against the plastileather interior features of the SUV. “No idea on their powers, Jamal?”
“Nah,” he said from the back seat. “No record on these three that would indicate it. Clyde Jr.’s had some arrests, but never resisted, surprisingly.” He paused. “That said, I did find another interesting thing about how the Council Bluffs police station suffered some unexplained damage about a month after he got arrested there one time. Looked like a wrecking ball went through the wall.”
“I’m going to assume he’s like dear old dad, then,” I said, puckering my lips. “Changeable skin. He could be steel one minute, bone the next.”
“Why wouldn’t you be anything but steel all the time?” Augustus asked. “All invulnerable and whatnot.”
“Clyde used to try different states when he was in therapy with me,” Dr. Zollers said, staring out the window at the expansive fields beyond the trees lining the road’s perimeter. “He had a difficult childhood and had exactly that view; I made him shift into velvet in order to show him a softer side of himself.”
“It didn’t take,” I snarked. “Should have made him stay velvet for longer.”
“He was a rough individual,” Zollers said, finally turning his attention away from the window. “A little more rural upbringing, not a lot of tolerance for excess emotion. I got the sense his mother was … manipulative.”
“Any chance he mentioned if she had powers?” Scott asked. There was a split in the road ahead, two mailboxes parked right in the middle of the Y.
“I don’t recall him discussing it, no,” Zollers said. “He did talk about his children from time to time, though.”
“I’m still amazed old Clyde had children,” I said. “One, because—ew, that anyone would lay him, let alone twice, and two, because he was like twelve when he died.” Well, he acted like he was twelve anyway.
“He was forty-six,” Zollers said.
“Really?” I couldn’t keep my mouth from falling open at that one. “God, what a Peter Pan complex on that guy.”
“Looks like we’re coming up on the second star to the right,” Scott said, and I heard the tension in his voice as he angled the car to the right, where the mailbox was … held on by bungee cords and with the name “Clary” written on it in bold white letters like they’d been freehand painted by a moron. Which, given the mental capacity of Clyde, Sr., the odds were good on.
“Do we stop here?” Scott asked, slowing the van to a crawl.
“No,” I said, looking down the driveway. There were more trees lining the dirt path, and a couple ruts showing where everyone who’d come this way had driven, over and over. Beyond the trees were empty fields, flat ground, and at the very end of the road, a half mile or so in the distance, I could see a house. “Just step on it; we’ll roll up and bust down the doors before they have a chance to respond.” I blinked and looked back at Jamal. “You’re sure they don’t know we’re coming?”
“I’ve put every traffic camera that could have revealed us into a loop, so as far as anyone knows, we’re still at your HQ,” Jamal said. “There’s no way they can know we’re coming.”
“Then let’s go kick down the door and end this,” I said, feeling a hard resolve creep over me. These people had made my life hell for the last few months. For you, Reed , I thought. But there was a little nagging voice inside that told me it wasn’t just Reed I was doing this for.
21.
Ma
“Someone’s coming up the driveway,” Junior said as they stood around Simmons, who was practically shaking on the couch. Ma had hit him with what they knew, and he’d reacted like all cheating cowards probably did, begging her not to tell, pleading that it was just that once, twice, three times with each lady. His face was all red and sickly, burning humiliation from forehead to chin. It hadn’t taken long to get him to start confessing stuff she didn’t even
“Nah,” he said from the back seat. “No record on these three that would indicate it. Clyde Jr.’s had some arrests, but never resisted, surprisingly.” He paused. “That said, I did find another interesting thing about how the Council Bluffs police station suffered some unexplained damage about a month after he got arrested there one time. Looked like a wrecking ball went through the wall.”
“I’m going to assume he’s like dear old dad, then,” I said, puckering my lips. “Changeable skin. He could be steel one minute, bone the next.”
“Why wouldn’t you be anything but steel all the time?” Augustus asked. “All invulnerable and whatnot.”
“Clyde used to try different states when he was in therapy with me,” Dr. Zollers said, staring out the window at the expansive fields beyond the trees lining the road’s perimeter. “He had a difficult childhood and had exactly that view; I made him shift into velvet in order to show him a softer side of himself.”
“It didn’t take,” I snarked. “Should have made him stay velvet for longer.”
“He was a rough individual,” Zollers said, finally turning his attention away from the window. “A little more rural upbringing, not a lot of tolerance for excess emotion. I got the sense his mother was … manipulative.”
“Any chance he mentioned if she had powers?” Scott asked. There was a split in the road ahead, two mailboxes parked right in the middle of the Y.
“I don’t recall him discussing it, no,” Zollers said. “He did talk about his children from time to time, though.”
“I’m still amazed old Clyde had children,” I said. “One, because—ew, that anyone would lay him, let alone twice, and two, because he was like twelve when he died.” Well, he acted like he was twelve anyway.
“He was forty-six,” Zollers said.
“Really?” I couldn’t keep my mouth from falling open at that one. “God, what a Peter Pan complex on that guy.”
“Looks like we’re coming up on the second star to the right,” Scott said, and I heard the tension in his voice as he angled the car to the right, where the mailbox was … held on by bungee cords and with the name “Clary” written on it in bold white letters like they’d been freehand painted by a moron. Which, given the mental capacity of Clyde, Sr., the odds were good on.
“Do we stop here?” Scott asked, slowing the van to a crawl.
“No,” I said, looking down the driveway. There were more trees lining the dirt path, and a couple ruts showing where everyone who’d come this way had driven, over and over. Beyond the trees were empty fields, flat ground, and at the very end of the road, a half mile or so in the distance, I could see a house. “Just step on it; we’ll roll up and bust down the doors before they have a chance to respond.” I blinked and looked back at Jamal. “You’re sure they don’t know we’re coming?”
“I’ve put every traffic camera that could have revealed us into a loop, so as far as anyone knows, we’re still at your HQ,” Jamal said. “There’s no way they can know we’re coming.”
“Then let’s go kick down the door and end this,” I said, feeling a hard resolve creep over me. These people had made my life hell for the last few months. For you, Reed , I thought. But there was a little nagging voice inside that told me it wasn’t just Reed I was doing this for.
21.
Ma
“Someone’s coming up the driveway,” Junior said as they stood around Simmons, who was practically shaking on the couch. Ma had hit him with what they knew, and he’d reacted like all cheating cowards probably did, begging her not to tell, pleading that it was just that once, twice, three times with each lady. His face was all red and sickly, burning humiliation from forehead to chin. It hadn’t taken long to get him to start confessing stuff she didn’t even
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