Summoning the Night (Arcadia Bell #2)(48)

“Okay,” Lon said, giving up on the mystery language, “what happened after he bit you and spoke strangely?”

“He still had one hand over my mouth, so I couldn’t scream, but I saw my cigarette on the ground where I’d dropped it when he first grabbed me. While he was talking in that other language, I picked up the cigarette and shoved it into his face.”

“Aww, shit,” Jupe murmured.

She shrugged. “I only got his cheek. But it was enough to surprise him. He rolled off me, acting insane. Kicking and yelling. I didn’t stick around to see what was going on, just jumped up and ran to my front door. He came after me, but I pounded on the door, and my parents woke up and let me in. He took off. I never saw him again.”

“Your parents didn’t go to the police?” Lon asked.

“My dad reported it anonymously from a phone booth at the emergency room. I remember my parents arguing about it in the car on the way to the hospital. This Snatcher had already managed to take six kids, and the police didn’t have any leads. People were pissed off at them. Picketing outside the sheriff’s department. And my mom didn’t want to draw attention. All the other families were on the news, reporters camping outside their homes. Mom was too afraid that the guy would come back for me. Or my little sister. She was fourteen at the time, only a year younger, and she has a disability. She couldn’t walk so good. Still can’t. Mom said she was easy prey. My uncle came over and helped my dad search the neighborhood when we got back home. Mom was hysterical. Later that night, she had a nervous breakdown.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She sniffled, then wiped her nose. “It wasn’t her first one. When I was younger, she stayed in a hospital for a couple of months after losing a baby. Anyway, if the police did catch him, I would’ve had to testify in court—and if he ever got out on parole, or if they screwed up the case, he might come after me in the future. That’s what my dad said. A couple of weeks after my mom’s breakdown, we packed up and moved to my uncle’s house in Morella. My dad was just doing what he felt was best for us, you know?”

“That’s all anybody can do,” said Lon sympathetically.

“I know this might be an odd question,” I said, “but at the time, were you experimenting with anything occult-related? Learning about magick, that kind of thing?”

“Huh? Like witchcraft? No. Why?”

“Just wondering,” I said. Seeing Lon give me a strange look out of the corner of my eye, I changed the subject. “Can you tell us what he looked like?”

She licked her lips and stubbed out her cigarette. “Human. White. Dark hair. Really short. I was so mad at myself later that I let a puny little guy like that get the best of me, but I guess in the end I got away.”

Dark hair and short. Definitely not Bishop, based on the photos I’d seen. But we already knew that. And there had to be hundreds of men with that description in La Sirena.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” she added. “His eyes. I’ll never forget them. They were two different colors.”

Mismatched eyes. One blue, one brown. Very unusual, indeed.

I was fired up when we left Starry Market. Lon was, too. His energy level zoomed from slow and steady to bright and bushy-tailed. But when Jupe wanted to play detective along with us, Lon flashed me one of his famous “not in front of the kid” looks. So I steered the conversation in a different direction and proposed a pit stop in Morella before we drove back to the coast—something to distract Jupe and give me time to speak privately with Lon.

The Black Cherry is an all-night diner that sits on a busy corner down the block from Starry Market. With its neon sign of blinking fruit outside and Miami art deco interior, the diner drew an eclectic crowd of hipsters, freaks, and geeks of all ages. But the real reason I suggested we stop there was because of their retro arcade room.

Our late-night dinner was mostly spent ensuring that Jupe wasn’t too freaked out about what we’d all just heard. I was kinda proud of him, to be honest. Lon too. Cindy seemed to be okay when we left her, but I was concerned that Jupe’s persuasion could wear off eventually, and she might regret everything that she told us. I left her my cell number, just in case she wanted to talk later.

After several minutes of chatting, Lon told him he’d done a good job and Jupe bounced away to the adjoining room, drawn to the bleeps and bloops of classic video games. The second his low-top sneakers squeaked around the corner of our booth, I turned to Lon to discuss Cindy Brolin’s memories and found him grinning a smug, cat-ate-the-canary grin. His arm flew out and hooked me around the waist. With one quick tug, he slid me across the seat and planted a firm kiss on my lips. I nearly gasped for breath when he released me.

“What was that for?” I asked with a laugh.

“Because my son got us some damn good information.”

“Oh, now you’re loving his knack, huh?” I teased.

He snorted. “Still hating it. Still a little worried that it might not have been the best decision to bring him into this. But if what he did tonight helps to save some kids, then maybe I’m not the worst father in the world.”

“You’re far from that.”

He smiled at me. I smiled back.

“So, the Snatcher was a biter,” I said, clicking my teeth together.