Our conversation with the homeless guy was weird, but he was more than happy to give us Lila's jacket. We left the arcade at around eleven and then rode to the police station, where Ollie and I handed the varsity jacket to the officer in charge. Although she promised to give us each a check for five hundred dollars, she didn't seem too convinced about our cannibal story.
"What do you mean it's unbelievable?" I snort. "There's a cannibal on the loose, and no one is interested in stopping him."
The cop looks at me, then at Ollie, who stands anxiously on the white tile floor. Phone calls and conversations disperse in the background.
Cigarette smoke wafts in the air. Anxious papers shuffle across the desk. Walking past the busy cops, Ollie and I wait for the Polish detective to type something on her IBM computer until she looks at us some more.
I wait with anticipation until I see a stern expression emerging on the policewoman's wrinkled face.
"You're kidding me, right?" she snickers in disbelief. "You think a cannibal had something to do with those ten victims?"
Has this woman seen The Silence of the Lambs?
"Considering the other nine victims who died of the injuries Lila had," Ollie begins. "Don't you think that would be an interesting theory?"
The cop lays her hands on her cluttered desk.
"We have seen the bodies," she answers slowly. "And yes, most of the tips we have gathered are about a wild animal attacking the victims, so unless you have something to convince me otherwise, I am sticking to that theory."
As much as I hate this cop, she has a point. All we did was give her the dead girl's jacket and a flimsy story from a homeless man. I'd rather find something concrete about the killer than argue with her.
"Okay, fine." I huff. "I guess you have a point. If we know anything about the monster, we will call you right away."
The policewoman smiles. She hands me her card and sends us out of the station.
Picking up my bike from the bottom of the stairs, I pedal my bike along the sidewalk while Ollie cruises his skateboard on the concrete floor. His pink hair tousles in the breeze like wildfire. His brownish-green eyes glow in the autumn sun.
"Jesus Christ," Ollie mutters as he leaves the police station. "I wish we had brought the homeless dude with us."
"I am not so sure about that," I say quietly. "If we give him to the cops, they'd probably think he's on drugs or something."
I pause to put my hair up in a ponytail and fasten it with Andie's blue scrunchie.
Ollie slows down on his skateboard. "So, she went missing for ten years, and the cops did nothing about it?"
"I know." I agree. "Fucking crazy, right?"
"More like fucking insane. Maybe tomorrow we can head over to the library and research the articles."
"Sure."
I sweep my hair behind my left ear and decide to ask Ollie about how his mom is doing.
Ollie lifts his shoulders and lets them slouch.
"Shouldn't you page her or something?" I asked him, feeling a little impatient.
"I don't want to call her right now," he grumbles. "All I care about is helping your family."
"And get the cash for the New York trip." I remind him.
"Yeah!" Ollie chuckles. "The Big Fucking Apple. I wonder if it is as magical as the one my dad talks about."
"Your dad and little brother live in New York."
"Yeah, he's stationed there for the time being until his boss gives him the word."
I climb onto my bike seat and place my feet on the pedals.
"Jesus fucking Christ," I murmur. "I don't think I can imagine myself being in the Big Apple."
"Me neither."
"Do you think people drink fancy champagne and eat clams?"
Ollie makes a face. "I think they eat oysters."
"Clams are the same thing as oysters, dumbass," I retort. "They just have those fancy pearls in them."
Ollie hums something under his breath until he asks me if he will spend the night at my house again.
"Really?" I ask. "Aren't you going to talk to your mom or give her a call?"
"Nope."
"I think you should."
"I'd rather drink a can of expired condensed milk than speak to her."
"Oh, my God. Just talk to your mom, Ollie. I'm sure she loves you-"
HONK!
A loud car horn interrupts me as Ollie and I spot a police car slowly approaching us. My jaw hardens. I stop riding my bike and then leap off of my seat. Ollie, on the other hand, moves to the sidewalk, steps off of his skateboard, and stands in front of me. He glares at the vehicle until the tinted windows slowly descend.
A dark-haired man with a thick beard pops his head out of the cracked glass and stares at us intently. I have no idea what his problem is, but I do not feel comfortable talking to him.
"Oliver, get inside the car," he tells me. "Your stepdad and mother are worried about you."
"Sure he is," Ollie chortles, picking up his skateboard. "Look, tell my mom that I am going to be at the library late."
"Don't be a smartass, kid, and get in the car."
"Come on-"
"Now!"
Ollie clenches his skateboard until I give him a calm smile.
"Go on," I encourage him. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
Ollie gives me a disbelieving look until I push him to the cop car and wave him goodbye. Much to his reluctance, Ollie waves back. He crawls into the back of the vehicle and then straps on his seatbelt.
In the meantime, the bearded police officer stares at me. I try to smile at him, but the emptiness in his eyes makes me feel queasy inside.
"Say," he murmurs, smirking. "Aren't you Ollie's girlfriend?"
"No, sir. Are you Ollie's uncle?"
"Nope," the cop answers casually. "I'm just a friend of the family. Don't forget the curfew hours, okay?"
"Yes, sir," I say quietly.
As soon as the police officer starts the car, I climb onto my bike and pedal away until a brown 1970s Plymouth rolls beside me. I pretend to stare at the sidewalk. My hands are getting bloody from gripping the handlebars too hard. Biting my bottom lip, I continue moving forward until the car drives past me. I freeze and turn my head to see an elderly black man steering the vehicle.
Behind him is Nick, lying in the backseat. It's like he doesn't want the sun to touch him. He covers his eyes with his pale brown hand, then turns his back to the driver.
I wonder if he is having some kind of hangover. Placing my feet on the pedals once more, I trail behind the Plymouth. I make sure I back up three inches so I won't get run over.
Nick's a nice guy and all, but other than the fact that he is a nurse, I don't know a whole lot about him. Especially why he's interested in me. Does Nick want to be my friend, or does he want to abduct me from my apartment and sell me to horny forty-year-olds?
I know this shit is dark, but you can never be too comfortable about entering a weirdo's car. And if a weirdo is heading to your apartment building, you can come up with two questions: How does Nick know this old guy, and why is he stopping at my apartment?
The old man gets out of the car, opens the door, and slaps Nick on the leg.
"Get the hell up." I hear him grunt. "I am not carrying you out of this seat."
Nick waves his middle finger at the old man before stepping out of the shade. He plucks the lint out of his black, curly hair and gets out of the car. He trains his lazy brown eyes at the glass door, then trots behind the old man.
Curious, I ride my bike towards the Plymouth, slide my butt off the seat, and park my bike between the metal bars of the bike rack. After I fasten it with a lock, I follow Nick and the old man into the main lobby until someone bumps into me.
"Katherine!" a stunned voice exclaims. "I thought you were at the library."
I gaze up to see my dad in a crisp, black suit. His ecstatic smile spreads across his warm brown face. A wonderful aroma of citrus and lilac wafts from the expensive fabric. Even his leather shoes are polished.
Taking a step back, I slip my hands inside my pockets and ask, "What's with the new threads? Did you get a promotion or something?"
"Nope," said Dad.
"So why are you-"
"Because I quit my job," he tells me. "Turns out I don't need to work in a bank. I already applied for a job as a data scientist."
My eyes broaden.
"What the hell do you mean you quit?" I screech. "You can't just quit your job! We have bills to pay!"
"Not anymore." Dad chuckles. "I'll tell you all about it at dinner."
"But Dad-"
Dad nudges me to the sliding elevator doors, where Stanley walks out the shaft with some redhead hottie draped around his arm. Dad moves around our landlord, while I watch Stanley whisper something to that redhead. Her blue eyes gleam with excitement. Her glittery dark red dress squeezes her curves and massive breasts.
"Christ!" I snickered, joining Dad in the elevator. "How much did he pay her to be his girlfriend?"
"Katherine!" Dad whispers angrily. "That's not nice!"
"What?" I croak. "I'm just saying!"
Dad rolls his eyes, then watches the doors close in front of us.
***********
After I finish my homework, I take a shower, get dressed, and give the page of my typewriter a good stare until Andie calls me downstairs for dinner. She and Mom cook chicken parmesan, a bread roll, and a shitload of spaghetti. By the time Matt comes home, it is around 7:30.
He greets Mom and Dad with a hug and kiss, then squeezes the tip of Andie's nose.
"What's up, everybody?" Matt greets us, sitting on the empty chair right next to me. "What's with the awesome spread?"
Matt reaches his hand for the blue bowl of pasta when Andie pulls it away from Matt's reach.
"What the hell is up with you?" he snaps. "I'm starving as hell!"
Andie shoots Matt a menacing glare. She sports a brown cashmere sweater and a black pencil skirt. Her white socks are smeared with dirt. Priceless bracelets jingle around her wrists as Andie scoops up a ball of spaghetti and dumps it on my plate.
"Here's some more, Kathy," Andie murmurs. "Now, eat up. Okay? Get some meat on your bones."
"Wow," Matt replies. "Since when did Little Miss Perfect turn into a drill sergeant?"
"Fuck you, Matt."
"Hey!" Dad snaps. "No arguing, you two!"
Mom, who is chewing on her chicken parm, waves her fork at Andie and Matt.
"Your father is right," she agrees. "And besides, your father has something he wants to share."
I stop eating my spaghetti and wipe the tomato sauce with the back of my hand. Matt stops cutting his chicken parm while Andie places her fork and knife on the unwrinkled napkin.
"Well, what is it?" I asked impatiently. "Did something bad happen?"
"No, not at all!" Dad laughs. "I was heading home because I forgot to check our mailbox, but when I opened it, there was an envelope full of cash."
"Are you serious?" I scoff in disbelief.
Even Matt, Mom, and Andie look at him funny.
"Why would anyone give us money?" Mom asks him. "It's not like we're the most popular family in the building."
"I don't know," Dad laughs. "But it's more than enough to pay all of our bills!"
Lowering my fork and knife, I can feel the chicken parm stab my stomach. At first, I didn't believe my dad's rumors until he reached into his back pocket and tossed the brown envelope in the center of the table.
"There were at least two thousand dollars in this envelope!" he beams. "But I used half of the money to pay off the rent, student loans, and other bills."
"Stewart, I don't think it's a good idea," Mom says carefully.
Matt's eager smile falters, while Andie bobs her head triumphantly. In the meantime, I look at the amount of spaghetti in the bowl and wonder if I can take some leftovers to Ollie.
"Come on, Lila-" Dad begins.
"Paying our bills with the money some random stranger gave us? Smells pretty sketchy to me."
"Yeah, Dad." Andie agrees, lowering her cup of fruit punch. "What if someone left it by mistake? And besides, did the envelope even have a return address on it?"
"Does it fucking matter?" Matt groans. "Look, we have enough dough to keep Stanley off of our asses! Right, Kat?"
I stop drinking my fruit punch and place my cup near my plate. As much as I hate getting dragged into this conversation, I can't help but agree with Matt. It does seem pretty sketchy that some anonymous donor drops a wad of money, but it was better than relying on shitty paychecks and coupons.
"Sure," I shrug; my mouth is full of spaghetti. "Whatever Matt says is true."
"So, if someone dropped a wallet full of seventy-thousand dollars on the sidewalk," Andie growls. "You're just going to take the cash without questioning it?"
"Well, duh." I snorted, swallowing my food. "Why would you leave a wallet on the sidewalk?"
"Seriously, Kathy?" Andie cries. "Sometimes, I don't understand your dumb logic."
"It's not dumb, Andie," I tell her. "It's real life. I'm sorry no one taught you that shit in Berkeley."
"Katherine!" Mom scolds. "Stop arguing with your sister and eat your dinner."
I cut up my chicken and eat slowly, whereas Matt picks up the envelope, opens it, and peers inside to see a huge wad of bills winking at him.
"Whoa," he breathes. "It's like two million dollars in this envelope!"
Mom snatches the envelope. She tucks it in her bathrobe before shaking her head at us.
"I don't think we should be using this money," Mom says carefully. "I think we should put it back inside and forget about the envelope."
She turns to Matt and Dad, who both eye her with reluctance.
Andie clears her plate. She selects her cup and utensils to wash in the sink. Mom, Matt, and Dad collect the filthy dishes, while I take a plastic bowl from the cupboard, fill it with leftovers, and then tiptoe upstairs.