Page 15 of Welcome to Blackbird Hollow
Wanda always answers the phone like she knows who it is already, and maybe she does, but I identify myself anyway. “It’s Wyatt. Sector’s in town. Saw me at the Stardust loading salt, so I dropped it at Burt’s.”
“Got it,” she replies. “I’ll activate the phone tree. On about your business, sir.”
I chuckle and hang up, waving to Burt, who’s come to the back door of the gym. He stares long and hard at my truck, appraising the newcomer inside. In about an hour, the whole town’s gonna know about Alice. In under three minutes, Fallon’s gonna know.
I have maybe thirty minutes before she intervenes. More if she and Fern are still out. Less if they’re having lunch. I raise a hand to Burt and get back in the truck.
Alice staresat my kitchen like it’s a three-headed dog. Or maybe it’s me, making BLTs, that’s got her panties in a twist. A mistake. It was a mistake to think about her panties. Now all I can think about is her panties. Fuck.
Only one way to stop this train of thought. “So, you had questions for me?”
She stays quiet for a second, chewing on what to ask, I assume. “Are there not aliens, then?”
I shrug. “Who knows? There might be. But the prevalent thought that alien life has been causing all the recent troubles? Nah. It’s Them. You’re right about that.”
That seems to stun the curiosity right out of her. In fact, it looks like she might burst into tears. I have the odd urge to hug her. I keep to the stove, flipping the bacon. “Why’re you here?”
Her eyes are empty and lost. “The missing hikers… Following a lead.”
I already miss the firecracker from the parking lot. That sad look in her eyes is too tempting. Fallon always says I’ll bring home any stray that makes eyes at me, and she’s not wrong. It’s how I got Fern, after all.
I plop a BLT down in front of Alice. “For school? Did you say you’re a grad student?”
“Sort of,” she says.
My phone rings. Then it stops. Then it rings once more. I get up before it rings again. “Hey,” I say as I pick up halfway through the next ring. “I’m handling this.”
“Who the fuck is she?” Fallon asks, her voice quiet. “She showed up at the same time as Sector.”
I turn away from Alice, who is most definitely listening to every word I say. “Yes, and either that means something or nothing. Let me handle this.”
“You have ’til dinner,” Fallon agrees. “I expect to see her at my table by sundown. With explanations at the ready.”
I am about to hang up when she adds, “Check her, Wyatt. You check her for it or I will.”
There’s no need to respond; Fallon’s already hung up. I try not to slam the phone down. When I turn back to the table, Alice has finished her sandwich.
“Are you going to explain what that was about?” she asks.
I shake my head. Everyone’s so direct today, and usually that wouldn’t bother me, but right now it feels a little overwhelming. “Let me get straight to the point. Are you Sector?”
Her eyes practically bug out of her head, and then she laughs. “No. Are you?”
“No,” I reply, feeling irritated all of a sudden.
“Not as though I’d answer truthfully if I was,” she adds.
I pluck my plate off the table, no longer hungry for my BLT. “What do you know about hedgeriders?”
Alice frowns as I put my sandwich in the fridge. “Isn’t that an old word for a witch?”
Either she’s very good at pretending, or she’s not Sector. I’m still gonna have to check, but we can talk first. “Follow me.”
Her footsteps are soft behind me as I take her down the back hall to my office. I push the door open and let her through. My hope is that if I tell her something about me that Sector would already know, she might reveal something about herself.
“Hedgeriding is a little like witchery, but has a more defined purpose,” I explain.
She’s staring at my books, at the knives in the armory, the herbs on the shelves. This isn’t anything compared to the stores we have up at the house, but it keeps me from having to go up there if I need to leave on short notice.
