All the Inside Howling (Hollow Folk #2)(65)

“Mr. Big Empty.”

“You said Mr. Big Empty is trying to kill you, so why did he leave you alive in the alley and kill Salerno instead? And where does DeHaven Knight fit into this? Why would he kill this guy Frankie?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know why he left me alive. I think—this is just a guess—but I think he’s not ready to kill me yet. He said he wanted to make me suffer. He said he was going to kill everyone I cared about first. You know, standard villain stuff.”

“Great. Standard villain stuff, that’s just perfect.”

“But that would explain why he stopped Salerno. He didn’t want Salerno to kill me. He wants me alive, for a while longer at least, and so he had to stop Salerno.”

“Ok. And the rest of it?”

“Well, I’m starting to think that Mr. Big Empty has limits, especially now that he’s a ghost. Even when he was alive he had to work through other people. That guy Tony, for example, was basically his puppet. Now that Tony’s dead, Mr. Big Empty needs someone else. He needs a new puppet.”

“DeHaven Knight.”

“It makes sense. DeHaven Knight is batshit crazy, like, full-on, certifiably nuts. And he’s dangerous. He’s killed before, at least once and probably plenty of other times. If he is being controlled, then he’s our link back to Mr. Big Empty.”

“Why just him?”

“What?”

Becca gestured at the sheriff and deputies. “Why not take control of the sheriff? It’d be a lot easier to move around, cover up crimes, etc. Or, even better, why not take control of a new person each time? He possesses Salerno to kill Lawayne. He possesses the bus driver to crash the Greyhound. He possesses me to kill Kimmy. On and on. He gets double damage, that way: not only is someone dead, but someone else’s life is ruined.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I’d never thought about it before. That’s actually a really good point. And, frankly, it’s kind of scary that you thought of it.”

“You’re only scared because I’m a girl and I’m much smarter than you.”

“And so modest.”

“Of course.” Becca frowned, chewing on the fuzzy sleeve of her sweatshirt. “The obvious answer would be that he can’t.”

“But he can. I know he was controlling Tony.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean he can’t control everyone. Or he can’t switch people that easily. Maybe it’s only certain people. Or maybe it takes a lot of time. Who knows what the rules are? The important part seems to be that, as far as we know, he seems to operate with one vessel at a time.”

“Vessel?”

“It’s as good a term as any other. What would you call it?”

“Body? Skin-suit? Flesh-bag?”

“Flesh-bag?”

I nodded.

“Were you dropped on your head as a child?” she asked.

“Probably.” When she flinched, I smiled. “It’s a joke, Becca. We can still make jokes.”

“Not about—”

“We can still make jokes.”

The wind had picked up again, stirring eddies of dust and gravel that stung my exposed skin. The day was still chilly, but with the sun high overhead and with Becca next to me, it didn’t seem unpleasant. Even the worst of the morning’s terror about DFS and foster families and all the rest of it had withdrawn to the back of my mind. A small, wondering part of me kept thinking back to that conversation with Austin. He knew, that part of me kept saying. He knew what was happening to you, he knew all about it, and . . . and he still wanted me to come over for dinner. He wanted me to come back. I didn’t know how that was possible, but it felt like a key had turned somewhere inside me.

“That still doesn’t answer the last couple questions. Why would Mr. Big Empty kill Salerno, but then send DeHaven Knight to kill Frankie?”

“Another question I can’t answer. Maybe Mr. Big Empty needs to be close. We’re pretty far out of town, so maybe Frankie was too far away. Although I can’t understand why he wouldn’t have killed Frankie earlier, before he got on the bus. Or maybe he’s just insane.”

“Insane doesn’t mean stupid. It doesn’t necessarily even mean illogical. There’s a reason, even if we don’t know it. Do you know why he wanted to kill Frankie?”

Tearing free a stalk of tough, yellow grass, I chewed the end for a moment, thinking. “Maybe.”

“What?”

“Frankie never said anything to me about Mr. Big Empty or DeHaven Knight. I don’t even know if Frankie knew who they were. But Frankie did tell me about River. Nothing really important, but I saw a memory, one of Frankie’s memories, of River. He was standing outside Union Station, trying to pick up a local girl on his way through town. I guess that was kind of his thing.”

Becca blushed a little, and it looked pretty on her.

“Anyway,” I continued, “I don’t think Frankie even knew it was important, but in the memory, I saw DeHaven Knight. He was there, standing in the shadows, watching River. Obsessing over him, if I had to guess. Based on the things DeHaven said to me in the jail, I think he’s got this crazy hatred of vagabonds, drifters, you know. And there was something about River, something that was working on DeHaven like gravity.”