‘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
22
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, that was from me. Sorry about that. It’s just we’re used to him here. Basically, he showed up a couple days ago with tales of people up in the woods, wearing masks, some shit like that.’
‘Okaay.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘But, obviously, we can’t ignore the fact he saw Jean’s lesbo-mobile at the Brockton Filly the Monday after she finished up work.’
‘Sheriff Robert Gage, I would expect better from you,’ said Ren.
‘My sister calls it that herself,’ said Bob. ‘Give me a break.’
‘How did Mr Swade know it was Jean’s?’ She paused. ‘Don’t tell me — from the description in the paper.’
Bob smiled. ‘Why, yes.’
‘So, you’re used to him — meaning he shows up with revelations on every case you handle? Or just you’re used to him about the place?’
‘In fairness to Salem, he’s not a crank that way. But he does try to help us with things — ’
‘Like, if he reads about them in the paper, for example?’
‘Well, we haven’t issued him with a police radio …’
Ren smiled.
‘… Miss Smarty Pants. And how else do concerned citizens know what the Sheriff’s Office needs?’
‘Pillow talk?’ said Ren.
Bob shook his head slowly. ‘What you’re seeing right now is a look known as “wistful”.’
‘Aw.’
‘Why don’t you come say hi to Mr Swade?’
‘Sure.’
Bob looked at the torn skin across her hand. ‘What happened to you?’
‘Dead people’s insides. Icy patch. Dumb boots. I’m going shopping later.’
‘My wife blames clothes for things too.’
Ren glanced down at him. ‘Does she blame your clothes… for that little problem you’re having?’
Mike was still giving Salem a hard time about identifying people through masks.
‘Damn right,’ Salem continued, nodding at Ren when he walked in. ‘Nothing wrong with these.’ He pointed two index fingers at his eyes.
‘Salem, meet Special Agent Ren Bryce.’
‘Hi, Salem.’ Ren shook his hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘Hello,’ said Salem, ‘a pleasure to meet you.’ He turned back to Mike. ‘Super vision. That’s what you tell me, buddy.’
‘That’s what I tell you,’ said Mike.
‘And you all are the sheriffs,’ said Salem. ‘You know shit.’ He pointed at Ren. ‘She knows everybody.From Mohammed Ali to teachin’ Bruce Lee how to do karate.’
Ren laughed, then finished for him: ‘I can lead a parade while puttin’ on shades in my Maserati.’
Bob and Mike looked at each other and back at Ren and Salem.
She turned to them. ‘It’s John Prine. Genius. “She Is My Everything”. Go to iTunes. Anyone who can write “Jesus, The Missing Years” …’
‘Got my music here, anyone wants a listen,’ said Salem. He rooted around in his pocket and pulled out a pink iPod Shuffle and clipped it to his coat. He hung the headphones around his neck.
‘Well, fuck me,’ said Mike. ‘Where’d you get your hands on that? Where do you even charge it? You got a laptop in your other pants?’
Salem patted his pockets. ‘Can’t say that I do. The pod is from the kids work at the resort. Good kids. Take it in, charge it, load it, give it back to me at the Gold Pan.’
Bob laughed. ‘Well, why the hell not?’
‘Damn right,’ said Salem. ‘Beats that silence up in my cabin any day. That mountain silence. Sometimes it’s just got the wind to keep it company.’
‘Take a seat, Salem. What do you need to tell us?’
Salem shook off his parka. He was slight and wiry.
‘I hear stuff at night,’ he said, sitting down.
Behind his back, Mike stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Bob glanced up at him.
‘Go on,’ said Ren. ‘What do you hear?’
‘Voices.’
Mike gazed at the ceiling.
‘What kind of voices?’ said Bob.
‘Quiet ones.’
‘Do you have your headphones on when this happens, Salem?’ said Mike.
Salem turned around to him. ‘Now you tell me how I could hear a damn thing with headphones in my ears?’
‘Go ahead,’ said Ren.
‘I saw people with masks on,’ said Salem. ‘Some of them were in funny suits. And I’m not talking aliens,’ he said, turning back to Mike. ‘They were regular people.’
‘What were they doing?’ said Bob.
‘They were walking around, then they headed out, maybe to one of the other cabins.’ He shrugged. ‘It was hard to tell what the point of this was.’
‘What kind of masks?’ said Ren.
‘These kind,’ said Salem, slapping a hand over his mouth.
‘Not Hallowe’en masks,’ said Mike.
‘I told you — no,’ said Salem. ‘But it was dark.’