“What do you mean you’re canceling our meeting? This is urgent!”
“Sorry, Aaron. I’m chasing a lead on Dante. I figured that would take precedence over a simple meeting.”
The phone line went silent, and Huck could feel Aaron’s blood pressure rising. After five seconds, Huck winced as he could hear a grunt of pure anger and frustration on the other side.
“Augh, fine. We push back our meeting to tomorrow, same time. Understood?”
“I mean, I can’t guare-”
“You son o- same time tomorrow. Understood?”
Huck sighed. “I’ll do my best to make it.”
The phone line cut out, and Huck rubbed his forehead wearily, before turning to the girl before him. Bera winced as she stared at the phone. “Man, I could hear that. Is he ok?”
Huck pocketed his phone. “Nah, he isn’t, but it’s fine. So, shall we continue?”
Bera fiddled with her nose ring. “I…guess? What did you want to know?”
Huck nodded to the hallway. “You sure she’s sleeping?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just checking. There’s a small chance that bounty hunters are in the town.”
Bera stopped fidgeting with her nose ring, the blood draining from her face. Her mouth opened, but no questions came out, the panic in her eyes instead speaking volumes.
The sheriff held up a hand. “Relax, it isn’t guaranteed. I might just be paranoid, but even in the worst case scenario the bounty hunters are on the wrong side of town, meaning they don’t know anything.”
Bera quietly hugged her shoulders, a mild tremble visible in her pinky fingers. Huck pursed his lips, then continued with the information he had. “They were speaking Spanish, so the bounty was probably on some Spanish board. The guys were found in the ghetto, so pretty far from your house and the bar. I’m looking into it, b-”
Bera sharply looked up, fear in her eyes. “Should we run?”
Huck shook his head. “No. Moving preemptively is a poor decision. If they aren’t bounty hunters, then you would be ditching a secure location. If they are bounty hunters, then no doubt they’re surveilling the surrounding area, bringing more attention to anyone leaving the town.”
Bera swallowed heavily. “So…what now?”
Huck rubbed his neck. “I need to ask a few questions about your parents again to double check information, is that fine?”
Bera slowly nodded. “Anything you need.”
Huck pulled out his laptop from his backpack, setting it up on the kitchen countertop as Bera quietly hugged her arms. Once a few minutes passed and Huck was fully set up, he nodded to the shivering singer and began asking his questions calmly. Bera swallowed heavily. “So…what now?”
Huck rubbed his neck. “I need to ask a few questions about your parents again to double check information, is that fine?”
Bera slowly nodded. “Anything you need.”
Huck pulled out his laptop from his backpack, setting it up on the kitchen countertop as Bera quietly hugged her arms. Once a few minutes passed and Huck was fully set up, he nodded to the shivering singer and began asking his questions calmly.
“What’s your and your sister’s names?
“...Bera Fe and Zephia Fe.”
He nodded as he typed. “Do you have any living relatives?”
The amateur diva’s eyes watered, but she wiped her eyes quickly. “No. Me and my sister only have each other. Our parents committed suicide.”
“And do you know the reason?”
“...Probably because they were in a craplo-they were in tons of debt. They liked gambling, and…yeah. You know.”
The sheriff calmly nodded. So far, there were zero discrepancies. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and quietly handed it to the singer, who accepted it graciously.
He cleared his throat. “Do you know who or what company they borrowed money from?”
Bera hugged her stomach tightly as she pursed her lips. “I don’t know. It isn’t fair. Why is this happening? Wh-”
She sharply inhaled, bit her lip in defiance, and looked up to the ceiling with shiny eyes.
Huck quietly typed away. “...and you said you have no idea how they tracked you?”
Bera quickly shook her head, clamping her trembling jaw.
“You swear you haven’t uploaded anything online?”
Bera laughed, a quick shimmer flashing down her cheek. She wiped her face with Huck’s handkerchief.
“Look, it's expensive to buy food. How would I afford a laptop, much less an internet plan?”
The sheriff quietly nodded, typing down the last few responses. He then closed the laptop and made direct eye contact with the woman. She sniffled, but locked eyes with him.
“This isn’t related to the questionnaire whatsoever, so be honest: do you want to live? Do you genuinely enjoy your life?”
Bera clenched Huck’s handkerchief and bit hard on her lip. His question seemed completely out of pocket to any bystander, but Huck knew that it would speak deeply to the amateur singer. After a minute of silence, she opened her mouth and spoke softly.
“Of course I want to live.”
Huck’s brow softened, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crinkled ten dollar bill. She stared at the bill, then quickly dabbed at her face while wearing a small scowl.
“...I can’t take that. You’ve already done so much for us.”
The man rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one giving it to you, a drunkard from yesterday wanted to tip you after your shift ended. He gave it to Gus, and Gus gave it to me. So…”
Bera hesitated, and took the bill. “If that’s the case, then fine. Thank you.”
She stuffed the bill in her pockets quickly, then hesitated. She looked up with concern to the sheriff packing up his bags.
“...Am I allowed to continue performing?”
Huck glanced over his shoulder, another wrinkle forming under his eye. “If I told you to stay home, would you?”
Bera hugged her shoulders and hung her head. Huck pinched the bridge of his nose. Emotions sucked. They were suboptimal, and consistently goaded humans into making worse decisions. And yet…there was tremendous value behind such stupidity. Lorraine had taught him that.
Huck slung his backpack over his shoulder and waved an arm of dismissal at Bera. “You can keep singing. You’ll be fine.”
Bera let out a deep sigh, a bit of light returning to her face. “That’s reassuring to hear. Thanks.”
...
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Huck returned and dressed up in an extra large gray hoodie, with slashed denim jeans. It was a ridiculous combo, something Huck would never wear. This meant that anyone unfamiliar with him would never be able to recognize the sheriff.
He walked over to the Ghetto, keeping his eye peeled around alleyways and dumpsters. Finally, after a few minutes, he found what he was looking for: a twitching, orange-eyed homeless woman.
He approached her, and nodded. “Hey. You running out of Flicker?”
The woman’s head jerked slightly, as her eyes slowly gazed up at the figure blocking out the sun. She scowled, rubbing her scarred arms.
“Whoer fucker you?”
Huck kneeled down, pulling out a bag of sharp, orange crystals from his hoodie pocket. The hobo’s orange-cracked eyes widened, her arms slowly reaching to the baggie. Huck pulled the bag away.
“Let’s make a deal. You do what I want, and I give you the baggie tomorrow.”
The feral woman scowled slowly. “Liar.”
Huck rolled his eyes as he opened up the goody bag and threw the lady a crystal. Though her eyes were wide, her arms were slow to react to the crystal, only being able to calmly pick it off the floor a few seconds after it had landed.
“That’s a down payment. You believe me yet?”
The woman’s right hand fumbled with the crystal as she identified the sharpest point, as her left hand snatched a lighter off the floor next to her. She flicked it on, quickly heating the crystal, and then stabbed her arm with it. The pain never registered to the woman, and she grinned as her eyes lulled to the back of her skull.
Huck checked his watch. A crystal of that size would normally last one hour, but she was extremely far gone: it would wear off in ten minutes. Huck would deal with her later, after she had carried out her side of the bargain. After seven minutes of muttering, the woman’s eyes slowly began to focus again.
She scowled. “Bah. More.”
Huck shook his head. “This entire bag is yours, if you agree to my proposal.”
Her arms desperately reached out to the fuzzy figure in front of her. “Please. Anything.”
...
Huck quietly watched from the street corner, lying down on the concrete floor. Seeing as this was the Ghetto, standing up attracted more attention than lying down. A person standing up could be anyone. A dealer, a prostitute, an informant… the possibilities were endless. However, only a druggie would be on the floor, so they were ignored. Huck’s eyes were trained on the homeless woman from before, as she shuffled slowly towards some individuals wearing plaid button up shirts next to a stop sign. As she passed the small group, Huck noticed the group stop their conversation, and turn to listen to the mutterings of the deranged lady. One of the members reached out and grabbed her shoulder, to which she glanced over, spat at the man, then shrugged her arm away. The group began to mutter to each other and began pulling out phones to quickly make phone calls. After a few minutes, a car pulled up to the group. They all piled into the minivan, and drove off rapidly.
The deal he had made was simple. She was to walk past the group, mutter the sisters’ names, and the name of a town that was about sixty miles away from Blackerd. If the group tried to stop the hobo, she would act like a druggie and ignore them. After doing this once, she would return to the dumpster tomorrow and receive payment.
Huck stayed on the ground for twenty extra minutes for assurance, got up, dusted himself off, then walked back to the station. After half an hour of walking, Huck had left the Ghetto and reached the police station. He pulled out his keys, jiggled with the doorknob for a brief moment, then entered. The sheriff sat down at his desk, powered up his computer, then began to pull out some files as his computer warmed up. Once everything was ready, he began to type out a report to Aaron. After all, Huck did cancel their meeting last minute, so the mayor deserved to at least be updated on the situation of Blackerd’s ghetto. Of course, Huck omitted any information about Bera and Zephia’s bounty. If Aaron knew about it, no doubt he would have them evicted from Blackerd within a week.
After sending the email, Huck’s phone began to ring within minutes. Huck sighed, only having to glance at the caller ID briefly to know who it was. Though he was alone, Huck felt Aaron breathing down his neck. He tapped his phone a few times, then held it up to his ear.
“Yeah?”
“Are you at the station, yes or no?”
“Well, yeah, b-”
“Excellent. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
The line went flat, and Huck pulled the phone away from his ear in mild disbelief. Aaron rarely pulled impromptu, well, anything. Guess he was more pissed than let on.
Ten minutes passed. As Huck shuffled some papers around his desk to keep his mind and fingers busy, a sharp knock interrupted his solitude. Huck looked up at the door, rubbing his neck.
“Yeah, come in.”
Aaron opened the door with sharp eyes, but those eyes turned to confusion as he looked at Huck’s attire. “What’s with the get up?”
Huck looked down at his hoodie. “Eh, decided to poke around the Ghetto. Figured I could get more results like this as opposed to a uniform.”
Aaron pulled out a chair, and plopped down in it, placing his briefcase at his side. “Fair. Now, you had information about the shooting?”
Huck frowned. “You didn’t read the email? I wrote all specifics down in there.”
Aaron rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “I’m just confirming what you wrote down. So, what’d you find?”
The sheriff tapped away at his computer, opening up a few files. “Essentially, it’s bounty hunters. They’re after someone in the Ghetto presumably. Seeing as the majority of these guys speak Spanish, the bounty was posted on a Spanish board.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “How did you find all this out?”
Huck shrugged. “I asked around. I poked around. I even interviewed Dante like you would’ve wanted. There’s zero correlation to their bounty and Blackerd. However, Dante… ‘dislikes’ these guys. So, there’s a bit of a gang war.”
Aaron scowled. “Bah. Should just kill ‘em all. It’d be safer and faster.”
Huck frowned. “Not even remotely true. If the police, which I remind you is just myself, shows resistance, then it looks as if the entire town is harboring whomever they’re looking for. News will spread, and more reinforcements will show up. They’d raze Blackerd to the ground, and only then will they realize that there’s nothing of value here.”
“First off, Blackerd has value. Secondly, why would a sheriff doing his job result in reinforcements? Other cities would do the same, no?”
Huck opened up a few files and websites, then turned his monitor to Aaron. “You aren’t wrong: there isn’t anything inherently wrong with me doing my job. However, despite being bounty hunters, these guys aren’t the smartest. They’ll find any justification they can to cause damage. It’s some sort of power tripping mentality.”
Aaron scanned the screen, his face turning more slack as he continued reading. “Wait… are these…”
“Yeah. Other cities and towns who got raided. It isn’t too common, but it does happen, even more so with towns that have smaller police forces. So, if I were to show up by myself to a group of bounty hunters, what image do you think that sends them?”
Aaron cursed under his breath, as he nervously tapped the desk. “You said Dante’s in a gang war with them? What if Dante dies? Like…if yo-”
Huck held up his hand. “Wouldn’t work. Dante is actually a massive boon, since he’s the one taking agro. Without Dante, they would scour the Ghetto, then this part of Blackerd. If Dante dies, then there’s nothing stopping these guys from raiding this entire town.”
Aaron massaged his jaw. “Ah.”
There was some truth in what he had said as well. Though he had given the bounty hunters a red herring, Huck wasn’t sure if it would actually work. On the realistic chance that they returned, Dante was the only hurdle stopping the hunters from widening their search. If Dante was killed, well…
Aaron coughed. “Is there anything we…no. Is there anything I can do?”
Huck scratched his neck. “A few things, but none of them are direct.”
“Anything for Blackerd.”
The sheriff nodded, scribbled a few things on a notepad, then ripped out the paper and handed it over to Aaron. “I just need these documents. Is it possible?”
Aaron scanned the paper, frowning. “I mean…yeah…but these seem so unrelated to this situation. Moving documents? Vacancy listings? An alphabetized citizen list? Why do you need these?”
Huck crossed his arms. “It’s related to me looking into any potential squatters and stuff. On the off chance that the person these guys are looking for is hiding in a vacant house…well…”
The mayor nodded. “Ok, that’s fair. It’ll be complicated, but I’ll try to get them to you as soon as possible. Do you want me to drop it off to you at your house?”
Huck shook his head. “Nah, that’s fine. Just give me the papers the next time we meet. Also, I should mention that even with these documents, there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to make things better. Cool?”
Aaron nodded, before opening up his briefcase and slipping a few papers over to Huck. The sheriff raised an eyebrow, receiving the papers. As he read the contents, his eyelids grew more heavy.
“This is about that homeless woman in Blackerd. She’s been causing problems for a long while now. No clear sign of improvements. You know what I’m getting at, right?”
Of course Huck knew. He had talked to her about an hour ago, Huck had seen how far gone she was firsthand. “...Yeah. I get it.”
Aaron nodded, then stood up. Huck sat at his deck as his dry eyes read the papers over and over. The mayor hesitated, then stuck his hand out to the sheriff. Huck slowly looked up, then quietly lifted his arm to receive the handshake, to which Aaron firmly shook.
“I know we have plenty of differences, but I do respect and appreciate all you do for Blackerd. What we do is bigger than ourselves, remember that.”
Huck stayed silent as Aaron let go and exited the building. The only noise that rang in the room was the loud hum of the AC unit blasting cold air. Huck was so tired of his job. His duties. His responsibilities. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, be it two minutes or an hour. All he wanted to do was…rest. If Lorraine were in his shoes, she would hype herself up by breaking the silence with a scream, and then get to work.
However… Huck wasn’t Lorraine. He didn’t have as much tenacity as her, nor did he have her willpower. So why did everyone shove their responsibilities and complaints onto him? Why did people not just… do what they’re supposed to do? Why couldn’t things just work out as intended without his input?
Huck closed his eyes and put his forehead on his desk, reminiscing over a small exchange he had with Lorraine. It was a Christmas party at the church, and Lorraine was in charge of nearly everything. She had happily accepted the tasks and began to slowly grind away at the large list. As she was cutting out snowflakes, he sat down and stared at her.
‘Hey.’
Without looking over, she nodded as she focused on cutting. ‘Yeah, hun?’
‘Why did you agree to do everything? It isn’t your responsibility.’
‘Well…someone’s gotta do it, right? If not me, then who?’
Huck frowned as he gestured to the mess on the floor. ‘I don’t know, but someone would do it.’
Lorraine finished cutting her snowflake, and unfolded it to examine the pattern. Satisfied, she grinned and held it up to Huck. Huck held back a smile and quietly examined the fine detailing on the cutout.
As he did, Lorraine pointed out the tiny details with enthusiasm. ‘See? Look at this little snip. Look at that shape. You see?’
Huck sighed. ‘Yeah, I see. Bu-’
‘Do you think ‘someone else’ could have done that?’
Huck hesitated. ‘Well…no, but-’
Lorraine nodded. ‘See, I agree with you. I don’t trust anyone to make something so detailed either. I’m the damn best at everything.’
She put down the snowflake in a box full of completely snowflakes, and locked eyes with Huck. ‘This isn’t about equality or fairness. I’m just doing this because no one else can do it better than me, and I’m being selfish in doing everything.’
She picked up another piece of paper and began folding. ‘Until the day comes by where someone is better than me at everything, I’m gonna do everything myself, because I sure as hell can’t trust a stranger to have a standard of excellence.’
Huck quietly watched Lorraine as she folded up her paper and began to cut. ‘Don’t you get tired?’
Lorraine laughed. ‘Obviously, but that’s more of a reason to keep doing everything. After all, if a genius like myself gets tired from this task, then imagine your average joe doing what I do. I’d feel sorrow for the idiot being tasked with my responsibilities, ya feel?’
Huck wasn’t sure what to feel. On one hand, he agreed with nearly everything Lorraine had said, but he also felt bad for her position. Having made up his mind, he picked up a piece of paper.
‘Show me how to make one.’
She looked over and grinned. ‘You? You have as much delicacy as a T-rex.’
Huck looked down in embarrassment as Lorraine giggled. ‘Hey, sue me for trying to help.’
Lorraine coughed as she stifled her laughs. ‘You’re right, sorry. Ok, so…
...
That was possibly one of his fondest memories of her. It was a day where he learned about her character and when he himself adopted some of her work ethic. Huck wasn’t in a mood to work, but that was more of a reason to work. After all, who could he trust to properly do his job?
He raised his head, deeply inhaled, and slapped his thighs. It was time to prepare for tomorrow’s events.
...
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Huck’s work was interrupted by some abrupt knocking at his door. He looked up, mildly surprised.
“Come in?”
The door swung open to a balding man who looked as if he were in his mid-forties. Huck got up to extend his arm to the stranger, who took it and returned a firm, yet sweaty, handshake.
“Good day sir, how can I help you?”
The man wiped away at his shiny forehead with his sleeve, and offered an anxious smile as he plopped his bottom into a cushy chair. “Goodeh, off-sir. I’m lookin’ for a young boy, around fifteen?”
Huck’s fingers stopped rustling papers just briefly, before resuming activity. The possibility was small, but…
“What is the young man’s name?”
“Joel, off-sir.”
Huck nodded, and slowly opened up a file cabinet as his mind raced at a tremendous speed. “I see. Could you fill out this form for me?”
Huck handed the man a blank form with a pen, to which the man received with a sheepish grin. After a few minutes, the stranger returned both the pen and paper to the sheriff. Huck received both with a small nod, and quietly read the chicken scratch that was scattered across the form. It was barely legible, but after confirming that the information could be deciphered, Huck pointed out some information.
“So would this number and email be the best way to reach you, Mr…?”
“Giddles, off-sir. Ricky Giddles. And yeh, that information is the best weh to reach me.”
“I see.” Huck stood up to offer another handshake, to which Mr. Giddles suddenly got up to enthusiastically receive the invitation. After shaking hands, Huck nodded and gestured to the door. “I’ll look into my database to see if I can find any information about Joel…Luck?”
“Joel Lee, sir.”
“Joel Lee, my apologies. I’ll reach out if any information pops up, thank you for your time sir.”
The greasy man frowned and shook his head. “Off-sir. Joel is in this town, I know that as a fact.”
Huck frowned as he leaned forward. “Oh? How do you know with such certainty?”
Mr. Giddles’s stare turned dark, and a scowl grew on his face. “Bah. I know that the fucker ran here. Trust me, off-sir. He’s hiding in this town.”
The sheriff raised an eyebrow. “I…see. Very well, I’ll look for him. Thank you for your time.”
The shadow from Mr. Giddle’s eyes vanished as an unnerving glow shone in his smile. “Ah see! Thank you, off-sir! I’ll be waiting!”
As Mr. Giddles waved an enthusiastic farewell as he exited the small office, the sheriff rubbed his face as he tried to compose himself. However, as Huck scanned the form that Mr. Giddles had left behind, he couldn’t help but feel more and more bewildered with each passing description.
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Observer’s Personal Information
Observer’s name: Ricky Giddles
Observer’s Phone number: (XXX)-(XXX)-(XXXX)
Observer’s Email address: XXX@XXXX.com
Observer’s Home address: 127XX xxxxx Ave, Jackson, XX, 192XX
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Missing Person Information
Name of missing person: Joel Lcc
Relation to missing person: Spa-owner
Person who made last contact: My son, Bob Giddles
Date of Last contact: XX/XX/20XX
Location of Last contact: My spahouse, 127XX xxxxx Ave, Jackson, XX, 192XX.
Additional information: This fucker boy is the prime suspect in the murder of my son. He must be found and held responsible.
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36Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJZcZlGTT5p
Huck sat down at his desk, completely stunned. The kid, a murder suspect? What? The same boy who was too timid to ask for a cup of water? The same boy who was too shy to ask for a ride home after school? That kid? The same kid who ran from another town by himself in the rain? The same kid who had stains on his clothes that wouldn’t come out after a single wash? The same kid who seemed extremely reserved against a sheriff the day they met? The same kid that refused to share any bit of information to Huck, no matter how insignificant the information seemed? …That…kid…?
Oh. So it was possible.
Huck put down the form on his desk and rubbed his neck. The facts said it was possible. The law would demand that Joel be turned over...but Huck’s gut? It told him to dig deeper. It told him that there was much more to the story, and that turning in Joel to the man could potentially be a mistake. The man, Mr. Giddles, seemed deeply angry and unstable. If Joel did end up being found guilty, and Mr. Giddles could meet up with the kid…
No. That could never happen. Huck’s weary eyes crinkled with more determination than before. He would delay Joel’s ‘search’ as much as possible, and try to dig as deep as he could into Joel’s background. Once all the facts were on the table, Huck would make a decision.
First, the bounty hunters. Then, the homeless woman. Now, Joel. Today sucked.
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