The Fear Hunter by Elise Sax

Author:Elise Sax [Sax, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781079170719
Publisher: Elise Sax
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Every murderer is probably somebody’s old friend.”

–Agatha Christie

Remington dropped me off in front of the soup shop and left to take the glowing rock to a lab, which could test it for radioactivity or whatever would cause it to glow. We had walked a good portion of the Area 38 fence, but we didn’t learn anything about the mysterious facility except that glowing men liked to come and go from the place, and they were very diligent about keeping the lights off.

Afterward, when Remington dropped me off at the soup shop, it was still dark, and Doris and Irving were already waiting for me at the front door. “No soups today,” I warned them.

“We know,” Doris said. “We’re here to give our support to the knitters.”

“You got any of that horrible coffee you make?” Irving asked me.

“I’ll start the pot.” I took the skeleton key out of my pocket and unlocked the door.

“I’ll turn the lights on,” Irving said. “I know how.”

While he turned on the gas lights, I walked to the kitchen and filled the coffeepot. A large basket of my aunts’ cranberry scones was sitting on the counter.

“I heard that the shop got destroyed yesterday, but it doesn’t look worse for wear,” Doris said and sat at their usual table. She was right. It looked like it did every day since it was opened years ago. The only thing that changed were the books.

The door opened, and two men wearing black suits and dark sunglasses walked in.

Irving grabbed one of the men’s arms and tried to guide him through the shop. “I’ll help you find a table, young man. Straight ahead. Be careful.”

“We’re not blind,” the man growled, pushing Irving’s hand away. “We’re with the government.”

Irving backed away. “I swear to God, I didn’t rip the tags off my pillow. It came that way,” he said.

“Sit down, Irving,” Doris told him. “I don’t think they’re here about your pillow.”

“Why not? I pay my taxes,” Irving said.

“What are you saying? You want them to arrest you about your pillow?” Doris asked, incredulous.

“Why not? I’m not important enough? I’m not a Koch brother, so the government doesn’t care about me?”

“Fine!” Doris said, slapping the table loudly. “Officers, arrest this man for his unlawful pillow!”

“I’d throat punch them, if I wouldn’t lose my pension,” one of the men in black said to the other man in black.

“May I help you?” I asked them, interrupting the confrontation.

“Agatha Bright? We’re with Homeland Security,” one of them said to me. Oh, no. They found me. They knew that I had tried to break into Area 38, and I stole a rock. I stumbled backward, knocking the coffeepot onto the floor.

“What happened? Did he hit her?” Irving asked Doris. “You want me to call Johnnie Cochran for you, Agatha?”

“She doesn’t need a lawyer…yet,” one of the homeland security agents said, adding the last part directed at me for emphasis. “We’ve heard that you’re hosting a group, which is protesting a so-called Area 38.”

“I’m not hosting them.

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