Wraiths of Time Read Free

smugglers.”
    Jason smiled. “The boss says just routine. But I’m glad that the public appreciates our efforts now and then.”
    â€œDid Dr. Carey come?” Tallahassee wanted to get rid of that case, put the building and this day out of her life for now.
    â€œYes, ma’am. He’s in that extra office of Dr. Greenley’s, fifth floor. The back elevator’s on, faster for you than the stairs.”
    â€œI left my car just out there,” Jason pointed. “Be back as quick as I can.”
    â€œThat’s all right, Mr. Robbins. Nobody’ll bother it there.”
    Tallahassee hurried around a corner and into an elevator. Jason had to take long strides to keep up with her.
    â€œYou’re in a rush all of a sudden,” he commented.
    â€œI want to get that in the safe,” she said with an emphasis she regretted a moment later when again his left eyebrow arose in question.
    â€œWell,” she added in her own defense, “I can’t help what I feel. There—there’s something wrong.”
    She saw the eyes in Jason’s brown face go suddenly sober.
    â€œAll right. I’ll accept your hunch as real. This has been a queer one from the start. Where’s this safe?”
    â€œIn Dr. Greenley’s office.”
    â€œThere’s one thing—don’t forget to tell this Carey about Nye wanting to hear from him.”
    She had almost forgotten Nye; now she hoped she could find that card in her purse. The urgency that gripped her had absolutely no base in anything but her nerves. But she felt if she did not manage to get rid of the case and out of here something dreadful was going to happen. And so acute was that feeling she dared not let Jason know the force of it. He would think she had lost her mind.
    In the fifth floor the hall lights were still on, and their footsteps on the marble floor were audible. But Tallahassee found herself straining to pick up another sound, perhaps a third set of heel taps. That belief—no, it could not be a belief—that they had an invisible companion was intensifying. Tallahassee caught her lower lip between her teeth and held it so, using all her self-control to keep her eyes straight ahead, refusing to look over her shoulder where nothing could possibly be.
    She reached the door of the director’s office with a sigh of relief and pulled it open, her hand reaching out to snap on the light switch. Before that gesture was completed she gave a little cry. Then a burst of light filled the room to display how silly she had been. Of course no one had passed her. There was no one here but herself and Jason, who was now closing the door behind them.
    â€œWhat is it?” he demanded.
    Tallahassee forced a laugh. “I guess it is all this secret business. I thought I saw a shadow move …”
    â€œOnly the Shadow knows …” intoned Jason solemnly. “You are nervy tonight, Tally. Get your work done, and I’ll take you out for dinner.”
    â€œSome place cheerful,” she found herself saying, “with lots of lights—”
    â€œI beg your pardon.”
    With another gasp Tallahassee swung around. The inside door between this and the neighboring office had opened. A slender man who must be at least an inch or so shorter than herself—which was not unusual: when a girl stands five-eleven-and-a-half shoeless, she does not look up to many males—was eyeing her in manifest disapproval.
    He was thin featured, his nose sharp-pointed, his mouth turning down with a sour twist. And his sandy hair had been combed back with care over a pink scalp, which showed only too readily through those thin strands, to touch his collar in the back.
    â€œI believe this is Dr. Greenley’s office—” His thin lips shaped each word as if he broke them off as he spoke them.
    â€œI am Tallahassee Mitford, Dr. Greenley’s assistant in the African division.”
    He surveyed