The Ghost

Chapter 13

I tap the desk with the eraser of my pencil in a rhythmic pattern, looking at my notes. One thing isn't adding up, through this whole thing. For Dustin to be able to get into the Prison Room, he needs to be accompanied by someone with Clearance, such as myself, Keith, Kirsten, and a few other Ghosts in the Facility. Either that, or he has to have written permission from Kirsten herself. No one else can give him that clearance without being with him.

Which means someone had to have accompanied him. Which also means that someone is hiding something. Which in turn would have to mean we have another traitor in our Facility, whether they intended it that way or not. Neither of the Guards stationed at the Room are anywhere to be found. They've gone M.I.A. Typical. 

Even if Dustin's working with Lucile - who had clearance - she can't give him that clearance, because she's supposed to be dead. If she were to walk into the Facility, she'd be arrested and questioned on the spot. So, it had to have been someone in the Facility. No one else is dead or missing, except for the Guards and Lucas - who died a few hours before Dustin went into the Prison Rooms. The fact that very, very few people have access to that room narrows it down, but that's about where it stops. 

All of the people have alibis. Some are solid, like mine and Keith's. I was working out in the training room, where Zander saw me, before Dustin entered the Prison Room. Keith, obviously, was in another country at the time, so he's immediately ruled out as a suspect. Others, like a man named William Wilder, aren't so solid. He, apparently, was in his office, sleeping, while this occurred. No one can back him up on that. 

Either way, no one's coming forward. Things aren't looking very good for the Organisation's reputation, at the moment. 

"Kayleene."

I look up at Keith, and stop tapping my pencil. "Yeah?"

"I've said your name three times."

"Sorry. I was thinking."

"Obviously."

I smile softly. "What's up?"

"We've been sitting here all day, trying to figure this out. You have work tomorrow. Do you want me to take you home?"

I set my pencil on my desk and rub my eyes tiredly. "What time is it?"

Keith checks his phone. "It's midnight."

I look up at him. "Crap! Really?"

"No. It's only ten."

I scowl at him. "I hate you."

He grins. "No you don't, Dearest Kayleene. You could never hate me."

I can't help but smile at that, because we both know it's true. "You're right. I could never hate you. But, that doesn't stop me from wanting to throw something at you."

He grins, and opens his arms wide. "Go right ahead."

I laugh. "You're really willing to allow someone whose throwing knives that always hit their target throw something at you?" 

"If you were anyone else, no." 

I roll my eyes and pick up my pencil. I throw it at him like a spear, though with the eraser pointing towards him. It hits him square in the chest, and falls onto his side of the desk. He picks it up and sets it with his other pencils.

I laugh again. "I need that back, Keith. It's my only pencil left that's not broken."

He frowns. "How did you go through a whole thing of pencils in two days?"

"I got frustrated a lot." I shrug.

He chuckles. "That sounds like you, alright." He hands me my pencil, and puts his things away.