Seventeenth Dawn

11) Pills and Chills

Casey

Uncle Vic waits with me for thirty minutes until he grows too impatient.

"If I get back and you aren't here, Casey, I am not giving you another do-over. You can live with your Great-Aunt Sue down in Charleston. I have something I need to take care of. Sit tight. And take these." He drops two pills into my hand. "Vicodin. I want you to get some sleep."

I almost passed out during the drive home from pain alone. I take the pills obligingly, and even stick out my tongue immaturely like mental patients do in movies to show they've taken their medicine. He carries me up to my bed, cellphone next to me.

"Call me if you need anything. I'll be back in a couple hours."

I feel myself slip away before he has a chance to ask if I want my overhead light left on or not.

***

My eyes open when the medicine begins to fade and a particularly sharp pain stabs through my leg. My wrist pulses in its makeshift brace of an old wrist guard for rollerblading.

I cough, trying to clear my throat. "Uncle Vic?" I call. "Officer Benson?" No answer. He must still be out. But Benson should be here by now... I pick up the phone and go to my recent section, tapping on Baxter's number. He picks up on the fifth ring.

"This is Baxter."

"Agent Baxter," I say hoarsely, "I'm worried about Officer Benson. He went to check out some intern's house--a guy named Jake. He works for the local police force. But he never came back. He was supposed to be here several hours ago, but he's still a no-show."

"What did you say the name was?"

"Jake. Jake..." I try to imagine the name slate on the front desk I front of him. "Jake Saltzberg?" My nose crinkles at the surname. "Jake Schaeler? His last name starts with an S."

"Doesn't sound familiar."

"Well, it wouldn't, would it? Because Jake has missed the last two days of work. He didn't show up either day you've been in town."

"Okay. I'll do some research. See if I can find the house tonight."

I nod for my own benefit. "Something just isn't settling right about that. And my uncle went out to run some errands, or something."

"You're home alone?"

"Yeah. It's okay, though. Just check on that name for me, please."

The pills seem to kick in again and pull me under once more.

I have one last unmistakable, coherent thought before I drift off, one that sends chills down my spine: It's him. I just know it.