Capítulo 7: Chapter 7: I Wish I Could Tell You More
He answers within a ring. “Oh, hello,” he says.
“Hi. So, I checked with your hotel. It seems like you were telling the truth.”
“I’m glad you believe me now.”
“I’m sorry for how angry I was on the phone last night.”
He sighs. “You’d just lost your mother. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
For a moment, we both just sit there silently. He’s the one who finally breaks it. “Who are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Since I met you, you’ve done everything from exchange numbers with me to accuse me of murder, and yet I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Matt.”
“Well, nice to finally meet you. I’m Nick.”
“Nice to meet you too.” I decide not to tell him I’d already found his name on his Facebook page. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? When I called you last, she had just died. I was freaking out. I didn’t it could be a coincidence that I met someone from Springwater the night she died, and I guess I still don’t think it was a coincidence, exactly, but I know you didn’t do it, and now I think it might be that the same person who killed you is after her—"
“This is an inconvenient way to talk,” Nick interrupts me to say. “We should meet in person.”
Should we? Should I trust him that much? I’ve already been in a public place with him. It’d probably be fine if I did the same thing again. Still, the fact that he wants to meet is strange to me. “What’s wrong with the phone?”
“It’s not the best place to discuss secrets.”
“Are you worried we’re being listened to?”
“Of course I am. That’s not all, though. There are some matters that are simply better discussed in person.”
“Like what?”
“Please, let’s just meet.”
I sigh. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know if I completely trust you yet.
“The same person is probably hunting both of us. It’s in our interest to work together.”
Both of us? As in me and him? I don’t think I’ve told him that I believe someone is after me. How does he know that? “Who said anything about me being hunted?” I ask. “I told you my mom died—”
“And that you were sure it somehow had to do with my hometown.”
“Yes.”
“I know a lot about Springwater. I’ve lived there my whole life. I know things about it very few people know; that very few people are allowed to know. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“I have absolutely no clue.”
“And you’re not from any place similar to it?”
“I’m from St. Louis. This city has some problems, but it’s nothing like the violent h*llhole you come from.”
“Yet, you have some connection with it, and you’re confident it had something to do with your mother’s murder?”
“Yep. Completely certain of that.”
“Why are you so sure?”
Maybe I’m wrong not to tell him more. Maybe his account of things is correct. Maybe he is being hunted by the same person as me. He seemed like a normal enough working-class guy when I talked to him at the bar. He had plenty of grievances with Springwater. Maybe he’s just a decent person unlucky enough to have been born there. That’s what I am, at the end of the day.
We have plenty to gain by being near each other. Perhaps he could even help me get back at whoever did this? I take a deep breath. “Look, if you want me to trust you, that needs to go both ways. You obviously know a lot that you aren’t telling me. If you want to know what I know, you need to tell me what you know.”
There’s a silence. “It would really be better if you came here.”
“Why?”
“Some things are easier to show than to explain.”
“For instance?”
“Please just come here.”
“No. If you’re going to be all mysterious, then I have to assume you might be part of the whatever it is that’s after me. I can’t tell you anything, and I can’t let myself be in the same room as you.”
“Look, I’m trying. Springwater is a dangerous place. It’s…” there’s a shuffle on his phone, and his voice gets quieter. “There are forces there that would be angry with me for telling you more than they think you should be allowed to know.”
“The same forces that killed my mother?”
“I don’t know. If the same person visited both of us last night, they may have wanted to kill me as well. I’m not entirely sure who would want to do that. It would probably help if I knew who you were, and who your mother was.”
“Tough. If I don’t know what side you’re on—”
“I am on your side.”
I raise my voice. “How can you know that if you don’t know who I am?”
“Look, I can give you some answers—”
“Then do it!”
“Not over the phone. You don’t have to be alone with me. We can meet in a public place.”
“Why meet in person at all?”
“Because you made a good point a moment ago. Cell phones are easy to spy on. We are on the same team. I just need to understand what’s going on.” There’s a desperation in his voice. An air of pleading that makes me feel bad about how hard I’m being on him.
“You’re here on vacation. Do you know how to get to the Galleria?” The Galleria is the largest mall in St. Louis. It’s one of the most public places that would be convenient at this time of day.
“I think I can get there.”
“Alright. There’s a coffee place in the food court there. That’s where we’ll meet.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
He sounds relieved. He really wanted to meet me. I’d almost say he sounded a bit desperate. “You’d better not disappoint me.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
***
I sit in the mall’s food court. I’ve gotten myself a coffee and a couple of doughnuts. Probably not the healthiest breakfast, but it’s what was convenient, and it’s been too long since I’ve eaten. There’s so much cream in my coffee that it’s almost as much of a confection as the doughnuts themselves, and that’s exactly how I like it.
The food court is cavernous, with multiple stories functioning as balconies accessible by wide escalators. There are workers and customers everywhere. I’m safe here. There’s no way Nick can try anything without someone seeing.
At the same time, this place isn’t crowded to maximum capacity, and there’s enough space between me and the nearest person that Nick and I can have a private conversation. If he doesn’t think this place is private enough, he can stuff it. I’m already taking a risk by meeting him.
I’m sitting on a bench against the wall. In front of me, there’s a small table with a chair on the opposite side. As I’m drinking my coffee, I get a feeling he’s there. I don’t see him. I just get a feeling. I look in the direction, well, I guess the one I feel him from.
He’s there.
How did I know? Coincidence. I must have just happened to get a weird feeling, or maybe I just saw him out of the corner of my eye and didn’t realize it.
Nick is dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, just like he was last time I saw him. It’s ten degrees too cool outside for that to be comfortable, but I’m not about to complain about it. As he approaches, I catch a whiff of that same cologne I noticed on him the night we first met. That has to be what it is. He has to have been lying when he said he wasn’t wearing anything. There’s no way a normal person just smells that good.
“Hello,” he says. He takes the chair opposite me.
“Hey.”
“Thank you for agreeing to this.”
“Just make sure I don’t regret it.”
“Hopefully I can.” He looks over both his shoulders, seemingly taking note of everyone in the room. I suppose he must be satisfied that there are few enough people nearby, because he leans in close to me and quietly asks, “What do you already know?”
“I feel like I’ve been over this,” I respond, not going out of my way to match how quiet he’s being. “Your hometown is a sh*thole. There’s a bit more, but I’m not telling it.”
“What kind of sh*thole?”
“Creepy. Giant murder rate. Dangerous to travel through.” I count the reasons off on my fingers as I list them.
“Are you being vague because you don’t know more, or are you just worried about spilling important secrets to someone you don’t know is allowed to hear them?”
“Is that why you’re so secretive?”
“Yes.”
“You said we were on the same team. You shouldn’t have any secrets from me.”
“If you were sure I was on your side, would you tell me about that ‘bit more’ you’ve been holding back?”
I want to say yes, but I didn’t tell Sergeant Barnes everything, even though I’m pretty sure he’s on my side. “Maybe,” I say. “I don’t know.”
“You say you’re not from Springwater?”
“Correct.”
“And you’re not from any place like it?”
“Not unless that includes St. Louis.”
“And you don’t know what I mean when I ask you about places like it?”
“I have absolutely no clue.”
“And that’s what makes things difficult for me. I’m trying to figure out how that could be the case when I know you really do have some connection to the town.”
What does he mean by that? “Do you know that just because you believe me, or is there another reason why you say you ‘really’ know?”
He hesitates for a moment. “Your smell.”
“My what?” He did say he smelled his weird cologne on me.
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