Think of the Devil

Twenty-Three

It rained off and on the next day. As she tried to work, Jane's thoughts would stray to wondering about Matt and what could've kept him from returning. She kept an eye on the news, checking her phone between clients and scanning the papers downstairs. In the afternoon, a small blurb announced that Melvin Potter had been arrested, but it didn't say anything about the extra Daredevil suit or a second party. Nothing else came in about sightings or mysterious violence, so she was left to wonder as the day rolled into night.

She tried to stay up for him again. She stayed at her desk working on notes until her back ached, going into unnecessary detail just to preoccupy her mind. Around midnight, when she couldn't take the old chair's discomfort anymore, she moved to the couch. For a while, she just sat quietly and tried to observe the thoughts around her, searching for his voice amidst the noise of rainfall. When that gave her a headache, she decided to read. It was the book that betrayed her, tiring her eyes and lulling her to unwanted sleep.

It didn't last, though. Her phone's shrill ringtone pierced through the silence, startling her upright from the couch and sending the book to the floor. Taking a moment to orient herself, Jane haphazardly reached over to the coffee table to grab it. Rubbing her eyes, she answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Jane Cayce?" The voice sounded official, strictly business.

She cleared her throat, trying to hide the sleepiness in her own voice. "Who is this?"

"Ma'am, my name is Officer Gerrick, I'm with the New York City Police Department. I'm calling because I found a... Angélica Ramos out after curfew. She told me that you were a guardian, is this correct?"

Pulling the phone away from her ear, she glanced at the ceiling in exasperation and bit back a groan. Swinging her legs around so she sat forward, she answered, "Yes, that's correct. Where is she now?"

"We're currently at the subway station on 50th and 8th. We have her in the back of our vehicle to avoid the rain. What is your address, so we can return her home?"

Jane gave them her address before she yawned. They exchanged goodbyes before the cop hung up. After seeing that the time was past one in the morning, she turned her head up to the ceiling and groaned again before moving on autopilot.

As she straightened up the space, she wondered why Angélica was out so late. Jane knew the teen had probably snuck off to see that girl Rosalyn again, but she should've been home by now. Alberto had informed her earlier that Angélica had gone to a "friend's" house right after school, which meant she'd probably been in Harlem for most of the evening. From what she could recall of Angélica's memories, the girl hadn't stayed out so late before. Why was she pushing her luck today?

Waiting by the coffee pot, Jane stretched her mind as she listened to the light rain on the windows. She wished she could revel in it the way she usually would, but she couldn't focus on anything but straining to hear Angélica's thoughts. It only took another minute or two before the girl was in range, her juvenile anxiety loud and recognizable. The telepath poured herself a cup of coffee as she listened to them get closer. When they pulled up, she started down the stairs with her cup in hand.

The officers were already knocking on the back door when she got downstairs. She flipped on the light for the back of the shop before opening the door. Angélica stood there, dripping wet and shivering, and Jane immediately ushered her inside. The teenager stared at her shoes as she came in.

"I thought you said you kept her out of the rain," Jane said angrily. Regardless of what Angélica did, she was still just a kid. Jane handed the warm cup to her as the girl moved to stand behind the counter.

"We did, once we caught her. She tried to flee the subway station," one of the officers stated flatly. (Real shithead.) The two cops stood just under the awning to shield themselves from some of the rain, though they at least had windbreakers and plastic covering their caps.