I knew it was, he thought, and maybe now you’ll see the potential in this.
“You can get me there, then?”
“Absolutely.”
“We’ll go tomorrow,” Eric said. “First thing.”
“All right,” Kellen said. “But before you hang up, there’s something I wanted to tell you. I talked to Danielle, and she said the bottle’s getting warmer.”
“Warmer?”
“Yeah. The Bradford bottle, the original. I thought it had warmed up a little during the drive, but she said it’s almost normal now.”
“Weird,” Eric said. He didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah. I was just thinking that suggests whatever’s happening has a lot to do with its proximity to this place.”
“Maybe,” Eric said, thinking that it had been cold back in Chicago, though, and that was miles farther away. “I’ll call you in the morning, all right?”
He hung up and went out onto the balcony, stood and looked down over the hotel. The bottle could be affected by its proximity to this valley. Eric had consumed its contents, and the effects had changed dramatically once he left Chicago and came here. Perhaps if he left, they would lessen. Stop altogether, even.
But then I wouldn’t be able to see it, he thought. I want to keep on seeing it.
He’d stay, then. There was no other choice. He couldn’t leave now.
I’m getting stronger, Campbell had said.
Never mind that. He was a figment, nothing more. He had no real power in this world.
None.
Josiah waited until midnight to call. Originally, he’d planned to do it later but he was impatient and there was something about the hour of midnight that attracted him.
Both phones had full charges by then, and he used the second one and didn’t worry about trying to block the number. It was an anonymous phone, paid for in cash, and even if they could trace it to the gas station where Danny had bought it, Josiah didn’t much care. Anything coming from that sort of detective work took time, and he wasn’t too worried about long-term plans. More concerned with getting what was owed to him. He didn’t know what that was yet, but his gut said that Lucas G. Bradford did.
He called the number that was listed as residence on the paperwork he’d taken from the detective, listened to it ring. After five rings it kicked over to a message. He disconnected, waited a few minutes, and tried again. This time, it was answered. A male with a husky voice, speaking low, as if he didn’t want to be overheard.
“Lucas, my boy,” Josiah said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard the unfortunate news of your friend in French Lick.”
The silence that followed brought a smile to Josiah’s lips.
“Who is this?” Lucas Bradford said.
“Campbell Bradford,” Josiah said. Hadn’t even planned on that; it just left his lips, natural as a breath. Once it was said, he liked it, too. Campbell. That felt right. Hell, felt almost like the truth. He wasn’t Campbell, of course, but he was a representative. Yes, these days, he was the next best thing.
“You think that’s funny?”
“I think it’s true.”
“Is this Eric Shaw? You better believe I’m calling the police to report this.”
Eric Shaw? Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? Shaw was working for the guy… unless the story he’d told Edgar about working for a woman in Chicago had been true. But then who was the woman?
“The police will be called—”
“Really?” Josiah said. “That’s what you’d like? Because I have some interesting documents in my possession, Lucas. And your detective, he had some interesting things to say before he died.”
That last bit was improvisation, but it silenced the prick’s tirade, seemed to take a little of his heat away.
“I’m not worried about that,” he said, but there was no strength in his voice.
“Here’s what I understand,” Josiah said. “Some funds have been authorized to resolve what you perceive as a crisis. One hundred thousand dollars, I believe.”
“If you think you’re getting that now, you are out of your mind.”
“I’ll get what’s owed to me.”
“There’s nothing owed to you.”
“I disagree, Lucas. I firmly and vehemently disagree.”
As he heard the words leaving his mouth, Josiah frowned. Danny was right—he was starting to talk funny. Not like himself, at all. That probably wasn’t a bad thing on a call like this, though. A disguise of sorts, albeit unintentional.
“I’m not interested in the hundred grand,” he said. “I don’t find that sum to be satisfactory. In fact, I haven’t determined what will be satisfactory. I’m still considering.”