Frederick Polovatski rushed into Clayton's house without knocking. "Clay!"
Clayton rushed into the foyer from the kitchen, a sandwich in hand. "The Loose Cannon. I hope you have a warrant."
"Shuttup, Clay, and listen! I found Jonathan... or whatever is left of him..."
Clayton dropped his sandwich on the foyer floor. "He's - he's..?"
"Dead? You should only be so lucky. No... yes. Not exactly. Clay, I need you to sit down."
"Let's go to the den."
Polovatski followed Clayton to the den. A smoldering fire burned in the fireplace, popping and crackling in small flames. Clayton sat in his armchair, and Polovatski took a seat in the chair across from him. "Where's Emily?"
"I sent her away, with David."
"Good, Clayton listen carefully to what I'm about to tell you."
Clayton nodded. "Go ahead, L.C..."
"L.C.?"
"Loose cannon. C'mon, L.C... say what you've come to say, or go and leave me in peace."
"Jonathan is gone. The thing roaming Driftwood is not your son. I put twelve bullets in that thing today, and every single time, he got back up. Two times he came at me."
"So he's got body armor."
"No, goddamnit! He's not human, Clay. He's something else entirely. Something other."
"You mean to tell me my son is possessed."
"No. I mean to say your son is gone, and the thing inside that shell, it's not Jonathan."
"...but you know who it is."
"I know what it is. Or... I know someone who does. This thing that wears your boy's face will come for you. It is evil. It is a monster."
"Local Coven have been up in arms about a monster in Driftwood. Terrified. If it is true, what you're saying, that this thing out there isn't Jonathan, why is it carrying on his work?"
"Go out to the furthest part of Driftwood, to the Crossroads. Talk to Cassus Finley. He'll know you're coming if, and when you resolve to do so... but he's not going to want to talk to you."
"What can he tell me that you can't?"
"Everything, Clayton. Everything."