Page 2 of Dark Stars
That piqued Bobby's interest. Only foolstrifled with cats. He opened the folder and read. The girl,Brittany, had gone for a walk three nights ago with her cat, Petal."Three days?"
"Her parents are useless, like usual, andMelody only just got back from her quilting thing yesterday, so shedidn't know. She went to walk along the lake like she alwaysdoes."
"She's not supposed to do that at night,especially under a gibbous moon," Bobby replied, gnawing at hisbottom lip as he read more of the file, which was all of two sheetsof paper. "There's nothing in the lake that could have gotten her,but.." But the scant information was that her footsteps showed herwalking to the edge of the lake, and then being dragged into it."Strange indeed. What's the last case? I don't recognize the 'I'designation."
"It's the only one that's a code. I forInnsmouth." He rolled his eyes at Bobby's delighted look. "Don'tget excited, the only thing it has in common with the realInnsmouth is that it's a fucking hellscape."
"Why would thatnotexcite me?" Hewas salivating already. It had been a long time since he'd had agood snack.
Harold heaved the sigh of a man who'd beendoing this entirely too long. "It's not actually one place, but aloose triangle formed by three old towns. Old by human standards,anyway. One is near the coast, the others further inland, all aboutfour hours from each other. Plenty of other towns and shit betweenand around them, but the trouble is always inside the triangleformed by those three points. I nicknamed it the InnsmouthTriangle."
"Delicious." When that got him theDisapproving Look, Bobby said, "Delightful? What's the problem. Howcome you've never told me about this before?"
"Because the nearest point, the town ofMarsh, is six hours away from us."
Bobby pouted. "So I can't even do thatone."
"You could if I gave you permission," Haroldsaid.
Bobby reached up to toy with the collarwrapped around his throat, a narrow band of pearl gray leather intowhich thousands of minute arcana had been laid, confining him intime, place, shape, and more. "So what's happening that you'dlengthen my leash?"
"I'm not sure, but people are missing, otherpeople are acting strange, everyone I've called has mentioned anodd, fetid odor, strange sounds at night… Could be any number ofthings, but it would take more than one person for this manydisappearances in so short a frame, and if even one of them istruly sensitive…"
"Naughty cultists. Not my favorite snack,but not awful," Bobby said.
Harold chuckled. "Try to leave a few in somesort of usable condition if you take the job."
"Can I ponder?"
"Sure. Want to get coffee? I can help grabyour obscene number of books too. How many are you stealing fromthe library today?" Normally the librarians limited checkouts tothree, with special permission to take up to six granted to certaintrusted patrons.
Bobby they let take as many as he wanted,since the longest he'd ever kept a book was two days. "Coffeesounds delightful." He gathered up all the books he'd checked outthat day, a mix of new stuff and old favorites. Harold gathered upthe folders and helped him, though he kept getting distracted byactually looking at the books. "Stop reading about investigators,Bobby. It's rotting your brain about how this job actuallyworks."
"You'd like that one, but you can't havethat copy because you won't return it on time, and Mandy will getmad at me."
Harold laughed. "We're going to thebookstore, I'll see what I can do. I wish investigating murder wasthis exciting." He looked at the next book in the stack. "Morewerewolves?"
"You'd like that one too."
"Is there anything you haven't read?"
Bobby shrugged. "I can read about fivehundred books in a day, more if they're short. What do youthink?"
"I think you're hilarious. Come on, booknerd, let's go." He carried a stack of books under one arm, whileBobby carried the other three stacks, quietly casting them to belighter and to not fall. When the books were stowed in the chest inthe back of his pickup, he drove them from the library to theshopping center the local suburb overlords had tried really hard tomake resemble some postcard perfect small town main street.
Mostly it just looked like a bad render ofthe same, but the coffee was good, the bookstore did whatever hewanted, and his favorite restaurant didn't ask bothersomequestions.
Bobby led the way into the coffee shop—andstopped, grinning, as he spied who was on his way out. "Hello,Sheriff."
"Hello, Bobby." He scowled. "Legrasse."
Harold scowled right back. "Jones. Haven'tI—" He grunted as Bobby slammed an elbow into his gut. Forcing asmile, he said, "Good afternoon, nice to see you again."
Jones snorted. "Whatever you two are doing,keep the trouble to a minimum. I've got enough to deal with."
"We'll do our best, Sheriff," Bobbyreplied.
That got him more derisive noises, andJones' soft drawl came out more when he said, "Butter wouldn't meltin that mouth. Sure I'll see ya'll again soon." He settled his haton his head, touched the brim, and brushed by Harold close enoughto jar him slightly.
