Page 47 of Code Violation

SEVENTEEN

Forrest – Saturday, late afternoon

“Do you mind if we stop by the library again?” Nero asked. The truck’s passenger door was still ajar, and he was only half perched on the bench seat. “I’d like to find out why Fernsby emailed me.”

“Sure, but I’m not going in this time. I’m gonna sit out here and obsess about Rufus.”

“Chicken,” Nero said with a snort. “I don’t think it will take long. I can’t imagine what he has to tell me—if he’s even bothered to show up.”

“Seriously, I feel like I’ve faced down my enemy once already today. Twice is asking too much.”

Nero chuckled.

“Will you still be here when I get back?”

Forrest rolled his eyes. “Yes, I promise I will be here.” He tapped his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel. He wanted to take action, do something, figure out where the hell Rufus had gotten to. But there was nothing for him to do; the best course of action was not to run into the forest and see if they could find him. What if that wasn’t where he’d gone?

Nero hopped back out of the truck. Forrest watched him jog down the block and disappear around the corner. What could he say? He was a gay man and Nero had an awesome ass. Not many minutes later, Nero was back and making himself comfortable in the passenger seat again.

“Fernsby never did show up, and Mr. Peacock wouldn’t give me a phone number. ‘For the personal safety of our staff.’ I get it, but seriously, when the guy had said he wanted to meet with me?” Nero complained.

“Mr. Peacock.” Forrest snorted at the made-up name. “He wouldn’t give you the time of day if it wasn’t already public information.”

“Do you happen to know where Fernsby may live?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed yet, Nero, I make it my business not to know much of anything about what happens in town. With the exception of gossip at the Donkey, and that is generally not random people’s home addresses.”

“So that’s a no? I suppose I could ask around.”

“Yep.” Forrest paused for a moment, then asked, “But how about we head back to my place? I can make us something to eat.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Vaguely anxious about Rufus but with no idea what to do about it since they didn’t have a real idea as to where he was, Forrest pulled out into the street again. He swung a quick left so they were headed back to the main drag.

“You know,” he said. “I don’t know that I ever did have a library card.”

His comment was first met by silence.

Finally, Nero spoke. “You’ve never had a library card? That’s, that’s an abomination.”

“As you know, I found plenty of things to do besides read, and Grandpa had all those books anyway. I do remember Grandpa taking me there at least once. I had a big stack of books to take home, and the librarian asked him if I would be able to read them all before they were due. Grandpa’s response was to laugh and say he hoped they would keep me busy for the whole weekend, but that he doubted it.”

He quickly glanced over at Nero. His passenger was staring out the window and watching the world of Cooper Springs pass by, tapping on his thigh while he did so, listening to a tune Forrest couldn’t hear. Maybe worrying about Rufus—he seemed to like him.

“What else do you think was stored there?” Nero asked.

“Huh?” Forrest was confused before realizing they’d passed by the charred remains of the mansion. “Oh, I have no idea. Could’ve been anything, I guess. The last time anyone lived there was in the 1950s. The city was supposed to use it as a museum or other public building, but as far I’m aware, it’s just sat empty. Well, obviously not entirely empty.”

Forrest slowed again before turning onto the highway. They passed by Murry Evison’s empty property and Forrest wondered if the crotchety old man was still in Arizona. He liked Murry; Forrest hoped to be as cantankerous as he was someday.

“Did you learn anything today?” he asked Nero. “Other than that milk cost $1.57 a gallon, the coin-op laundry had just opened, and the newly refurbished Cooper Springs Resort was reportedly expecting a banner summer of car-touring guests in 1978?”

“Ah, you were reading over my shoulder after all. I think I did. Or at least, now I have a more complete picture of what Cooper Springs was like back then. Not much about the missing girls.”

“It was depressing.”

If Kurt Cobain thought Aberdeen was bad, he should’ve come for a visit.

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