Page 36 of No Capes
Dark Static keeps his finger in the air. “And there’s the fact that Milliganpartiallytried to kill you. That night we met, and I totally saved you from that guy, Gary.”
Raincoat Guy.A flash of that night prickles my memory.Raincoat Guy’s boots step closer, as his silver pistol hides in the shadows.
“Excuse me?” I ask. “What do you mean ‘partially’? And how do you know that?”
“Milligan recruited Gary, but it wasn’t her idea to send him.”
This is giving me a headache, so I take a sip of water.
“Whose idea was it?Allegedly.”
“That would be our valiant Mayor, Phillip Bridges’ idea.”
I can’t help it, he just looks so serious in his black armor, while giving me these wild conspiracies, that I actually snort, which makes the water I just sipped go down my windpipe, and causes me to double over coughing. The Super that theChroniclehas just calledThe Most Dangerous Villain of Our Timeis in my bedroom, and I’m snorting water.
“Roberts,” he says, amusement in his voice, “We’re trying to solve a murder here.”
“Come on,” I say, “Why would Phil hurt me? Why would he hurt my mom?”
Mom hated Phil,I remember.
“If I had to bet…” Dark Static continues, “I’d say that your mother discovered a secret about Mayor Bridges before his big event that she was about to expose. Maybe the Levines did too. They were friends, right?”
I sigh, exhaustion numbing me. “I’m getting really tired of guessing about what happened.”
“Me too. Good thing I found these.” He pulls two CDs in paper sleeves from one of his boots. He tosses me one.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Something to convince you.”
I must be in the middle of some horribly scripted, stupid spy movie. I turn the CD over in my hand. Phil’s recognizable handwriting marks the day it was recorded in permanent marker:September 1st.Luckily, I have a CD player. It had been my mom’s from before streaming caught on. I’ve never used it, but she had treasured it so much that I couldn’t let my dad throw it away. It collects dust at the back of a high shelf, behind trophies and stuffed animals.
I pull it down, trying to find a way to load the disc.
“I think it’s here.” Without my noticing, Dark Static has moved behind me. He’s tall—my chin reaches his shoulder, and he leans over me to point at a slot along the side of the player.
I tap the disc to the weird slot-thing, but nothing happens.
“Hang on,” says D.S., and he takes the CD player. He turns it over, unhooking a cover, to reveal two batteries. He presses a gloved finger against them, and a white spark shoots off one of the batteries. Then he points the slot back at me.
“Try now,” he says.
The machine whirs as it accepts the CD.
“You’re welcome,” he adds.
Rolling my eyes, I press play.
“Write something about bringing a new era of prosperity,” says a self-assured voice on the recording. I know that voice: it’s the former mayor, Dr. Milligan. “And then tell them that prosperity is nonsense—it’s a word people use when they don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“Is it a good idea to swear in a speech?” asks a low, second voice: Phil Bridges.
“Relatability is key,” says Milligan. “Explain what prosperity means to you, or what it means to, you know, twenty other people that fit our target voter profile.”
“Milligan’s writing the big speech for Bridges,” D.S. speaks slowly. “That’s the first thing I wanted you to hear. Put in the next one.” He offers the other CD.
It’s dated September 2nd. The day in question.
