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WE WENT DOWN THE STAIRS to the parking lot, and my mind was numb. It should’ve been racing. I should’ve been searching frantically for some way to explain everything that was going on. I knew that. But my fear was burned out.
Ben gave me space. We turned left along the row of apartments and ambled toward the golf course, like we always did.
This was different, though. I swallowed hard. I could feel Ben waiting.
“I went by my apartment,” I said.
“Uh huh.”
“Yeah. I went because Cass asked me to. Told me to. I had to.”
“Cass? The girl who’s playing your game?”
“Uh... yeah. Yeah. She’s the girl with the gun.”
“From your game. Right.”
“From my apartment. The one who inspired the game.”
“She’s been in touch with you?! Did you call the cops?”
“I went to my apartment.”
“Okay. To meet her?”
“To rescue her sister. My apartment manager kidnapped her.”
He went several steps in silence. I tried to think ahead, but my mind was still numb.
He thought it over. He spoke with careful gentleness. “You know you sound crazy, right?”
I nodded. “Oh, yeah. Big time.”
We went a little further. He asked, “Are you?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not all right.”
He weighed which question was the right one to ask. At last, he said, “Is Cass real, man? Is she even real?”
My phone buzzed with an incoming call. Unknown number. I hit the speaker button. “Cass? That you?”
She answered with such a string of unbridled profanity, raging into the night’s quiet, I felt compelled to switch to the handset. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I called over her. “Slow down, I can’t understand.”
Ben caught my eye, nodded understanding, and withdrew back toward his apartment. I turned all my attention to Cass.
“You killed Trina, Dave, and I’m gonna kill you!”
She sounded serious. Raw and emotional, but every bit serious.
I believed she meant it, but I couldn’t feel afraid. I could tell it was unfair for her to blame me, but I couldn’t feel outraged about it. I still felt numb in my head.
Shock. Was this shock? It felt strangely easy, like talking to Ben had been. I looked through all the implications of what she’d said, and I fixed on the information I wanted.
“They killed her?” I asked. “She was alive last I saw her.”
“For now. But Hauser is going nuts.”
“Then we need to call the cops.”
Her answer was acid. “Do that, and the cops will kill you before I can.”
“This isn’t a movie,” I said. “The police aren’t all on the take. This isn’t that kind of town.”
“It only takes one bad cop to let him know they’re coming. It only takes one bad cop to leak the name of the informant. And I already know at least two who have it out for me.”
“They shot at me, Cass! There was gunfire in the middle of the suburbs. I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”
She was silent a moment. She took a breath. “You keep on acting like you don’t know how bad a guy Hauser is.”
“Is he some kind of kingpin now? Running an international syndicate?”
“I didn’t say he’s important. I only said he’s bad. And you don’t really believe in bad people.”
The memory burned on my mind was of Hauser snarling from the sidewalk while his goons snatched Trina away and shot up my car. It was comic-book bad.
“I believe well enough,” I said.
“If you did, you would have taken that gun and saved Trina, and you would be glad for every rat you killed doing it.”
“That’s not me,” I said.
“That’s what I mean.”
“Cass, I’m in real trouble here. I still want to help your sister, but the only way I can do that—”
“No cops!”
“I have to—”
“No cops. You call the cops, and it’s not just Trina we’re worrying about. It’s your mom and dad in the crosshairs. It’s your friend with the nice apartment.”
Ben? She had to mean Ben. I cast a look around like she might be hanging out under a nearby streetlight. “Ben?”
“Hauser doesn’t know about you yet. You wore the ski mask, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then keep it that way. Keep the cops out of it. I’ll be in touch about Trina.”
“I’m still not convinced there are dirty cops—”
“Dave, hear me. If you do something else to put Trina in danger, I’ll tell Hauser about you myself.”
Maybe the shock was wearing off, but that threat rattled me. My objection came out a whisper. “You wouldn’t.”
“That’s what I mean,” she said. “You don’t believe in bad people, no matter how we prove ourselves to you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, and she didn’t wait for me. “Watch your messages. And answer your calls. I’ll be in touch when I’m ready for a second approach.”
The line went dead. I stood a moment, frustrated, then headed back toward Ben’s place. I found him in the middle of the parking lot, staring in stunned disbelief. When he heard me walking up, he didn’t look my way. He just called out, “Hey, Dave? What the heck happened to your car?”
“Cass happened to it,” I told him. “And yes, she’s very real.”