unmistakable.
“Just out for a jog.”
“Oh,” that would explain the dog shit and cigarettes. I know whenever I jog outside I always step in something foul and I always manage to run through a cloud of smoke.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but listen, I just thought of something.”
“What?” he asked.
“Clyde was found strewn, right, just like we get when we shed our human bodies, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was thinking, what if the killer took the wolf and skinned him, like a poacher.”
“I think I know what you’re getting at, but, Sophie, it’s not…”
“It’s possible,” I said interrupting him, “and I think very likely.”
“Sophie, I’ve already thought of this angle and both myself and Mr. Black have dismissed it.”
Fraternizing with the enemy, was he? Well, that’s just great. Of course the Hunter would say that it was a ridiculous theory because he’s behind it all. Why would he admit to it?
“Sophie, there aren’t any poachers around here.”
“Yeah, but there’s a Hunter.”
His deep, heavy sigh exploded through the receiver sending chills down my spine. It was the sound of disappointment, like a parent giving their child a sigh because the child was found in the cookie jar. But my hands weren’t covered in chocolate chip cookies so he had no right to be disappointed. I was merely stating fact.
“How many times do I have to tell you this, Sophie, he’s here to help us.”
“Matt, he’s a Hunter. There’s no denying it. He is what he is.”
“He is a detective. He only has the safety of the public on his mind. Therefore, he’s here to help.”
“But he…”
“Sophie, I’m saying this one more time,” he said, his power now drilling through the receiver in an attempt at pacifying me, “He…” Matt began, slowly enunciating every single word, “is…not…here…to…hurt…us. Are we clear?”
“Well, maybe he’s not, but what if someone else is?”
“I can see why you would think it’s a poacher, but it’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it doesn’t add up. That’s how I know.”
“Can you tell me why it doesn’t add up?” I asked now wanting to shake him so hard that my logic wouldn’t be looked upon like a kindergartener’s play-doh model compared to Rodin’s The Thinker.
“Look, Sophie, it’s late. We’ve had a long, hard day and I think we both just need some rest. After seeing Clyde, losing Billy, and having to deal with a Hunter, we both need some sleep. I’m going to hang up now and work on that, I suggest you do the same.”
“But…”
“No buts, Sophie, just get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning after our brains have rested up some. Okay?”
I took in a deep inhale and nodded. He was probably right, but my theory just made sense. I really wanted to know why he could dismiss it out of hand so easily. Couldn’t he just tell me why he didn’t believe my theory?
“Can’t you just tell me why you don’t believe my theory?”
“I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Goodnight, Sophie.”
“Wait,” I said into the phone hearing the dulcet tones tell me he had already hung up.
I snapped the phone back into place feeling more and more useless. Matt was most likely right and I had no clue as to what had hurt Clyde. I guess I was grasping for straws because I wanted answers. I wanted to avenge Clyde, avenge Billy and I couldn’t.
The investigations were for the big dogs, so to speak, and I just wasn’t one of them. I was a puppy compared to their experience and know how. I was especially a puppy compared to the Hunter. He had been dealing with these sorts of affairs for several years, probably, and if he didn’t think it was poachers, then I should agree.
But I didn’t trust him. Even though I wanted to. Hell, I wanted to do more than just trust the Hunter. I wanted to finally see him naked instead of just wonder, I wanted to touch that smooth skin,
“Just out for a jog.”
“Oh,” that would explain the dog shit and cigarettes. I know whenever I jog outside I always step in something foul and I always manage to run through a cloud of smoke.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but listen, I just thought of something.”
“What?” he asked.
“Clyde was found strewn, right, just like we get when we shed our human bodies, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was thinking, what if the killer took the wolf and skinned him, like a poacher.”
“I think I know what you’re getting at, but, Sophie, it’s not…”
“It’s possible,” I said interrupting him, “and I think very likely.”
“Sophie, I’ve already thought of this angle and both myself and Mr. Black have dismissed it.”
Fraternizing with the enemy, was he? Well, that’s just great. Of course the Hunter would say that it was a ridiculous theory because he’s behind it all. Why would he admit to it?
“Sophie, there aren’t any poachers around here.”
“Yeah, but there’s a Hunter.”
His deep, heavy sigh exploded through the receiver sending chills down my spine. It was the sound of disappointment, like a parent giving their child a sigh because the child was found in the cookie jar. But my hands weren’t covered in chocolate chip cookies so he had no right to be disappointed. I was merely stating fact.
“How many times do I have to tell you this, Sophie, he’s here to help us.”
“Matt, he’s a Hunter. There’s no denying it. He is what he is.”
“He is a detective. He only has the safety of the public on his mind. Therefore, he’s here to help.”
“But he…”
“Sophie, I’m saying this one more time,” he said, his power now drilling through the receiver in an attempt at pacifying me, “He…” Matt began, slowly enunciating every single word, “is…not…here…to…hurt…us. Are we clear?”
“Well, maybe he’s not, but what if someone else is?”
“I can see why you would think it’s a poacher, but it’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it doesn’t add up. That’s how I know.”
“Can you tell me why it doesn’t add up?” I asked now wanting to shake him so hard that my logic wouldn’t be looked upon like a kindergartener’s play-doh model compared to Rodin’s The Thinker.
“Look, Sophie, it’s late. We’ve had a long, hard day and I think we both just need some rest. After seeing Clyde, losing Billy, and having to deal with a Hunter, we both need some sleep. I’m going to hang up now and work on that, I suggest you do the same.”
“But…”
“No buts, Sophie, just get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning after our brains have rested up some. Okay?”
I took in a deep inhale and nodded. He was probably right, but my theory just made sense. I really wanted to know why he could dismiss it out of hand so easily. Couldn’t he just tell me why he didn’t believe my theory?
“Can’t you just tell me why you don’t believe my theory?”
“I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Goodnight, Sophie.”
“Wait,” I said into the phone hearing the dulcet tones tell me he had already hung up.
I snapped the phone back into place feeling more and more useless. Matt was most likely right and I had no clue as to what had hurt Clyde. I guess I was grasping for straws because I wanted answers. I wanted to avenge Clyde, avenge Billy and I couldn’t.
The investigations were for the big dogs, so to speak, and I just wasn’t one of them. I was a puppy compared to their experience and know how. I was especially a puppy compared to the Hunter. He had been dealing with these sorts of affairs for several years, probably, and if he didn’t think it was poachers, then I should agree.
But I didn’t trust him. Even though I wanted to. Hell, I wanted to do more than just trust the Hunter. I wanted to finally see him naked instead of just wonder, I wanted to touch that smooth skin,
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