Page 65 of Phobia
“Uh huh. Me too. You know how many kids get hit by cars today?”
“Twice as likely today over any other day of the year,” I answered glumly, reciting a stat that had been drilled into us in one of my public safety classes.
“Not only that, but what school did you just zip by?”
I looked around, mapping the city in my brain. “The rich one.”
“Exactly. If you’re going to work here you have to know who to steer clear of and the snobby assholes who send their kids to King Street Academy would love nothing more than a lawsuit. They don’t need the money. They do it for fun. They also run this town, remember?” He rolled his shoulders back, his gun belt creaking. “What’s with the truck?”
“Huh?” I figured it was best to play dumb, even though those sick photos were practically burning a hole in my pocket, screaming for the chief to have me step out for a random pat down.
“That piece of shit you were trying to catch up with. This a road rage thing?”
Oh shit… so hehadrealized what I was doing. This wasn’t just about kids’ safety then, or lecturing me on whose ass to kiss once I was sworn in at Winslow PD.
“Thought I knew them,” I said quickly, trying to shrug nonchalantly.
“I see.” Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I was fairly certain he was squinting at me, assessing whether or not I was being remotely honest.
After a moment, he patted my door. “Watch the speed, Galvan. And be careful tonight. Got a feeling it’s going to be crazier than usual.”
“What makes you say that?”
He looked around slowly, surveying the quiet little town like he was seeing past the perfection to something else, something he didn’t want to name out loud. “Call it a gut feeling.”
With that, he walked back to his squad. He didn’t bother waiting for me before he pulled out into traffic again and turned off his lights, leaving me gaping after him on the side of the road.
Thrilled as I was not to get a ticket or be caught with felonious photos in my pants, I couldn’t help the sense of dread Treadwell’s parting words inspired. I was already on edge and that just made it ten times worse.
All things considered, the truck could wait. I needed to get back to Jamie’s before he got home and the fucking monster’s ghost wallpapered his apartment with trophies.
***
“Are you ok?” Jamie asked approximately two seconds after he walked in the door, his blue eyes darting around the living room as I stopped pacing.
“Have you seen him today?”
“No. Why?”
“Just had this weird feeling…”
“What kind of feeling?” He snagged me by my pockets and tugged me forward but from the way his brows furrowed, I knew he felt the polaroids. “What is—”
I grabbed his wrist and held him in place, just in case he got the idea to pull them out. “I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want to show you either.”
Worry creased his forehead. “Ok… can you tell me something about it?”
“Someone left these for me today. In town. They’re pictureshetook.”
“Of…? You?”
“No. Other kids.”
“And you think it was him?”
“I know it was. How else would these have gotten here?”
“Well, I haven’t seen him since the other night when he—” He cleared his throat and looked away. “And he’s not here now.”
