Swamp Monster Love

Chapter 10: Suspect

The walk home from Hansen's Pond took most of the night. A few times I turned around to go back, thinking of some new way I might find Todd or Christine, some strategy that ignored the presence of glowing phantom hair and a bottomless pond. It was during one of these false-courage episodes that the police car pulled up beside me.

"Awful late for a walk, son. Everything all right?"

It's a small town, so I'd seen the officer before, but didn't know his name.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks."

"Where you headed?" He idled alongside me. He didn't ask me to stop walking and I didn't ask him to stop idling, so I guess we had a truce of sorts, a tentative peace treaty. But my response wasn't anything quite so nuanced.

"Huh?"

"Where are you going, son? There's nothing out here for miles. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Actually... my friend... Todd Williams..."

"What about him?"

"Well, he was supposed to give me a ride tonight, um, out to Hansen's Pond."

"What in the world would you want to go out there for?"

"Nothing. Just a dare I guess. Anyway, I got out to check the tires and he took off without me."

"Really."

"Yeah. Anyway, I was just hoofing it back to town. Hoof, hoof, you know? I mean I was hoping he'd pick me up on his way back, but at this point I'm not exactly holding out hope. What with him ditching me in the first place. So... yeah. I'm actually kind of worried that he may have been on his way to do something dangerous there at Hansen's Pond. Possibly something illegal. Just a sense I got."

"You seen anyone else out tonight?"

"What? No. Like who?"

"Why are you all muddy?"

Ah. I had forgotten about that. "I fell down."

"Fell where?"

"Just by the road back there. I didn't see the puddle until it was too late, you know? What with the darkness and all."

The police car stopped. I stopped.

"Why don't you get in, son? I'll give you a ride home."

"But what about – "

"I'll check on your friend later if you want. Get in."

It was less of an invitation, and more of an order. I got in, but not until after he put some sort of emergency foil blanket on the seat so I wouldn't get it dirty. He let me sit up front with him, within arm's length of the police computer and radio's volume knob, and so I felt satisfied that he didn't suspect me of anything terrible even though I suspected myself.

"Brian, do you know a girl by the name of Christine Felcht?"

I had introduced myself by now, and we were driving back to town, and with his eyes on the road he completely missed my alarm at his question.

Deep breath.

"Huh?"

"Christine Felcht. A girl from your school. You know her?"

"Oh. Yeah. I think I know her. She's a year older than me in school. I think." I decided not to tell him we were in Drama together, or that she signed my yearbook twice.

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"I dunno. Today at school maybe." This was mostly true, other than the fact that I had seen her hair filling an unearthly pond and trying to kill me. "Is she okay?"

He checked his mirrors and turned a corner. "Probably just an overanxious mother. Christine didn't make it home on time. Wasn't where she was supposed to be."

"Oh. Should you be telling me that?"

"Probably not. Unless you maybe actually have seen her tonight, or some of her friends, and want to tell me something about it. Have you?"

"No. Not since school. I don't know her that well."

He chuckled. "It's not like I thought you were dating her." He seemed to think this was a particularly funny idea.

"We were in Drama together last year."

"Is that so?"

"She signed my yearbook twice."

Back at my house, the officer made me repeat my lame excuses to my mother until he was satisfied that she was sufficiently angry at me. I should have kept my mouth shut when he turned to go, but I couldn't.

"You're going to check on Todd, right? Out at Hansen's Pond? Jerk though he is, I hope he's okay and not committing crimes."

He gave me a long look. "Okay. I'll drive by."

By morning, Todd and Christine were both listed as missing persons. Amber alerts. FBI. Reporters. Psychics. Bloodhounds.

And no sign of them whatsoever.