‘You’re the only person I know who says “whatever” and then keeps on defending themselves. Most people say “whatever” and they mean “whatever”. They mean “whatever you think”, so they don’t bother saying any more.’
‘Jesus, you are anal. You try to shut me up based on linguistics? You think that’s going to work?’
‘Oh Lord, no. Nothing works with you. Nothing.’
Ren stared at him, her eyes alight.
‘So, do you think you’re better off without me?’ said Vincent.
‘What do you want me to say to that?’ said Ren. ‘No answer is good. I’m fine, OK?’
‘I know I shouldn’t, and I don’t really want to, actually, but I care about you, Ren. So much.’ He touched a hand to her cheek.
She looked into his eyes and could feel hers well up too. ‘Shit,’ she said. ‘Shit.’
‘Hey, at least you’re having an emotion,’ said Vincent.
* * *
Salem Swade looked like he’d just stepped out of a wind tunnel he had no recollection of going into; it was in the angles of his thin gray hair, the speed of his blinks, how he spun on his heels.
He stood, dressed in a giant green parka, gray cotton pants and leg-warmers, with the smoking attorneys outside the Sheriff’s Office. He had watercolor-blue eyes that should have been called striking or beautiful, but on a disheveled old man, talking and walking alone down Main Street, people looked at them like they were stolen.
‘You dudes are slaves,’ said Salem, smiling.
The attorneys laughed. ‘Yes, sir,’ said one of them.
Salem tipped him with his elbow. ‘You get any lucky breaks today?’
‘We’re still here,’ said the attorney, deadpan.
‘As a witness to potentially suspicious activity,’ said Salem, ‘I might be giving Sheriff Gage a lucky break myself.’
‘Good for you. You want a cigarette?’
‘I do second-hand smoke,’ he said.
‘Glad to be of service,’ said the guys.
Salem nodded. ‘You boys behave.’ He nodded again. ‘I’m going in.’ He slapped his thigh and a scruffy black-and-white border collie uncurled from her spot under the bench behind them. Mike Delaney met them in the foyer to take them through security.
‘How you doing, Salem?’ said Mike. ‘Thanks for coming in so late.’
‘I’m doing good.’
Mike brought him through to reception.
‘Let me tie Misty here to your flagpole,’ said Salem.
‘Sure, go ahead.’
They left Misty and went down the hallway to Bob’s office. They walked past a board with the FBI’s Most Wanted on it. Salem pointed to a man with a handsome face, fair hair and sharp cheekbones. ‘Now, him I’ve seen. That guy.’
‘Uh-huh?’ said Mike. ‘Really? That’d make you the first since he disappeared.’
Salem smiled wide. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘First is good. Damn right. I never come first.’
‘Well, today’s your lucky day, then. What was he doing, this guy?’
‘Wearing a mask.’
‘Right. This happen at Hallowe’en time?’
‘Couldabeen. It was a couple weeks back, right in December there, but couldabeen.’
‘Right. So this mask covered his face?’
Salem nodded, holding his hand over his mouth.
‘And behind this mask, you saw this guy right here?’ He smiled as he pointed at the poster.
‘It was clear. Exactly,’ said Salem. ‘You’re a smart kid.’
Mike laughed. ‘Not as smart as you, buddy. You got vision like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s like superhero X-ray shit.’ He laughed.
‘Mike, give the guy a break,’ said Bob, walking into the hallway. ‘Come in, Salem.’ He shook his hand. ‘We’ll have an extra pair of hands here today. A lady called Ren Bryce. She’ll be along in a little while. She’s an FBI Agent. You’ll like her.’
Salem nodded. ‘I’ll do my best
Ren placed each foot down carefully on the icy steps up to the Sheriff’s Office. She held her arm out for balance. When she was nearly there, her right leg shot out and she landed hard on her left side. Her hand scraped down the edge of the concrete.
‘Ow, you fuckers,’ she said.
The attorneys flicked away their cigarettes and ran to her.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Ow,’ she said, sitting up. ‘I have no idea.’
‘Here,’ said one of them, taking her gently under the elbow, ‘let’s get you standing, see what the damage is.’
‘Oh, I’m scarred for life,’ said Ren. ‘It’s these boots,’ she said, kicking a foot out.
‘Ah, they were the fuckers. We thought it was us.’
She laughed. ‘No. I don’t know you well enough to work that out. No, these boots – already today – have been covered in bodily fluids …’ She paused to push her hair back behind her ear. They were staring at her. ‘At an autopsy!’ she said. ‘Jesus, guys.’
They laughed.
‘New boots for you, then,’ said one of them.
‘My most extreme excuse for a shopping trip yet,’ said Ren. ‘Thanks for your help.’
‘Any time.’
She gave them a small wave as she disappeared into the building.
Misty lay by the flagpole in the Sheriff’s Office reception, but stood up when Ren walked in.
‘Aw, hello, there,’ said Ren, ‘How cute are you?’
She walked over to her. Misty sat down and started barking.
‘Whoa,’ said Ren. ‘Not liking me very much.’
She took another step toward her. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I’m not all bad.’ She reached out under her collar to look for an ID, but she found nothing ‘And who might you be?’ Misty barked a few more times.
Bob strolled through reception. He looked down at Ren. ‘Are you causing a disturbance?’
‘Who’s the dawg?’
‘That is Misty, canine companion of Salem Swade, the Vietnam vet – our guy in the cabin. Hmm – she doesn’t seem to be a fan of yours.’
He reached out his hand to pull Ren up.
‘I’m a little hurt by that, actually,’ said Ren. ‘Dogs don’t usually bark at me.’
‘You’ll get over it,’ said Bob.
‘I think she’s looking for treats,’ said Ren.
‘She’s come to the wrong place,’ said Bob.
‘So,’ said Ren. ‘Fill me in on Salem Swade. I only had a short note on him for the briefing.’
‘Yeah,