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Part 3-10: Jimena
My first stupid thought was that they’d caught me impersonating an officer. As soon as basic reasoning dismissed that, it spawned a further thought that they’d somehow caught us listening in on them. Then I remembered that Deluxe said there was nothing technically illegal about that, so I finally arrived at the simple conclusion that we’d finally been busted for breaking and entering.
My horror redoubled when I remembered Dack was on probation.
All this mental processing took what felt like ten whole seconds, during which I opened and closed my mouth many times at the tall policewoman. She appeared unimpressed, watching me through huge aviators, leaning against the front wheel well of her cruiser. She’d nosed the vehicle into the thin alley, cutting off any notion of an easy exit.
I failed to warn Dack in the slightest, who clambered out after me, asking after the book and what I’d seen.
“Oh,” he said.
“Mr. Vines,” she said. It came out all española, like: mee-stair.
“Jimena, you sure got here fast,” he said.
“Constable Barranco to you, tipo.” Her r’s rolled like velvet and her smile belonged in a toothpaste commercial.
“Yeah yeah,” he chuckled.
“Y—, w—,” I added, looking from one to the other.
“You have an explanation for me, hm?” she said, grin disappearing as fast as it surfaced.
He shut the door while rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yes. Totally. One hundred percent. Perhaps—”
“Bueno. Because as far as I know, you are still on probation, no?”
“Yes, a—”
“Who is this, then?”
“Uh, this,” Dack stuck a finger on my shoulder, “this is Alena, Alena Bisk. Alena, meet Jimena, er: Constable Jimena Barranco, County Sheriff’s Department.”
“At your service, Miss Bisk,” said Constable Barranco, touching the brim of her pert officer’s cap. “I am told your story is worth a listen, though forgive me if I am wary of my source. You both are all finished with your trespassing on private property?”
“Um,” I said.
“Well, it’s—” said Dack.
“Follow me and stay behind,” she said, and glided into her car. It backed out onto the street and pulled up ahead of Dack’s vehicle.
He let out a lungful of breath as we hustled to get into our seats.
I waited until we were moving before deciding which of the nine million things I wanted to say/ask should come first. The winner was, “So, you know each other, huh?”
“Uh huh,” said Dack. He kept his eyes forward.
“Uh huh?” I echoed, waiting.
“Yeah, so—what’s all this about the Walkerbys? What did you see in there?”
“Nuh uh, hold up, first we get clear on Officer Sofia Vergara over there, then we talk beasties. Most immediate problem first.”
“Look, okay,” said Dack, “you remember when we first met, well the day after. After we found Persi, we had breakfast at yours—”
“You mean the day I discovered an alternative reality and fought a demonic blue cloud shaped like a man? Yeah, I think it rings a bell, sure.”
He gave me a look. “That day I said I had a friend on the force who might hear us out without laughing us out of town… well, I never really had the chance to make that call before Willy—or Eden I guess—showed up and sent everything sideways. Now… now we’re about to get tangled up in more of this shit and we’re using a police lead to do it, so I figured…”
“Yeah, fine, that makes sense I guess. I’ll take what help we can get, but can we trust her? How much did you tell her?” I asked.
“Not much. Just that I needed to confide more about why I got myself on probation, that some really strange things may be happening, that the more closed-minded folks on the force mightn’t take us seriously.”
“And you mentioned me.”
“All of us, really. Well, ‘cept Persi. I just… for context and I didn’t want Jimena to think it was… me trying to, I dunno…” He shook his head. “Anyway, I’d arranged for us to meet right after you and I finished with the book, but then those thugs showed up, so I uh, moved the meeting up by a few minutes. And yes, she should be cool. To trust.”
I pinched my tongue between my teeth, trying to weigh how this might affect tonight, indistinctly glad Persi’s name had been kept out of it, replaying the weird encounter with The Minder…
“Crap! Right, the book,” I said.
“Yes! What the hell happened back there?”
I relayed the brief exchange. Dack wondered if I should’ve not snapped at it, but I explained that the monster’s notion of bargaining wasn’t bargaining at all and was probably a ploy anyway.
“I figure the bit about getting to town’s a bluff,” I said, “and the real target is the Walkerby household. Eden’s strong, but nothing we’ve seen suggests that it can do something as powerful as getting a whole forest of vines deep into town. It struggled with wifi shutdown, and it’ll have to struggle again if it wants to do anything near people.”
“I hope you’re right. I mean, about it being too weak to get to town.”
“Me too. Either way, standing down’s not an option, agreed?”
“Completely.”
I updated Deluxe and Fergus via text as the cop car led us down a residential street. It pulled into the driveway of a quaint little bungalow. Dack parked along the curb.
“This her place?” I asked.
“Her grandmother’s,” said Dack, and killed the engine.
The police lady exited her vehicle and strode towards the house without looking at us. We got out too and followed. She went down the side, unlatching a little wooden gate. We ended up in an overgrown backyard, so full of plants, flowers and crawling greenery that I stopped on the threshold, paralyzed with fresh memories of the clock assault.
Jimena led Dack to a pergola with white, peeling paint. It took them a moment to notice me hovering at the edge.
“Miss, hey,” she said. “Come and sit, the garden will not bite.”
“Haaa, yeah, well…” said Dack, casting me a knowing look. Jimena frowned and crinkled her brow.
The absurdity of the statement broke my spell, and I joined them at a small picnic table. Dack and I sat together, facing the beautiful cop—fully uniformed against a backdrop of crawling ivy and blooming flowers. She removed her sunglasses and tilted her cap back, letting rich brown locks frame even richer, browner eyes.
“This should be your profile picture,” I said before I could stop myself. I flushed as she merely arched an eyebrow at me.
“So then,” said Dack.
“You have twenty minutes,” she said.
“Well, it starts with a strange wireless signal, I suppose,” he said.
I nodded. “And the bus. The one that blew up.”
At this, Jimena set her glasses on the table with a clack and leaned forward. “You two know something about that bus?” she said.
“More than I wish,” I said, and explained to her that this whole thing started like most of my problems did: with a terrible wifi connection.
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