The Mystery of Nevermore

by C. S. Poe

  His whole walk into the room and immediately be given respect thing made sense. Twelve years of military service. Twelve. And most of it not pretty. Active and dangerous combat, and a lot of it.

  What I found interesting was that his authority didn’t go to his head, at least not around me. He was in command, for sure, and even when he had been with his partner, he had been shown respect, but he never seemed to power trip. He was unreasonably quiet, actually. But maybe people knew. Maybe he didn’t have to bark orders or throw around his rank because he had already earned everyone’s respect.

  I wondered why he had decided to leave the military, but I couldn’t find anything about it. There weren’t any interviews with him regarding his various awards, just a few photos of when he was given the Medal of Honor by the President of the United States.

  Despite being loaded up with information on Calvin’s last decade, he was more of a mystery to me than before, and as proven so far, I had a thing for mysteries.

  As I sat in the quiet, reflecting on the retired major—now detective—the alarm system went off.

  Chapter Seven

  IT WASN’T my alarm.

  I jerked my head up and ran out of the office, looking around.

  Next door, Good Books’ security alarm was blaring. Our shops were connected around the back side. It looked like two separate buildings because of the small alleyway between us, but it was actually one large structure, and so if something was happening in Beth’s store, chances were someone could run through the back door and into my shop.

  It was too early for Beth to be at work, and the gate had been shut on the front of the store when I walked by. I ran through the Emporium and out the back. The alleyway was freezing, my breath visible in the chilled air. Wrapping my arms around myself, I walked down to the back entrance of Good Books.

  I reached for the doorknob, ready to find it locked, but instead the door swung open.

  I froze for a moment.

  What was I doing? Someone broke in. They might still be in there, stealing what besides gay paperbacks, I had no idea, but I should get the hell out of Dodge.

  I never listen to myself.

  Instead, I got angry. I got really angry, because deep down, I just knew the same sick fuck who had killed that poor woman had killed Mike. That the same person broke into my shop, and now they were breaking into Beth’s. Feeling invincible and ready for a battle of my own, I stormed inside.

  The alarm was wailing and the shop phone was ringing—most likely the security company trying to get a hold of Beth. I put my hands to my ears, trying to gather my wits as the siren drilled into my brain.

  Then the lights turned on and everything went white.

  The sudden brightness, compared to the comfortable dim lighting of my shop and the darkness of the covered alley, was so intense, it nearly made me cry. It was like staring right at the sun. Unbearable and painful. Without my protective lenses, I was blinded.

  Suddenly I was not so invincible.

  My senses were completely overwhelmed, and for a minute, I just stood there in a panic. With my eyes shut, I could feel myself starting to walk toward the security panel by the door. I knew Beth’s code—she’d given it to me a while back—and I could think of nothing else but getting that wailing alarm under control. I didn’t get far, though, because someone hit me over the head.

  At least it got quiet.

  SOMEONE WAS holding my hand. It was warm and a little rough and nice.

  “Neil?”

  The hand loosened but remained.

  “It’s too bright,” I whispered. My mouth felt thick and weird, like I was trying to talk around cotton balls. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel bright lights on me, penetrating my eyelids, making the throbbing in my head worse.

  The hand left me suddenly, and I said… something, but then the room was dark and the hand returned and it was okay.

  When I woke up for a second time, I was a little more aware of the world.

  For one, I was lying down. It was not my bed because it felt too high and was definitely not as comfortable as a pillow-top mattress. Secondly, I was wearing significantly less clothing than how I had begun the day, which I found strange.

  A wave of nausea hit me next, and I swallowed the sour taste and kept my eyes firmly shut. Something was wrong.

  Where had Neil gone?

  “Neil?” I asked, my own voice sounding far away.

  “You awake, kiddo?”

  “Dad?” I cracked open one eye. The room was dark and extremely fuzzy. I reached up to my face, but I wasn’t wearing glasses. “Oh shit.” I heard myself laugh dryly. “Help, I’m blind.”

  I could make out the blob shape of my father approaching the bed. He took my hand and patted it, but it wasn’t the same as before. “You’re all right, Sebastian,” he said firmly. “Everything’s all right.”

  “Where’s Neil?” I asked again.

  My father hesitated, but I had closed my eyes again and didn’t know why. “He’s not here.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “He hasn’t been here, Sebastian.”

  “He was holding my hand.”

  Dad paused again, then just patted my arm once more.

  “Do you think you can answer some questions, Sebastian?” another person asked.

  “Whoa,” I said quietly. “I know that voice. It’s Mr. Medal of Honor.”

  “What?” That was Pop.

  I opened my eyes again and raised my other hand slightly, pointing at the out-of-focus, standing figure. “Calvin is a hero.” What the fuck was I talking about? I heard myself laugh again. “My head really hurts. What did I do?”

  Calvin stepped closer to the bed and took a seat in the nearby chair. “What do you remember?”

  That seemed an easy enough question.

  “Let’s see,” I said slowly, licking my lips. “Garland….”

  “Why were you at the Emporium so early?” His tone was calm and soothing. It made my head hurt less.

  “Christmas,” I muttered. “I didn’t want to be a Grinch….”

  “You were putting up decorations?” he asked, but sounded like he already knew that.

  I started to nod and then winced and shut my eyes again.

  “Then what?” he quietly pressed.

  “I thought about you.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I think you’re hot,” I answered, and even as I heard myself say it, I didn’t censor myself. Was I on drugs? “I googled you.”

  Again, he asked, “Why?”

  “Medal of Honor,” I muttered. “Silver Star, Purple Heart….” I moved my hand to pat my dad’s. “Army, Dad.”

  “So it seems,” Pop answered.

  I opened my eyes and glanced at my dad, but I think he was staring across the bed at Calvin. Shock? Impressed? I know, so was I. He was an action-movie hero, without the movie part.

  Calvin cleared his throat. “Sebastian? Why were you next door?”

  “Which next door?”

  “Good Books.”

  “Oh shit, the security alarm,” I muttered.

  “It’s taken care of,” Calvin insisted.

  “I heard it. I thought—Oh boy, it’s sort of hard to remember.”

  “Try,” he pressed.

  “I went over there because I was angry. I wanted to kick that punk’s ass, but then it got bright.”

  “I think he means someone turned the lights on,” Dad said. “It’s like whitewash to him. He can’t see anything.”

  “It hurt,” I added. “But my head hurts more. What happened?”

  “Someone knocked you out,” Calvin said.

  “Whoa.” I slowly turned my head to look at him. “Who?”

  “Good question.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked next.

  “You called me.”

  “Shut up.”

  He sounded slightly amused when he said, “You did.”

  “I don’t remember.”


  “You weren’t making much sense,” he agreed quietly. “But I heard the alarm going off, and your speech was slurred. I knew something was wrong, so I got over there before the security company had a patrol stop by.”

  “You should get another medal.”

  Calvin was quiet for a beat. “I have enough,” he finally said.

  “Do I have a concussion?”

  “Yes,” Calvin answered. “Your doctor wants to keep you overnight for observation.”

  “I have to go home,” I replied.

  “You’re staying, kiddo,” my dad said.

  “But I have to work.”

  “Work can wait,” Pop said sternly. “I already called Max. If you want him to run the shop, let me know, but otherwise the Emporium can stay dark for a day.” He stepped away from the bed. “I’m going to get your doctor now that you’re awake. Detective Winter, could you stay for another moment and watch him?”

  “Sure.”

  I closed my eyes, listening to my dad’s footsteps leave the room. “Are you watching me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I won’t die, I don’t think. You can leave.”

  “I’ll stay,” he said quietly.

  I gripped the blankets lightly, taking deep breaths because the world still felt like it was spinning, even with my eyes closed.

  “You scared me,” Calvin said quietly.

  “Hmm?”

  “When you called.”

  I squeezed my eyes tighter, thinking about the bookstore. Then I added the wailing alarm to the memory and recalled walking toward the security panel. That’s right. I was going to shut it off. Nine, nine, four, six was Beth’s code.

  But then I was hit.

  I didn’t remember pulling out my cell phone, nor calling Calvin. I didn’t even remember him answering.

  “Sebastian? Where are you?”

  “Surre—hurts. I can’t turn ooooff.”

  “I’m on my way, sweetie. Please keep talking to me. Has someone hurt you?”

  “Head—hurts a lot.”

  “Sebastian?”

  “Isss loud—I—I’m sick.”

  I remembered vomiting and then nothing.

  “Did I pass out in my own barf?” I whispered.

  “No one but the paramedics and me know,” Calvin said, but I swore he spoke with a smile.

  I opened my eyes again. “You like pet names.”

  “What?”

  “Baby, sweetie. You’re the romantic sort under that stern exterior.”

  “Why did you look up my military history?”

  I waved one hand lightly. “Got curious. How do you have the highest military honor ever awarded and not talk about it?”

  Calvin was silent for a long time.

  “I can’t see your face. Are you angry?”

  “Do I sound angry?”

  “No. You sound… weird.”

  “I don’t like talking about it,” he answered gently.

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” Calvin was quiet for a beat. “Do you want me to call Millett for you?”

  “W-What about you?” I asked. That whole, baby and sweetie thing was making me think….

  “He’s your partner. I’m sure he’d be worried,” Calvin said. “I’ll give him a ring.”

  That’s how I ended up seeing Neil again.

  My doctor was explaining to Pop and me that because of the bump on my head, and the fact that I had been sick and lost consciousness, it was a sign of a serious concussion that he felt was best monitored by authorized personnel for twenty-four hours. I had zero interest in staying in the hospital and running up a few grand for my brief and unpleasant stay, but Dad was having none of my bitching, so I promptly gave up.

  I watched the blob standing against the wall near the door. Calvin had called Neil like some chivalrous knight and told me he was on his way. The doctor had hardly left the room before Neil burst in, breathless and anxious.

  I thought his reaction should have been comforting—to see him upset over me—but instead it agitated me. Calvin had been upset, but he’d kept his calm the whole way through.

  “Sebby?”

  I let it go. “Hi.”

  Neil ignored Calvin as he stepped by him and dropped his coat on the chair Calvin had been sitting in before. He walked over to my side. “Jesus, they told me you have a concussion.”

  “Pretty hard head, though. I’m okay.”

  “Don’t make jokes.”

  “I’m—” I took a deep breath. I was suddenly very tired. Did Neil always make me feel like this? “I’d like to sleep,” I said while closing my eyes.

  LINGERING LIGHT was coming in through the closed blinds when I woke up. I rubbed my eyes and yawned.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  I glanced to my right. Neil had taken over the chair. I looked around. “Where’s Dad and Calvin?”

  “Calvin?”

  I looked back at Neil. “What?”

  “You called him and not me.”

  “I’d been hit over the head. I’m lucky I managed to call anyone, Neil. I probably just hit something at random.” I didn’t like that I couldn’t see him. Without glasses, I couldn’t even make out body posture well and needed to rely on his tone to understand his emotions.

  Neil sighed heavily. “The weather is bad. I had a patrolman drive your dad home.”

  “Oh… thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  I pointed at the window. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly four.”

  “What? I’ve been sleeping all day?”

  Neil nodded, I think. “The nurses woke you up a few times, but you were a little loopy.”

  “I feel strange.”

  “That’d be the concussion.”

  Neil helped me with the bed remote once I started to complain of lying still too long. He got the bed into more of a sitting position for me before taking the chair once again. “How have you been? Besides this.”

  “I’ve been fine.”

  “Have you?”

  I turned back to Neil. “Where have you been staying?”

  “A hotel,” he answered.

  I looked down at my hands, rubbing them together absently. We were both tiptoeing around each other. Both wondering the same thing. Where did we stand as a couple? I thought of Calvin. Should I just tell Neil then and there and—

  “Sebby,” he said. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

  I guess this was it.

  “About the tension between us. You know I love you, right?”

  I stopped rubbing my hands and looked up. “Neil,” I protested.

  “I think. If you can be patient with me, I can—become out about this.”

  “Patient?” I echoed. “Four years isn’t long enough of a wait?”

  “Seb,” Neil said in his chastising tone. “It’s different for me. You know that.”

  I pressed a hand gently to my forehead and shut my eyes. “I can’t talk about this right now, Neil. It’s only making me angry.”

  “Why angry?”

  “I’m not waiting another four years to hold your hand in public,” I replied firmly. “I can’t. It’s my fault, for not realizing so much sooner how difficult this actually was for you…. Neil, I—I still need some time to think about this.”

  “You don’t want me to come home?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “You’re the one who stormed out.”

  “Y-Yeah, but you need someone to take care of you.”

  “No, I don’t.” I turned my head a little to stare at him. “I’m sorry. I thought I was ready to discuss this, but honestly this wasn’t the answer I expected from you.”

  “What did you expect?” When I didn’t respond, Neil asked, “Do you want to break up?”

  I swallowed the baseball lodged in my throat. “I… don’t know.”

  I thought I had known the answer. Twelve hours ago I was sure of it. But maybe faced with Neil and no way to es
cape made me chicken out. Did I want to continue riding the rough waves of our relationship? I knew no pairing was perfect and the waters would always push you down, but shouldn’t a healthy couple… not be struggling to break the surface all the time?

  I just couldn’t say that. The concussion must have knocked the courage out of me. Or maybe I just didn’t know how to face saying good-bye to something that had been a part of me for so long.

  “I can’t do this now,” I whispered.

  “Sebby, if you don’t know if you want to remain together, don’t you think that speaks for itself?”

  “Neil, please.”

  He let out one of his frustrated sighs. “Fine.” He stood, leaned over, and kissed my forehead so gently, it felt like being touched by a feather. “Give me a call when they are ready to discharge you. I’ll bring you home.”

  I didn’t respond really, but squeezed his hand and waved when he left the room.

  I needed another nap.

  IT WAS completely dark when I woke again. My head still hurt like a bitch, but the heavy fog that had been making me feel disoriented and lost was starting to clear. It helped that I could see better in this darkness.

  I looked around the tiny room. My glasses were sitting on the small table with a swinging arm so it could be moved in front of me. I reached over and missed once—twice—before snagging them and putting them on.

  It felt better, being able to make out details.

  Like Calvin asleep in the chair beside me. He looked uncomfortable. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest, and his suit jacket, which he’d been using as a blanket, was falling onto his lap. His head rested awkwardly on his shoulder.

  It had to be the middle of the night. The hospital was quiet. Why had he come back? The precious few hours he had to sleep, he chose that uncomfortable chair at my side instead of his own bed?

  My heart swelled and beat uncomfortably fast.

  He looked cold too. I shivered myself and pulled the blanket up my chest.

  I studied his sleeping face for another minute, wanting so badly to touch his hair, wrap my arms around him…. God, what was going on?

  “Calvin?” I whispered.

  He startled suddenly and sat straight up in the chair.

  It caught me off guard. I didn’t realize he had been awake.