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Worse still, someone shot at us both when we were in the woods last night. I remember falling asleep in his arms.
“She was unconscious when they left,” The campus cop reminds my dad, who’s pacing. Running his hands through what’s left of his hair.
“And anything they did as consenting adults is—”
“I know the fucking law, okay!” My dad yells, not even able to look at me yet. “What I’m trying to get my head around,” he continues, calming himself, doing what he does best, and be a detective. “Is where this, Sexton fellow’s got to.”
There’s a long silence.
“And you’re telling me that no government agency you’ve contacted can explain the seizure of my daughter’s medical files, nor the complete absence of a social security number or driver’s license for this guy, despite him being hired by the college for the past decade?” My dad says.
“Correct.” The older cop concedes, scratching his temple. “He’s a fine fella though, Mike,” he adds. “Did a lot of government stuff years back, ya know. Secret squirrel kinda things,” he offers. But it doesn’t help.
“Shooter’s an ex-employee of the same college. Known stalker, had a thing for the Professor years ago but he wasn’t interested. There was a restraining order,” he muses, flicking through the file, which my dad snatches from him.
“You know her?” Dad asks me, holding up a photo of someone I’ve never seen.
“Nope,” I answer truthfully but hating her already.
How dare anyone even look at Xander, even in the past?
“She’s in custody, Mike. Admits everything. Been following the Professor for weeks.”
“And now he’s gone? Poof! Just flew up into the sky I suppose?” My dad asks nobody in particular, throwing his hands up.
“Alright,” he finally says. “I want a full work-up of his car, cottage, everything. If we dig deep enough the spooks will call us. No point calling them if he doesn’t exist.”
The older cop shrugs. “I’ll start on the paperwork,” he says, trying to sound cheerful.
Turning to me, dad puffs out his cheeks.
“Are you mad?” I ask him, knowing it’s a stupid question.
“Furious,” Dad admits, but he pulls a smile, which surprises me.
“You really love this guy?” he asks. “Off the record,” he jokes, trying to cheer himself up.
I nod, feeling my own emotions taking over.
“More than anything, Dad. I can’t explain it,” I tell him truthfully. “When you meet him you’ll see. He’s the sweetest, kindest—”
“Well, for such a lovebird he’s certainly flown the coop,” my dad says brashly, waving his hand at my comment and picking up the zip lock bag with Xander’s note in it.
“But he does say he’ll be back,” he concedes.
“So what are we gonna do?” I ask, tearfully.
“You are gonna stay with the Patterson’s for now. And I’ll wait for him at his cottage,” he informs me, no argument in his expression.
“And then what?” I ask, worried about what my dad has planned.
“Well? I guess I either wanna punch this guy’s lights out or shake his fucking hand for saving your life, or both. Either way, he’s got a lot of questions to answer. To the law as well as to me.”
He studies me for a moment, eventually shaking his head.
“You really love him? Are you sure?” he asks, a pained expression on his face.
The kind only a dad can have when he realizes his little girl’s all grown up.
“I do, but I still love you too, dad. We’ll always still have that,” I remind him.
“I hope so,” he says softly, busying himself by gathering up papers and evidence to avoid his own emotions.
I know we will, dad. We always will.
Chapter Nineteen
Xander
I only know him as Xander One.
I’m Xander Sixteen, he’s Xander One.
My boss, I guess you could say. More of a thought or a feeling most of the time but if I do see him as a person, he looks a lot like me only taller.
We’re walking along a beach which is familiar to me, although I can’t place exactly when I’ve been here before.
The waves lap gently at a reddish, sandy shore. With three moons rising on the vast. Empty horizon.
We walk in silence, side by side as I struggle to hold the memory of why I’m here. What I’ve come back for.
“You want out,” he tells me, his voice softly spoken in my mind instead of with words out loud.
I nod, remembering everything in an instant.
“Gillian!” I exclaim in my mind, looking over to him, seeing his blank expression staring back. His eyes are darker then the sky, and seemingly more infinite. There’s no color or whites, only darkness where eyes should be.
“We’ve waited. Not long, but for you, it must seem a lifetime,” he says calmly.
“I don’t want riddles anymore,” I hear myself saying out loud. My words sounding heavy in the air, like wood hitting metal.
“There are none,” he laughs softly. “Everything you want to know, you’ve already discovered and you’ve come back here to tell me. For the last time.”
