Delilah Haze's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

Petra's warning still stung as Delilah walked away from the library. She had six copies under her apron and one more waiting in a P.O. box she hadn't opened in two years. If the men were tracing threads, that box was a loose one. She couldn't remember if she'd kept paying the rent. If it lapsed, the clerk would have emptied the box, and her seventh copy could be anywhere. She had to know. She headed for the postal office before dawn. The postal office sat clean and quiet under its blue sign. A patrol cruiser idled at the curb, its light bar dark. Delilah slowed. She watched the car through the window glass. No one sat inside. She made herself walk in. A clerk stood at window six. His uniform was pressed, his glasses wire-rimmed, a headset clamped over one ear. He looked up before she reached him, as if he'd already known her step. "Box number," he said. "I don't know if it's still mine." Delilah slid a wrinkled scrap across the counter with the number written on it. "I stopped paying. Two years ago, maybe." Eli Rourke read the number. He typed. His face gave nothing. "Rent lapsed eight months back." Delilah's stomach dropped. "So it's empty." "Not yet." He kept his eyes on the screen. "Contents held for a grace period. Somebody paid the balance last month. Cash." "That wasn't me." Eli looked at her then. "I know." He said nothing more. He was a man who logged things others missed, and he had logged this. "Two men. Suits. They asked which boxes were near expiry. I told them what the counter shows anyone." He paused. "They paid to keep yours open." Delilah's hands went cold. They hadn't emptied the box. They'd kept it alive, waiting for her to come claim it. "Is my mail still inside?" "One envelope. Your handwriting." Eli set a small brass key on the counter. "They didn't have the key. I never gave it." His voice stayed flat. "Take it and go out the side. The car's been there since three." Delilah stared at him. "Why help me?" "Because they lied about their names." He pushed the key an inch closer. That was all he'd explain. She took the key and crossed to the wall of boxes. Hers stuck, then gave. Inside sat one envelope, sealed, her own writing across the front. The seventh copy. She pushed it under her apron with the other six. When she turned, the cruiser outside was pulling forward. Two men in suits stood on the sidewalk now, facing the glass door. Eli spoke without looking up. "Side exit. Now." Delilah moved. She had all seven copies at last. But the men knew she'd come, and they were between her and the street. The box was no longer a hiding place. It was a trap she'd just walked into.