Page 3 of Strange Lights

“Good for you.” I can wait for him to tell me; he’s not going to get me to beg for a scrap of information.

“It involves one of your favorite creatures,” he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

“A Chupacabra?” So I cave a lot faster than I intend to; anything involving a hint of Eldi’s origins catches my interest. Calvin doesn’t know why I get so excited about Chupacabras, but he does know they’re my favorite cryptid.

“Exactly,” he says, smug.

“Where?”

“For free?” Calvin says, a hand over his heart in mock scandal. “No way, not sharing without incentive.”

I stew for a moment, but I have something Calvin will be interested in too. It’s an old habit of mine to keep something up my sleeve for leverage.

“I have my own pit stop I was going to make along the way to Yellowstone. My next case,” I say with an unconcerned shrug as I sip my latte. It’s delicious. Pistachio and oat milk. There’s got to be at least four shots of espresso in here; I can practically feel the caffeine entering my bloodstream.

Calvin narrows his eyes and holds out for a beat. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you.”

He waits for me to make the same promise. When I don’t, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. His stupid silky hair that smells like cherries and whiskey⁠—expensive whiskey, too, the kind found in cocktails with pretentious, ridiculous names like “Pauper’s Chagrin” and sold for the price of an entire bottle of the cheap stuff. His stupid hair that is always cut just right. I want to pull it. Next time he lets me into the Airstream, I’m stealing his shampoo.

“My Chupacabra is in Illinois,” he says. “Now what and where is yours?”

“Mine is in Illinois too. How convenient.”

“Well, what is it?” Calvin prods, impatient.

“A vacuum,” I say, purposely vague.

He lets out an aggrieved sigh. I don’t have to look to know he’s rolling his eyes, and I grin.

“A haunted vacuum,” I clarify.

“Haunted?”

“Or cursed, maybe possessed. Who knows really? That’s what I’m going to find out. It’s one of those robotic ones, programmed to drive itself around all day cleaning without the owners having to think about it.”

“Why’d they contact you? What’s wrong with it?”

“Apparently, it doesn’t clean anything. And it’s cutting strange designs into the carpet, burning weird patterns on the rest of the floor.”

“Bet you a beer it’s programmed wrong. That one will be so easy to debunk.”

“Bet you a beer that it’s more legit than your case. Chupacabra in Illinois, my ass.” I snort in disgust.

Despite my constant search regarding Eldi, I’ve found very little concrete information about her. While I’m going to investigate this supposed Chupacabra Calvin speaks of, I can almost guarantee it will be nothing. Just a coyote with mange or one of those scraggly, hairless dogs whose appeal I’ve never seen.

“You’re on,” Calvin says, reaching out a hand to shake on our bet.

With a resounding crash, the door to the Winnebago slams open, and Eldi stomps out. She’s clad in Spider-Man undies, a pair of unicorn galoshes, and a yellow raincoat with a duckbill on the hood. Frankly, it’s not bad. Eldi fights tooth and nail to avoid wearing clothes, but I insist. Underwear is a bare minimum. I don’t need a naked toddler butt all over my furniture. Plus, I get looks and comments if I can’t force her into enough normal clothing.

Oh, that poor baby’s toes must be so cold.

Did Mommy forget your coat today?

The next person to comment with a thinly veiled insult is going to be handed an irate monster toddler, a pair of pants, and my best wishes for luck.

Eldi glances at Calvin and me. She’s holding a plastic shovel, and I can safely assume she was heading to the forest to bury the goat. Now that Calvin is here, she’ll have to wait. He’s pretty nonjudgmental about my parenting style, but even he would say something if my apparent two-year-old headed off into the woods alone, half-dressed, with a shovel. Eldi obviously deduces this too. She angrily swears something in a language I think may be Russian and throws her shovel to the ground.

Calvin looks at her strangely, eyebrows furrowing. I glance back at Eldi and realize she’s not wearing her watch.