Part 3

Tobias Masters was deeply, deeply unhappy. His unhappiness radiated like nuclear fallout, incinerating every other emotion. Tomes could be written about his unhappiness that would drive men to madness. He was the common cold of misery, infecting anyone unlucky enough to happen by. He was aggressively miserable. His depression was motivated.

The other officers avoided him whenever possible. The Chief was curt with him, and never acknowledged when he did something right. Sergeant Turner had loudly suggested that Tobias was mentally deficient, albeit in a far less politically correct way. Sergeant Bounds didn’t seem certain who he was or why he was hanging around the station. Officer Morgan smiled a lot when they spoke, but it was the discomfited smile one uses around a snarling dog. Those forced to interact with Tobias kept it to a minimum, lest they too fall prey to his black mood. He’d been on the force for two months, and didn’t have a single friend. Hell, he didn’t have an acquaintance.

Tobias didn’t care. He wore his pain defiantly, thrusting it into the face of anyone who dared to cross his path. It only seemed fair. If he was miserable, everyone else should be. Everyone. Ever.

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. Someone down the line had made a grievous error in the life plan of Tobias Joshua Masters. If he could just find out who had screwed up, he’d be sure to have them fired, or brutally murdered.

It had to be a mistake. He wasn’t supposed to be in New Jersey, land of a thousand bad jokes and worse hairstyles. He certainly wasn’t supposed to be in Piper Ridge, a town so small that lifelong Jerseyians couldn’t locate it on a map. Piper Ridge: population zilch, promotion prospects zilch squared.

He was supposed to be in New York City, working with the greatest police force in the world. He should be kicking ass, taking names, and receiving commendations. That was the Plan, and had been for as long as he could remember. He was supposed to be happy.

Only he wasn’t. He was stuck in a town that was really just a glorified street, giving speeding tickets to spoiled rich kids and living in his mother’s childhood home. Top of the class his whole life, always followed the rules, never stepped out of line, and Chief Foster hadn’t even allowed him into the bar to see the crime scene. Probably thought his stomach was as weak as the rest of those chumps. He would never have gotten sick in public like that loser Bounds.

Tobias missed New York like an amputated limb. He missed the life he was meant to be leading, even though he’d never gotten to experience it. He wondered if someone else was living his intended life, and whether they were enjoying it. He hoped so. Someone should be.

Being a rookie in Piper Ridge was something like a bad joke. The police force, as it was, could fit comfortably into one room. They were made up of two officers, two sergeants, and a chief of police who was way past his expiration date. When Tobias had applied for the job, they’d thought he was joking. He didn’t find it very funny.

And now it was after three in the morning, and he was simultaneously jittery from half a dozen cups of Mrs. Trotts’ coffee and still not quite awake. He and Sergeant Bounds had been sent on some insane errand clear across town, and nobody seemed to notice or care that he had no idea what was going on.

At least Bounds had let him drive. It was the most responsibility anyone had given him since he’d shown up in this half a horse town. Although he knew Bounds had only given him the keys to the cruiser because Bounds was still fighting off nausea.

“We should’ve just called,” he muttered loudly enough for Bounds to hear. “Nobody likes having their door knocked on at this hour, especially by the police.” Plus, Tobias hated driving at night. He’d only had his license for a year, and Piper Ridge was too dark a town for him to feel comfortable. In New York, there was never real darkness. And if you needed to get somewhere, you took the subway, or walked like a civilized person. Driving was for savages.

“We can’t call. Charlie doesn’t have a phone.” Bounds had his head out the car window like an oversized dog, greedily sucking in the cool night air. His eyes were streaming in the wind, and his mouth was dry and tasted like old sick.

The radio in the car crackled and worried to itself, disjointed voices calling out across the night. The dispatcher, dumpy Jenny Cross, was no doubt near hysterics from all the activity. She considered it a busy night if she had to put her romance novel down more than twice. The frantic calls of townspeople demanding to know what the ruckus was, mixed with officials yelling for the ear of the Chief, was outside her limited experience.

“No phone? How can someone in this day and age not own a phone? That’s bizarre. Net even a cell? How old is this guy?” Tobias doubted any of this was regulation. A normal person had a land-line, a cell phone, and an internet connection. Anyone with less was unusual, and should be treated with extreme caution.

Bounds pulled his head back into the car, wiping the moisture from his eyes. The topic of Charlie Black might eventually make him ill, but he finally felt like himself. Tobias was waiting for details on Charlie Black, probably wanted a whole dossier complete with references. Only a guy as self-involved as Tobias Masters could live in Piper Ridge for two whole months and not know anything about Charlie Black. Under different circumstances, Bounds might have been impressed.

“Charlie’s a character,” he said, falling back on one of Chief Foster’s favorite sayings - one that was usually followed by a near-fatal dose of antacids. Charlie Black tended to wreak havoc on the internal mechanics of anyone nearby.

Bounds risked a glance at Masters, who was concentrating hard on driving. There was a rumor going around the station that the rookie was physically incapable of smiling. He certainly wasn’t a ray of sunshine on this dark and deranged night. Bounds didn’t think he’d ever spoken to Masters before this. All he knew about him was that he’d come from New York with his teenage brother, was the oldest son of Lisa Baer, and seemed hell-bent on destroying the morale of Piper Ridge’s finest.

Bounds hated being sent to get Charlie Black. It was grunt work forced on lowly rookies and whoever had most recently pissed off the Chief. Masters was a given for this sort of job, but Bounds felt that he was a little beyond such chores. Plus, he hadn’t seen Charlie for most of the summer. It had been a restful period in his life, and for the town as a whole. He was sad to see it end.

Bounds covertly sniffed himself. Vomit. Perfect. Charlie Black, multiple murders, a driver determinedly going five miles below the speed limit, and the charming odor of puke. Daniel Bounds definitely had all the luck, he thought to himself glumly. Unfortunately, it was always the bad kind.