Your father?”
“Yeah.” Seymour nodded. “Thaddeus C. Carver. Clancy Carver. Clancy T. Carver.” He thumbed through the mail, reading off the many variations. “This is his place. It has to be.”
Sariel tilted his head. “Your father is the murdered witch?”
“I fuckin’ guess so!” Seymour looked over the apartment with a new level of scrutiny. “I don’t understand it. This is way too fucked up to be some kinda coincidence. Talos havin’ his will and him happenin’ to be the witch who was helpin’ him?”
Sariel frowned. “But you say that you never met, correct?”
“No. Maybe I met him when I was a baby or somethin’, but it’s not like I remember him. Didn’t even think he gave a single crap about me until I got the letter ’bout the will.”
Sariel scanned the apartment. “And nothing here looks familiar to you? Nothing strange or perhaps out of place?”
“How the hell would I know? Ain’t never met the man, remember?”
Sariel grabbed Seymour’s shoulders, turning him to face the living room. “Look again. Not with your eyes. With your heart.”
“That is corny as fuck?—”
“Look.”
“Okay, okay! Damn, bossy.” Seymour took a deep breath and tried to relax, glancing around the space once more. He caught Sariel eyeballing him, and he grinned. “You know, for the record, I kinda like that.”
“What?”
“You gettin’ all bossy. Grabbin’ me and pushin’ me ’round?—”
“Seymour!” Sariel hissed. “Focus!”
“Mm, yes,sir.” Seymour could practically taste Sariel blushing. He cleared his throat and tried to do as Sariel had suggested.
But look with his heart?
How did that even work? There wasn’t exactly an overflow of love pouring out of him for a man who wouldn’t accept responsibility for his own child. What sliver of grief Seymour had felt before had now morphed into resentment, eating at the pit of his stomach.
Right, because abandoning him hadn’t been bad enough, so now Seymour had to deal with monsters and magic and all sorts of other bullshit.
The three million dollars was a nice apology, but it wouldn’t do him any good if he was dead.
Shit.
Okay.
Time to focus.
Seymour stared at the wall, letting his eyes unfocus for a long moment. He couldn’t see a damn thing except what was already there. “This is stupid.”
Sariel gave him a gentle shake. “Anything?”
“No.”
“Should I shake you harder?”
“There’s nothing here!” Seymour groaned. “Just some stupid couch, a stupid table, stupid ass waterfalls…” He paused, giving the closest waterfall a second look. “Huh.”
“What is it?”
“The pictures.” Seymour stepped forward so he could examine them closer. “Holy shit.” He pointed. “This is Looking Glass Falls. That one over there is Hooker Falls. They’re all waterfalls in North Carolina. My mama and a bunch of her friends went out there when she was real young, spent a whole summer trying to hit up every waterfall in the state.”
