Page 8 of Investigation of a Quest

“You should’ve seen your face!” Bel laughed as she stepped out to hug her old boss, the fun of the evening making her forget they weren’t speaking. “Oh my god, I think I peed my pants a little. That was so funny.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Griffin tried to shove her away, but she held on tight. “You know?” he said over her head to Eamon. “I should shoot you anyway.”

“Oh, come on.” Eamon thudded his back. “It was funny.”

“Funny?” Griffin said. “I’m with Emerson here. I think I peed my pants, but for a different reason. Holy hell, Mr. Stone.”

“You’ll laugh about this tomorrow,” Bel said, finally releasing him.

“Was this your idea?”

“Nope,” she lied.

“It’s a good thing you don’t work for me because you would be so fired for putting him up to this.” Griffin collapsed forward, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Were you even trying to scare me, or was that you being funny?” He aimed his question at Eamon.

“Funny,” Eamon said. “If I were trying to scare you, you’d no longer have a heartbeat.”

“I believe it.” Griffin rubbed his chest. “Tell me, why don’t you work for me? We’d have no crime in Bajka.”

“Me working for you?” Eamon raised his eyebrows, and Griffin burst into a deep belly laugh.

“That sounds like hell. Forget I even brought it up.”

“Plus, I would never listen to you.”

The sheriff turned his laughter on Bel. “How do you put up with this guy?”

“Eh…” She shrugged noncommittally. “He buys me things and tells me I’m pretty. He also has nice abs.” She grabbed his shirt and flashed her boyfriend’s muscles with a smirk. Griffin rolled his eyes, but then he cupped her face in the dark house.

“It’s good to see this smile,” he said.

“I agree,” Eamon seconded.

“All right, you two.” Bel pushed her old boss away, but not before kissing his cheek. She missed him. She missed her job. She missed who she’d been and her relationship. But all this laughter made her miss herself a little less, and she wanted to stay inside this night, haunted zombies and all. “Let’s go get another round of hard cider,” she said. “After that scare, the zombies aren’t cutting it.”

“I’ll say,” Griffin laughed. “I’m still in uniform, so I can’t drink, but you enjoy. It’s good to see you two happy, but no more scaring people.” He aimed the order at Eamon before turning to leave, but then paused and retreated to Eamon’s side. “Actually, scare whoever you want, just tell me first so I can watch.”

“Text me a victim, and I’ll be there.” Eamon clapped the man on the back, and the trio vacated the house of horrors in favor of cider and snacks. Griffin hung out with them until his wife showed up and asked to tour the haunted alien home, so Bel and Eamon said their goodbyes and located a food truck with dishes more substantial than candy.

“I’m glad we did this,” Eamon said, interrupting their people-watching. They’d found a place to sit while they ate, but they’d gotten lost in the vibrant spectacle, losing track of how long they sat shoulder to shoulder.

“See, my job isn’t so terrible,” Bel said, and he raised his eyebrows at her. “What was that look?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t want to upset you.”

“So tell me in a way that won’t make me upset.”

“Fine.” Eamon placed his drink down and grabbed her hand. “I love you more than life itself, and I admit, this haunted house party is awesome, but it isn’t you. You aren’t the town committee girl. I want you to be happy, but you’re lying to yourself. This job is very Bel Emerson, but the woman I love is Isobel Emerson. The full and powerful name and the magnitude that accompanies it.”

“You saved yourself with that last compliment.”

“It’s true, though. You’re a force to be reckoned with, and my problem isn’t this job. It seems fun, and you’re clearly good at it. If this were your life goal, I’d be happy to support you. It’s just that you chose this job to hide from yourself, and that’s why it feels empty. You didn’t take it for the right reasons. You took it to escape. Tonight’s been great, and we needed to let loose, so I’m not bringing this up to make it a thing. I just want you to know that my Isobel Emerson was pretty perfect, and she didn’t need to change.”

“You should get your eyes checked. If you think I’m perfect, you must be blind as a bat.”