“You. Talk. Now.” It was a snow day. I glanced at Kanesha.
“Make that both of you.”
I nodded, stood up, and headed inside. Morrow followed. “There’s beer in the fridge.”
“Anything stronger?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Just beer.” I snagged him a can. “Are you alright?”
“No.” He dropped into a seat. “No, I’m not alright. And neither are you. But…”
“But you think I might know something about something.”
His eyes drifted to me, absolutely terrified. Any more thoughts of Tomorrow jokes departed my mind when I saw the look in his face.
“Talk to me.”
Why had he come here? Because it was something to do with me. But how did he know?
“Somebody wants you dead,” he told me, finally. “And they tried to recruit me to help make this happen.”
A sigh came out of me. “And…”
“Why would somebody want you dead?”
I decided on the blunt, flat truth, “You wouldn’t believe me. But I can try.”
He didn’t respond. “It’s probably the people who think I’m the anti-Christ.”
He laughed. “You. The anti-Christ.”
I nodded. “I thought I’d convinced them I wasn’t.”
“Men in suits. British,” he added, thoughtfully. “And they….what they told me was that your family was going to cause some real trouble. It didn’t make any sense, but when I told them no, the guns came out. I had to shoot one of them before I got away.”
“And you don’t like doing that.” That explained the mix of anger and fear.
“No. I don’t. So. They think you’re the anti-Christ. Delusional makes more sense than what they tried to tell me.”
What had happened to the truce? And I felt something fall into my stomach like rocks. “I have it on good authority not to trust you.”
“We’re even, then. I don’t trust you, Jane Rudi. I don’t believe you’re the anti-Christ, but I don’t trust you. On the other hand…”
“Maybe you can get all their visas canceled,” I suggested.
“I want them locked up. They shot at me.” His tone was cold. “Not just deported. Locked up. For a very long time.”
I had to agree with him, but I still didn’t trust him.
How did I know this wasn’t all an act?