He’s a bit startled when I wake him, but gamely toddles out for a walk. We make it a quick one. I have a guest and a load of confidential files and boards at home.
Elliot is still sound asleep when I return. I make sure to close the doors softly behind me. It was a struggle to keep Mickey out of the bedroom, but ifIhave to be here, he does too.
I start the coffee machine after bribing Mickey with food.
I downloadedWhack-A-Wolfon my phone yesterday. Hated every second of it. Things you do to solve murder cases of degenerates.
I take my cup of coffee and phone to the couch. It’s wise to keep my office locked right now.
I open the stupid app. The amazing thing is that the chat history is available to everyone, no matter when they join the game. So I won’t have to sneak one of the victim’s phones out or get someone from the Bureau to hack the app.
I was right that they didn’t ask a lot of information for registration. Just a full name and location. I bet most people fudge the response. Like I did. But Tyler and Nathaniel didn’t. And now they’re dead.
The answer to why might lie here. So, I lean back and start reading through the deplorable texts.
Despite the coffee, I have a headache by hour two. I don’t know how kids these days spend hours with their heads buried in their phones. But they’re probably not readingstraight-up hate being spouted by stupid, bigoted people. Oh wait…
Still, it’s definitely not for me. Time for a break. I saunter to the kitchen. Would Elliot like waffles? Or is he more of a pancake person?
Pancakes. Definitely pancakes. I nod and get to work.
Half an hour later, a bleary and confused-looking Elliot walks out of the bedroom. He’s wearing last night’s rumpled clothes, and his eyes are narrowed in a slit. He looks like he’ll bite my head off if I say anything. And from his many, many conversations I’ve overheard with drive-thru attendants, I know for a fact he will.
So I pour coffee in a cup, a lot of it, and slide it onto the counter where Elliot is still standing, scowling at the wall. Even Mickey is wary of him, staying tucked in his spot under a stool. I’ve trained him well.
Elliot snatches the cup before I take my hand back. I smile and flip the pancake. I add extra butter. Elliot can use it.
After a few sips, he nods appreciatively.
“Breakfast?” I test.
He looks up at me and blinks. “You made pancakes?” he asks delightedly.
I nod at him. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, and I’ll make you a plate. Spare is in the cabinet.”
He puts the cup down and drags himself back to the bedroom. I glance at the cup. Empty. That wasquick.
I stack some pancakes for him and make twice as many for myself. I carry the plates and maple syrup to the coffee table. I refill Elliot’s cup, too.
When he sits down, he’s still quiet and slow. He picks up his plate and drizzles a little bit of syrup on it.
I should strike when the iron is hot. “I got up way too early. So, I wasted time playing this new game I downloaded.Whack-A-Wolf. Have you heard of it?”
He swallows his bite. “I grew out of playing mobile games when I turned ten,” he says dryly
Good to know a little bit of normal Elliot is seeping backon the surface already. Maybe it was the one and a half cups of coffee. Anyway, he clearly didn’t react to the “wolf” in that stupid name at all.
Why are you lying, Elliot? And why are you so good at it?
Chapter Seventeen
Strategy Sessions and Surprising Discoveries
Nick
This is the third time I’ve turned our semi-weekly brunch into a work session at my place, but no one seems to be too put out seeing how loud they are right now. One reason can be all the free food I promised as a bribe. Werewolves are always hungry and readily lured with good food and a place to blabber.
I drag my two murder boards out of the office with no help from anyone, I should add.
