Capítulo 8: Chapter 8: I Don’t Have Time for Fairy Tales
“Your scent. That, and the general pull I feel toward you.”
Well, that’s a heck of a way to come on to someone. “I think that’s just you being horny.”
“No. You have a scent that shouldn’t be possible for someone who has no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Well, I guess I’m a walking miracle then, because I don’t have the first clue what you’re saying.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Which doesn’t make any sense. If you were that old, you should have shifted by now.”
“I should have done what?”
“See. That’s the thing. You shouldn’t be asking that question. You should know what I mean.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“And I’m trying to figure out how that could be. I’m sorry for being cryptic, but if I tell you everything, and it turns out you’re not allowed to know it, I will get in a lot of trouble, and that wouldn’t end well for you, either.”
I throw my hands up. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He sniffs the air. “Are you wearing any kind of cologne?”
“No, that would be you.”
“So, you do smell something on me, then?”
“Of course.”
“And it’s good?”
“Well, that’s kind of a personal question.”
“We exchanged numbers because we were planning on having sex. Surely you can tell me how I smell if doing so might help both of us figure out what’s going on here?”
He has a point there. To think it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I wanted to bone this guy. “Fine. Yes. It’s good. Whatever scent you’re wearing is good.”
“But you have no idea what it is?”
“Not the slightest.”
“And you swear you have no idea what shifting is?”
I hold up my right hand, though I’m still holding one of my doughnuts in it. “I swear.”
“Then I don’t know. I can’t make sense of everything I’ve seen and heard regarding you.”
“Well, I’m very sorry for being so inscrutable.” I take a bite of my doughnut and wash it down with some coffee.
“What are your thoughts on the supernatural?” he asks, and, with that question, ignites in me a quiet doubt regarding his sanity.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“A lot.”
“That’s not a very helpful answer.”
“Just go with me. Look, I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here. I’m as confused and frustrated as you are.”
“Oh, I doubt that very seriously.”
“What I mean is, I am also annoyed by the lack of answers here. I’m trying to find the question that will tell me what I need to know for both of us to find the truth.”
“Just stop holding back.” I put my doughnut down. “Look, I super promise that I won’t tell anyone about any mind-shattering secrets you tell me about your sh*thole hometown.”
“It’s not just about you telling someone. If the wrong person finds out I told you anything, it could get us both killed.”
“Then I don’t know what to do for you. No matter what your reasons are, even if they’re good, if you don’t have answers for me, you don’t have answers for me.” I take another bite.
“I don’t know if I do. I’m trying to find out. Please, just answer my question. Do you believe in the supernatural? Monsters, maybe? Cryptozoology?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve been on this planet long enough to know it’s just as much of a boring sh*thole as it appears to be.”
“I take it from that that you’ve never experienced anything supernatural?”
“Oh my G*d, that is actually where you’re going with this. You actually believe in magic or something.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Good for you.” So, this guy is just a crazy weirdo. Maybe I should get up and leave right now. Even if he has loads of the answers I’m looking for, they’re of no use to me if I can’t trust a word he says not to be some psychotic delusion.
I don’t leave, though. I’m in public now. If he does have the answers I want, I don’t want to go through the trouble of setting up another meeting with him.
“You say someone tried to break into your hotel room last night?” I ask.
He stares at me for a second, considering, I think, whether to accept that I’m the one asking questions now. “It’s not just me who says it. It’s the hotel too.”
“Fair enough. That is what happened, though?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea who?”
“Only a handful of weak hunches. Nothing with any evidence behind it.”
That’s still more than I have now. “I’m happy to hear weak hunches. We have to start somewhere.”
“Several people from Springwater. None of their names would mean anything to you, and it could turn out that my intruder and yours are completely unrelated.”
“Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about that. What are the odds that two people from Springwater show up near me in such quick succession?”
“So, you do know the killer was from there?”
“Yep.” I pick my doughnut back up.
“Are you willing to tell me why you’re so sure?”
“Nope.”
“But you do know why?”
“Yes, I know exactly why.”
“Alright then. You’ll have to forgive me for guessing aloud for a moment. Did your mother, perhaps, tell you someone from there might be after her?”
For a split second, I go cold. I take another sip of my coffee to warm myself up, but I think he’s able to read me.
“Don’t worry,” he continues. “I’ve not been told to go after her, or anyone. That’s just the only scenario I can think of where you would suspect the killer was from Springwater, but not know anything else.”
I think about denying it. That would, perhaps, be the safer thing to do. I don’t think there’d be any point, though. I certainly wouldn’t fool him.
“Fine,” I say. “You’re right. She told me that someone from Springwater might come for her.” Not me, though. That’s a piece of information I’m still holding back.
“Did she tell you why?”
“No.”
“Well, if she was an enemy of the powers that be in Springwater, she was probably a friend to me.”
“Awesome. I’m glad you would have gotten along with her. Now, let’s back up for a second. You were asking me about the supernatural a minute ago. I just want to clarify one thing. Magic, is, in your opinion, real, correct?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on whether you’re f*cking insane.”
He sighs. “I’ve seen things human science can’t explain. Whether that makes those things ‘magic’ is more a question about the meaning of that word than about the things themselves.”
“If I knew everything you believed, would I think you were insane?”
“Probably.”
“So, it’s not something like speaking in tongues or someone’s horoscope sounding kind of right. It’s something obviously impossible?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, show me. Cast a spell or whatever.”
“First off, I can’t cast any spells. Second, we are in one of the country’s largest malls. Given that I’m hesitant to tell you what I’m talking about, I’m obviously not going to do the kind of demonstration you want in front of hundreds of witnesses. If I did that, the most likely result is that what happened to your mother would happen to everyone here.” He waves his arm to indicate everyone in the room.
There’s something so serious about how he said that. It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t something he’s the slightest bit unsure about. It was so grave and yet matter of fact that I can’t bring myself to doubt that he really believes it. “Fine. We can go back to your hotel room.”
“There’s nothing there I can show you either.”
“Can, or will?”
“We’re not yet to the point where there’s a difference.”
“Bullsh*t.”
“Look, I have an alternative proposal. I think you should come back to Springwater with me—”
That suggestion has me laughing. “Not in a million years.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because if there’s one thing I can be completely sure my mom would never want me to do, it’s that.”
“I guess I can understand that.” He takes another deep breath before speaking again. “Look, I understand why you’re being cautious. I’m doing it too. I have no right to complain. Believe it or not, I care, quite a bit, about whether you get hurt by this.”
“I’ve already been hurt.”
“Of course, but I think you know what I mean.”
Part of me wants to deny that I do, just to spite him, but he’s right. I do.
“However,” he continues, “I think you’re involved in things in a way that’s not going to let you hide from it. Whatever connection you have to this, I think you’re going to end up in Springwater eventually. Maybe you shouldn’t put it off.”
I contemplate for a moment whether he might be right. Something a lot like that is what mom always seemed to fear was the case. However, she seemed to think that if it was, we were done for. Whatever all of this is, she always wanted us to get away from it, and didn’t seem to think there was any prospect of fighting it. If I charge off to Springwater, after what happened to her, and get myself killed, that means she died for nothing.
I’m all she has. That’s even more true now that I’m her legacy. She wouldn’t want me to risk myself for anything, least of all something that requires me to trust someone from Springwater.
“I understand what you mean, but I can’t go there. She wouldn’t want me to. I’m going to give the police a chance to solve this.”
“They won’t. If this is really about the powers that be in Springwater hunting you down, there’s no way the police are going to figure out anything about it.”
“We’ll see. I have your number. I can call you if I change my mind.”
“I guess you can.”
We stare at one another for a moment. Despite what I said earlier, I think he really is just as frustrated by this conversation as I am. I can tell there’s something he wants that he isn’t getting. He can join the club. I can’t just jump into the nexus of everything that is hunting me.
“Alright,” I say. I take another bite of my doughnut. “Want the other one?” I say, gesturing at the box.
“No thanks. I’ve already had breakfast.”
I shrug. “More for me I guess.”
Nick is the one who leaves when our meeting finally ends. I stay put, in the food court, safe in the protective gaze of the crowd. Some of what he said makes sense in ways that make me uncomfortable, but I don’t think that means I can accept most of it. I can’t let myself get distracted by talk of magic and monsters. My mom wasn’t killed by magic. She was killed by a bullet to the head, the least mystical cause of death there is.
I’ve just about finished eating when I get a phone call. I check my phone. It’s from Sergeant. Barnes. I answer. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this a good time?”
“Yeah. I’ve not really got much to do right now.”
“Okay.” He pauses. “The lab people just got done doing some work on the bullet that killed your mother.”
“This fast? I thought this was supposed to take several days? Isn’t that why I had to get a hotel room?” Not that I got a hotel room, but there’s no reason he needs to know that.
“To fully process the scene, yes, but one of the many tests that involves just came back.”
“What is it?”
“It was the bullet. The one that killed your mother.” He hesitates again. “The bullet is made of silver.”
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