" Renee called out as she hopped off the stair-stepper machine. "It's not even five!"
Leonard hesitated, gazing down through the glass at the little figure waving up at him. She was decked out in a white sleeveless leotard, with contrasting dark leg-warmers stretched up over her thighs. Above her face, keeping her auburn bangs at bay, was a headband made of a rolled-up bandanna. She was sweating profusely and looked about as sexy as anything he could possibly imagine.
Nearby, Kayla was jogging around the running track, wearing something equally as skimpy--more so, in fact, since it left her midriff bare and shapely legs completely exposed. His gaze never wavered, though. He only had eyes for Renee.
"Sorry," he mumbled, momentarily taken aback. He'd seen Renee in much less, of course, but she looked especially radiant today. Something about the way the miniaturized Spandex clung to her skin, and accentuated her curves...he had no idea why, but it literally stopped him in his tracks. "Well, anyway, I, uh, wanted to come home early, so here I am."
Renee grinned and flashed a knowing glance at Kayla. "You're looking at my body, aren't you? You great big perv, looking in like some kind of peeping tom! Mary was right about you all along!"
"Me?" shouted Mary, laughing at that. "I didn't say anything! You can't prove it!"
"Yeah, besides, how do you know he's not looking at me?" put in Kayla as she finished another lap on the nearby track. "I happen to think I'm pretty hot, if I do say so myself."
"Don't worry," replied Len, grinning at their friendly banter, "I wasn't looking at either of you. I happen to like sweatsuits, you know."
"Hey!" Mary protested, standing up and giving a little pirouette in her loose-fitting outfit. "Now you tell me!"
Len chuckled at that, but just as quickly became serious. "Okay, well, enough fun for now. If you don't mind me taking you away from all this, Renee my dear, there's something we need to discuss in private."
"Sure," she agreed at once, removing her headband and wiping her face and shoulders with a towel. "Right now? Or should I grab a quick shower?"
"Right now is fine," said Len. "The sooner, the better. Come on, hop in."
He lifted up the glass case and set his hand inside. Kayla reflexively stopped jogging and took a couple of steps towards the nearest exit. There was something about that gesture that still made her nervous, no matter how friendly the giant seemed to be.
She caught a glimpse of Leonard's face through the opening, even as Renee climbed onto the waiting palm and was quickly swept away. There was something very chilling in the expression he wore. Something that made a shiver run up and down her spine. What was it he wanted to talk to her about, anyway?
As the glass ceiling came down and Leonard's feet tromped away into the distance, Mary's head poked out from behind the corner. "What do you suppose that was all about?" she asked curiously.
Kayla stepped over to the exercise machines, where a small stack of towels waited. "No idea," she answered, wiping off her forehead. "Something important, if he wanted to haul her away so fast."
"He probably downloaded some porn at the station," chuckled Mary, "and got all hot and bothered when he saw her dressed like that. Not that you did her any favors, with what you've got on."
Kayla glanced down at the halter top and hip-hugging shorts. "I wear this all the time, I'll have you know! It's very comfortable."
Mary rolled her eyes and glanced momentarily down at her sweatsuit, which hid her body quite effectively. "I'm just joking, silly. He probably never even noticed you."
"Yeah, probably not. Even so, I'm pretty sure this wasn't about sex. He sounded upset about something, and when was the last time he came home before five for any reason whatsoever?"
Mary nodded. "Good point. Hmm, makes me wish I could listen in on what they're talking about up there."
"Well, we can't, so..." Kayla's voice trailed off. "Hmm. Actually, maybe we can." She looked away, gaze traveling towards the distant exit. "You know, that ventilation shaft goes several places in the house. I could never figure out how to open the grates from the inside, but that doesn't mean we couldn't listen to whatever he's saying."
"Wait, what?" Mary looked horrified. "Go all the way up there? Right now? No way!"
Kayla grinned. "Good, that's just the sort of challenge I was looking for. Now where did I put those climbing boots...?"
Leonard held his precious cargo with the greatest of care while he walked cautiously and deliberately up the stairs. He always carried her like this, keeping his hand as still as possible. The last thing he wanted was for Renee to accidentally fall out and get hurt. Besides, she felt wonderful, especially when she stretched out luxuriously between his fingers.
He paused to open the basement door and took a glance down at her. She was sprawled out on her back, legs out and dangling over the side of his palm. For a moment he thought she was asleep, for her eyes were closed and she wore an expression of absolute comfort and serenity. After a few seconds, she sighed and opened her eyes, smiling, and waved up at him, and his heart skipped a beat.
So beautiful, he thought. So perfect, so delicate...how can I possibly give her up? How can I let her go?
He shook that off and looked away. His decision was already made. To try to keep her, against her will, would be wrong. He had to hope that she would decide to stay on her own.
That's why he didn't want to tell her in front of the others. He knew what their reactions would be, and he didn't want them influencing Renee's decision. In fact, if Renee wanted, he could keep her out of sight until the process of enlarging the rest of them was over. Len would be happy to proceed in whatever way she wanted.
He walked into the dining room and set her down carefully. She hopped off, meandering over to the little basket filled with napkins that occupied a spot near the center of the table, next a wooden bowl filled with decorative carvings of various types of fruit. Leaning up against the basket, she smiled again and said, "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"
Len paused for a moment. He couldn't think of how to begin the conversation, so he said, "Not just yet. Tell me about your day."
She shrugged, figuring whatever this was, he'd get to it eventually. "Not too bad. I read for a while, and watched some TV, but got bored when the judge shows came on. So I went for a swim, and then was getting a bit of a workout when you showed up. It's been a while since I really got a chance to exercise. Honestly, I'd intended to grab a shower afterwards, but you came home too early. I wish you'd let me have one--I feel pretty disgusting."
"Well, you look great." Len took a moment to glance at her appreciatively, drawing a blush from Renee, before moving into the kitchen and opening up the refrigerator. He rustled around inside for a bit before finding a can of soda and popping it open. "Sorry, I'm forgetting my manners," he said. "You want me to miniaturize a drink for you?"
"Nah," she replied. "I had something after my swim. Anyway, I told you about my day, now it's your turn. Anything new on any of the cases?"
"The lab misidentified the bullets," said Len, "but after I had them double check, they agreed with your diagnosis. I swear, they must think I'm some kind of magician down there, thanks to you."
"I try," she told him, settling down on the table to do some post-workout stretching exercises. Not only did her muscles ache a bit, but she also wanted to see the effect that a few such moves would have on Len. Nor was she disappointed. He stopped talking for a while, seemingly mesmerized as she reached to touch her toes, bending over as if she was folding herself in half. A huge grin crossed her face, but she kept it hidden as best she could. Teasing Len was one of her favorite things to do.
He continued to stare, but managed to mumble out a few more anecdotes about the day's labors at the police station. The more she stretched out, the slower his words seemed to come. Renee wondered if he'd be able to contain himself. Usually, he waited until late at night, just before bed, to pursue the more intimate aspects of their relationship.
She was sure he'd give in this time. The way she was unabashedly flirting, and how she looked in that skintight leotard, had to be turning him on something fierce. Certainly from his facial reaction and speech patterns, he was all but hypnotized. For some reason, though, he didn't act on his impulses.
After a moment she caught the pained look on his face, and remembered that he had, indeed, brought her up here for a reason. There was something important he wanted to talk about. So she let him off the hook, sitting up against the napkin holder and drawing her legs in close to her body. When he finished describing the last case of the day, another robbery like the one two days before, she didn't ask any further questions. Instead, she remained silent, no longer smiling, and waited for him to get on with whatever was so damned important.
"All right," said Leonard, "I guess I should get to it, then."
"Yes, you should," she replied. "I've been waiting pretty patiently, I think."
He nodded. "Okay, then. Look, this is going to be very difficult for me. I love you with all my heart, Renee. You know that."
"Yes, of course I do," she agreed at once. "I love you, too, Len. What does that have to do with anything?"
"All right, then," he went on, swallowing noticeably, causing his Adam's apple to bounce up and down nervously on his throat. "I've taken care of you pretty well, haven't I? You're happy with me, right?"
"Yes, of course I am," she said with a nod. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
He smiled, but the expression just as quickly vanished, replaced by something more like nervousness and fear. "Well, then, I want to ask you something, but I'm really not sure how to put it. Let me try it this way. Do you like being small?"
"What?" Renee just stared at him. "I don't understand...why are you asking me that?"
"It's a serious question," he went on. "I know you hated it at first, and I hated the way it hurt you, but it's not so bad now, is it?"
"Well, no, I guess not," she replied, still not sure what this was all about. "If I had to be like this with anyone other than you, I don't think I could stand it, but you make it bearable. Why are you asking, Len?"
"Because," he said with a long sigh, "I have to tell you something, Renee. I've always been honest with you before, so I'm going to be honest now. I...I like the fact that you're small. I really do. I like holding you in my hand and carrying you around. I like that all it takes is my fingertip to get you all riled up. I like the feel of you on my skin. But more than that, I like the relationship we have, exactly the way it is. I don't ever want this to change."
"Oh, Len..." Renee stood up and stepped towards him. "Len, you great big wonderful man! I like all those things, too. I really do. And I love you with every ounce of my teeny little body."
He nodded, smiling, but knew immediately that there was more to come. With a sinking heart, he waited for the rest.
"But," she went on with a sigh, "I don't want to stay like this. No matter what we have together, this isn't real, Len! I don't feel like a person when I'm this small. I feel like your pet. That's what I am, isn't it? Just a pet."
"No, Renee! I love you, and not like that! I love you for who you are, and I'd still love you, no matter what size you were. No matter what, you can count on that."
She reached up and ran a hand across his chin, causing him to shudder. "That doesn't change the fact that I'm your pet. I don't want to be your pet, Leonard. I want to be normal sized again, so I can hold you in my arms, and kiss you, and do any of a hundred other things to you. I want to be your lover, not your pet."
He lowered his head, pursed his lips, and kissed her gently on the shoulder. "That's what I wanted to talk about," he concluded with a smile. "That's what I've been thinking about all day. Thank you, Renee, for telling me the honest truth."
"If I hurt you just now, I didn't mean it," she insisted worriedly. "It's not so bad, being a pet, really. I'll freely admit that. I don't blame you for any of this. It's just that, well, given a choice between staying a pet or being normal again, well, I'd much rather be normal."
She paused for a second, for even as those words were spoken, her mind went down the obvious path that statement presented. "Wait a minute," she added suddenly, "why are you asking me all this? Are you--Len, are you saying I have a choice? That I can be normal again, somehow? Oh, please, don't tease me! Tell me the truth! Is it possible? Please tell me it's possible!"
He smiled again, enjoying the moment, even more so because he was certain now that no matter what, she would stay with him after the deed was done. All his fears and worries had faded just like that, and now, he could share the happy news she'd waited so many long months to hear.
"Yes, Renee," he told her at last. "You can be big again, if you want to be. Howard Taylor's back."
Down in the ventilation duct, standing next to the grating that separated her from the rest of the dining room, Kayla Robertson gasped.
The sound seemed to echo around her, bouncing off the metal walls, sending vibrations through the floor that might well have woken the dead. That was, of course, an illusion, for the noise had absolutely no chance of making it to the distant ears of Leonard Oliver. Especially not with all that happy shouting coming from Renee, who was, by all accounts, dancing her way back and forth across the distant tabletop.
Kayla couldn't believe her ears. She couldn't make out Renee's words from this distance, but Len's were audible enough. Howard Taylor had come back!
She just stood there for about a minute, completely paralyzed, as if her whole body had just locked itself up. Howard was back! He'd come back, after all this time, and that could only mean one thing. In fact, from the way Len worded it, it most definitely meant exactly that.
Howard figured it out at last! He could reverse the miniaturization, and make them all normal sized again! He could turn Kayla into a real person, not this tiny, pathetic toy living in a glass house in someone's basement. He could give her back her life!
She wanted to jump for joy, to shout it from the mountaintops, to dance about and do cartwheels down the tunnel, but instead she simply stood there, frozen in place, as numb as she had ever been. Where was the excitement? Where was the yelling and screaming? Renee certainly had the right idea. Why didn't Kayla?
Because there was something not quite right about all this. She didn't know what it was, but something about the whole situation was definitely out of whack. Why did Leonard tell only Renee, and not all of them together? What was all that questioning about? Why even bother? Would he have kept the news to himself if he didn't like the answers Renee gave?
And what about Howard? Where was he, anyway? Why would Leonard know all this, but not have Howard here already? In fact, what if that person who rang the doorbell earlier in the day actually was Howard? If so, why didn't Len invite him downstairs in the first place?
Kayla didn't know, but all those things worried her. "Dammit, Kayla," she muttered under her breath, the words echoing hollowly around her, "why do you have to be so goddamn paranoid?"
She shook her head, for she already knew the answer. She was paranoid because being four inches high for almost two years does that to you. The only person she could trust was herself. Not Renee, not Mary, and not even Leonard Oliver. Just herself.
For a moment, she considered hurrying back down to inform Mary about all this, but just then, the doorbell rang. Kayla peered out through the bars, focusing on the distant front door. Unfortunately, the dining room table blocked her view. In order to see who that was, she'd have to move to another vent.
Cursing, she scampered off, heading towards the next grating down the line.
Leonard was laughing along with Renee, who couldn't seem to stop dancing and cavorting about on the table. She was so excited he hadn't even had a chance to give her the rest of the details. Not that he cared, really. All he had to do was pick up his phone and call Howard Taylor, and soon, Renee would be normal again. Len knew he'd have to apologize for misleading the man, but surely Howard would understand.
He was about to explain all of that when the doorbell suddenly rang. Len glanced over towards the front of the house curiously. He hadn't seen anyone approach, and there weren't any cars outside, as near as he could tell. Who could it be, anyway? Perhaps a neighbor? Probably, since the street outside was empty.
"Hang on a second, Renee," he said reluctantly. "Whoever this is, I'll get rid of them. Just hide in the fruit basket, okay?"
"Sure," she agreed, beaming with happiness. Without a word she squeezed in between the huge wooden pear and banana, where there was plenty of space. She always thought the decoration was a bit tacky, but it also provided a nice spot to disappear if someone interrupted them during mealtime. Once she wiggled all the way to the bottom, she was invisible amidst the shadows, even if the visitor came in and walked around. He'd have to literally dump out the fake fruit and sort around in there just to find her.
Assured that she was safely out of sight, Leonard moved over to the door. He glanced outside through the blinds, and saw to his surprise that the visitor was none other than Howard Taylor!
Perfect, he thought, unlocking the door, never once stopping to wonder why Howard's car wasn't visible out there. Why he parked it around the corner, so Len couldn't see him drive up with a passenger on board. A passenger who even now was waiting for his opportunity to strike.
"Howard!" said Len eagerly, opening the door without hesitation. "It's funny, I was just thinking about you! Come on in, will you?"
Hiding in the fruit basket, little Renee heard that name and stood up, peering out to get a glimpse of the man who'd built the terrible device that changed her life. She could only see a small part of him through the distant screen, but he looked a bit pudgy, and terribly short, with very thick glasses and hopelessly thinning hair. Exactly the sort of nerdy nebbish she always imagined him to be.
Should she emerge, and run across the table to get his attention? No, better to let Len point her out, she decided. He'd enjoy the surprise.
In the vent, Kayla also heard that hated name. Howard was here! In fact, he was close by--close enough she could probably throw something at him, if she weren't stuck in this damn tunnel.
She ran, not caring how loud the pounding footsteps sounded in her ears. She didn't even mind if anyone out there heard her, not that they ever would. All she wanted to do was get to the next grating and get the man's attention. She wanted to see the look on his face when he finally beheld her once again after all this time.
What to do when she was big again? Punch him in the nose? Knee him in the groin? Slap him across the face? So many possibilities...
All of the above, she decided, smiling as she ran.
Downstairs, Mary Blaisdale was annoyed. She had no idea what was going on upstairs, of course. All she knew was that as soon as Kayla pulled on her boots and gloves, she was off, scampering up the wall like she'd been shot out of a cannon. She was inside the drop ceiling and out of sight in less than a minute.
Mary shook her head. Part of her was upset that Kayla would take such a risk, and part of her was amazed that she pulled it off at all. The rest of her was simply very, very jealous.
There was no way, thought Mary with a shrug, that she could ever do something like that. Climbing was always Kayla's gig. Best to stick with what she knew.
In fact, she felt a bit stiff from sitting in the computer chair all afternoon. Some more exercise would do her good. Fortunately, there was a swimming pool right here. She could take a dip and relax until Kayla or Renee came back with the news.
Whatever was going on up there sure better be important, she thought impatiently, reaching for her swimsuit.
"I can't come in just yet," said Howard, a tone of urgency in his voice. "There's something I have to show you. Come with me, it's in my car."
"Uh, okay, sure thing," said Len, glancing over his shoulder at the bowl of wooden fruit on his table. He flashed a quick nod at Renee, even though he couldn't see her, and followed Howard out. "What's going on? What did you find?"
"You'll understand when you see it," said Howard. "In fact, it's so amazing I had to park out of sight over here." He led Leonard along to a spot around back, where he was pretty sure the angle would make it impossible for any curious onlooker, should there be any in their homes at that time of day, to see what was about to happen.
Len followed, starting to feel a bit uneasy. He could still feel the comforting presence of his service revolver in its shoulder holster, and he knew he could grab it far faster than Howard could reach into that leather case of his. The satchel was snapped firmly shut, too, further easing Leonard's fears. He failed to notice, as he walked along, how much more easily it bobbed up and down at Howard's side, as if it wasn't holding anything particularly heavy at all.
Howard came to the car and stopped. "It's in the back," he explained, opening the front door and reaching for the hatch release. "Have a look."
The hatchback popped open, and Len ducked slightly to get a better view. There was nothing there but a folded, somewhat out of place blue blanket. In fact, it was covering a large lump that looked to be in the shape of--
The blanket moved. Len reached reflexively for his gun, but stopped, frozen, when the cover fell away. The blood in his veins turned ice cold as he saw who was there, and realized, in that split second, exactly what was going on.
Then Howard lifted up the collapser, which wasn't inside the satchel at all. No, the carrying case held nothing but crumpled-up newspapers. The collapser had been waiting on the front seat, just for that moment of distraction, the scant instant where Len could only stare in disbelief at the grinning face of Stephen Matthews.
Then the world became a whole lot bigger.