Maybe it was time to push this into the no-turning-back territory.
“Those men don’t have anything to do with your architecture business, do they?”
“Delaney.”
“They came here because they are a part of an agency. A group. Of hunters.”
Yep. I was putting cards on the table. No turning back. Pressuring him to react.
“A group of hunters,” he said. Was his voice a little tighter? “What are they going to hunt on the Oregon coast in August? Crabs?”
“Vampires.”
He held his breath.
That. That was enough of a tell. He knew. He knew about the hunters. Or vampires. Or both.
His eyebrows lifted up, and he exhaled on what sounded like a forced laugh. “Vampires? Are you bingeing on Buffy again?”
Nope. Not believing him. Too flippant, too tight, his voice too thin.
“Is that one of your questions?”
“No.”
“That group, and I’m assuming you by association, are here in town looking for vampires. I’m assuming you’ve either been hired by someone who trained you how to kill vampires, or you are working for an agency developed for the same reason.”
“I’m an architect,” he protested.
“And a shitty liar.”
We stood there, silent again and it felt like if one of us blinked, we would be declaring a surrender.
“Truth,” I said. “I know more about this town than you ever will, Ryder. And vampires amongst us is just scratching the surface of the weird here.”
“I don’t—”
I held up one finger. “Think very carefully about what you’re about to say. I am the law here. Law of this city, county, state, country, and above all that, law of Ordinary. I have vowed to keep Ordinary’s citizens safe. All of them. No matter their race, creed, or other circumstances. I failed Sven. But that doesn’t mean I will fail to bring his killer to justice. I’m brutally efficient at keeping the peace. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“That you believe vampires are real, and you might actually be a mob boss?”
“That I believe I have enough evidence to haul you in on murder charges. Unless you start talking and trust me to do my job to prove you’re innocent.”
“Iaminnocent! You’re the one telling me over and over that I’m guilty.”
“I’m trying to trust you here, Ryder. Could you trust me back a little?”
“Is that one of your questions?”
“Yes.”
“I’m trying.”
His jaw tightened and flexed, and his eyes narrowed, creasing lines in the corners and between his eyebrows. Finally, he uncrossed his arms and stuck one hand in his back pocket. It was a stance he took when he was unsure or going out on a limb.
“We’re going to take a second,” he said, “and do some hypothesizing.”
“This isn’t a game.”
