Believe It Or Not (An Eddie Munson Story)

Take Me Home

Eddie's POV:

Ripley is quiet and staring off into space while we wait for Hopper to get to her house. The deputy that originally showed up asked a million and one questions to which I refused to answer, wanting to speak directly to Hopper. When he realized I wasn't going to cave, he finally called the older man and he now wanders around Ripley's room, taking photos of the damage with a Polaroid camera while we wait.

I sit beside Ripley on the couch, stroking her arm absently as I replay the contents of the note over and over again in my head along with my previous conversation with Patrick.

When Hopper finally shows, he marches into Ripley's living room and stares down at us expectantly, his hands on his waist.

"This had better be good," he warns and I note that he isn't in uniform, but rather a blazer and nice jeans. My eyebrows furrow slightly at his clean attire and I stand, gesturing for him to follow me outside. We step out onto the porch and I look up at him, sighing softly. I reach into my pocket and hand him the note that was attached to the rock. He unfolds it and reads it, his expression shocked. When he looks up at me, he looks disappointed and tired.

"It's Jason," I say matter-of-factly, and he nods slowly, folding the note back up and clutching it between his fingers.

"I'd bet money on it," he agrees, his eyes dart over to his car and I see a silhouette in the passenger seat, moving slightly. I try to focus on the matter at hand even though my interest is peaked.

"But why couldn't you tell the deputy in there about this, kid?" Hopper asks, a little of his annoyance leaking into his voice.

"Because I also wanted to let you know that Patrick called here the night of the trial," I sigh and Hopper's eyes nearly pop out of his head. His lips set in a hard line and I can tell his anger is growing.

"You aren't kidding me, right?" He clarifies. "Because if you aren't joking, some of the guys down at the correctional facility are going to get my foot so far up their asses-"

"I'm not joking, Hopper," I say, doing my best to make my tone and expression serious. He straightens as he looks down at me before he shakes his head in annoyance.

"Do you know what McKinney wanted?" He asks and I nod.

"He wanted to apologize to Ripley and also to warn her about Jason. He said he had been talking about some pretty sick and twisted stuff and he wasn't sure what he was planning, but none of it sounded good."

"How'd she take it?"

"She doesn't know," I mumble and Hopper stares at me, his expression unreadable. "I was the one who answered his call. He gave me his warning and I told him to never call again. I didn't want to worry her unnecessarily, but now I'm thinking maybe I should have."

Hopper reaches out to pat me on the shoulder and my eyes meet his, surprised.

"You did the right thing, kid," he tells me with a small smile and I nod in appreciation. "I'll make sure to find out who let him call her and take care of them. I'll also pay a visit to Jason and get an official investigation going. For tonight, though, you two try to get some rest. I'll have Deputy Martin call her mom to let her know about the damage to her window and that we stopped by."

Hopper's eyes dart restlessly back over to his car and I realize that whoever was waiting in the passenger seat has gotten out and is standing by the hood, looking over at us. I squint slightly as I look at them and when realization finally hits me, I glance up at the sheriff with wide eyes.

Joyce Byers walks slowly towards us, her hands in the pockets of her coat and a sheepish expression on her face.

"Sorry," she calls as she approaches. "I just wanted to check and make sure everything is alright. If we don't head out soon, we will miss our reservation."