Page 19

Detective Ransom's recent town hall meeting had made one thing clear: we had a target date for the next strike. I'd gathered that anyone with enough money to leave was already heading out of town. But most of the residents were trapped here by empty pockets, left behind to wait for the monster to choose.

I shook my head. “I think this town would have found who it was if they were from here. Whoever is doing this picked this town on purpose. Small enough, rural enough that it wouldn’t raise an alarm. They could get away with their crimes without raising the attention of larger police departments that the cities have.”

Lexington glanced at me skeptically. “Wouldn’t it be easier to stay under the radar in a city?”

I nodded. “Technically, yes. If he were taking people multiple times a year, a city would make more sense. But towns like this… no one cares about them. Most people don’t even know they exist.” I glanced around the crowd of tourists. “I bet half of these people don’t even know the name of this town. They probably Googled ‘fun fall activities’, found the festival, and put it in their GPS. Once they leave today, they’ll remember the corn maze, the bobbing for apples, and the cider. But the town? The people? They’ll be forgotten.”

Lexington eyed me curiously, his impossibly green eyes trained on me. I hadn’t noticed before, but his eyes matched the trees towering around us—flecks of light interrupting the sea of green. “Why do you know so much about small towns?”

I turned away and continued walking. “I spent the first few years of my life in a small town like this,” I mumbled.

He chuckled. “You couldn’t remember much. Weren’t you around seven when you moved in with your uncle?”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve heard the stories of what it was like and how hard it was to leave.”

“From who?”

“My brother.”

Lexington didn’t say anything for a moment. I stopped and turned to see him in the middle of the walkway, between a face-painting booth and a popcorn vendor. He was staring at me with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape.

I rolled my eyes, walked back to where he had stopped, and looked up at him. He wasn’t as tall as his brother, but his presence always felt larger to me. “What?”

“You have a brother?” he asked in surprise.

“Yeah.” I didn’t elaborate.

“Why didn’t I know this?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

I tucked my hair behind my ears and crossed my arms in front of me. “You never asked, so I never said anything.”

“Does anyone know about this brother? Oliver, Jackie… Fai?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. I don’t think so.” I did know. No one knew about him. I didn’t keep him a secret; he just didn’t come up in conversation. He and I had… an interesting relationship. He was twelve years older than me, thirty-nine to my twenty-seven. We hadn’t ever spent much time together, and after he gave me up… well, I didn’t want to facilitate any relationship with him. Based on the years of silence, I had a feeling he felt the same.

Lexington stared at me, completely flabbergasted. “I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“Is that my fault for some reason?” I challenged, my tone snippy.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “No. I… I guess I’m just surprised. We’ve known each other for almost five years, Goldie. I don’t even know your last name.”

I laughed lightly. “Is that what you’re so worried about? My last name?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m just…” He trailed off.

I sighed and reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with me. “Enough about me; we’re here for a reason, Lexington. We need to talk to these people, figure out what they know about the Watcher.”

Lexington sighed, but acquiesced. I was grateful. I had never enjoyed talking about myself. I wasn’t meant to be in the forefront. I wasn’t like Lexington; I didn’t want my name in papers. I didn’t want to be the center of attention, instead I found safety and solace in the shadows.

We split off into the festival to cover more ground, searching for town members to interview. The majority were behind the booths, games, and food for the festival. It was obvious the event brought in much of the money for the town. I had wondered why they hadn’t canceled it in the wake of what always happened around it, but they couldn’t. They needed the money. I couldn’t fault them for being put in an impossible situation.

It didn’t take long to realize I was hitting a wall of absolute resistance. I moved from booth to booth, trying to strike up casual conversation, but the townspeople closed ranks with terrifying efficiency the moment I opened my mouth. They knew exactly who I was, or at least why I was there, and their suspicion was a living, breathing thing in the space between us.

Nobody wanted my assistance. Their eyes remained cold, their answers clipped and defensive, as if merely speaking to me was a betrayal of the community. They had lived with a monster for two decades, and they had apparently decided that the devil they knew was safer than the outsiders trying to drag him into the light.

“Any luck?” an exhausted Lexington asked, dropping down on a park bench next to me after nearly an hour of our separate searching. I turned to him, and a surprised laugh spilled from my lips.

His face was painted with what I thought was supposed to be tiger print, and he held a bag of pink, fluffy cotton candy in his hand.