Fort Oakley | Part One

18 | Fort Oakley's HOA Is Wild

The next day, I try Claire's number again. I hang up before her voicemail even starts. It's become a frustrating habit now—calling over and over, even though deep down, I know Claire won't answer.

Sheriff Lucien had arranged for me to finish my school work at the house since he feared for my safety as did I after everything that had happened, but being alone at the house was driving me mental.

I had called Fin earlier since I needed to catch him up on everything that had happened lately, but his parents didn't want him near the woods for a while after what had happened with Lieutenant Roscoe and then the man coming after me. I didn't blame them, but it sucked since I didn't want to talk about everything over the phone.

My thoughts had shifted to Jacey. I wanted to find him and talk to him, but after what he told me at the hospital about people knowing he was with me, I figured he couldn't meet up with me for whatever reason.

So now, I was sitting alone on the dock by the lake in front of Claire's house, the rhythmic sound of the water lapping at the shore helping to calm the whirlwind of questions in my mind.

My paintbrush glides across the canvas, but the colors felt off, no matter how many times I had tried to fix it.

Gravel crunches in the distance as a car comes through the trees along Claire's driveway. I look up from the canvas, spotting Agent Vance's black SUV pulling up to the house

He steps out and shakes his head, looking exasperated. "Do you have regard for your own safety?" He asks, his tone sharper than I've heard before. "You're just as reckless as your father, you know that, Charly?"

I set my paintbrush down, smiling at him. "Hello Agent Vance, it's nice to see you too." He rolls his eyes at my sarcastic tone. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard what happened," he says, walking closer. "You didn't think to call me like I told you to when someone tried to drown you?"

I shrug. "I called the Sheriff. I figured you were busy, being an FBI agent and all."

Vance's expression sours. "I don't care if I'm in the middle of a meeting with the damn president, Charly. You call me when you're in trouble."

"Why do you care? I don't even know you."

"Because I am your godfather, Charly. Now tell me why there are records of you being in the hospital a few days ago."

Wait, what?

"You expect me to just believe you? No offense, sir, but I'm not that trusting of people lately."

Vance sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I can prove it, Charly, I promise. I can prove that I knew your parents and that they wanted me to protect you. I can give you all the answers you want from me, can you please just tell me why you were in the hospital?"

I hesitated, then decided there's no point in not telling him. "I've been taking antidepressants since I was a kid, since apparently, I had depression. But it turns out, that's not true and I've been drugged and brainwashed since I've started taken the pills."

"Who prescribed you the pills?"

"Dr. Evan Mallory."

Vance's face hardens, and he pulls out his phone, typing something quickly before slipping it back into his pocket.

"How did you know you didn't need the pills?" he asks, his voice calm but probing.

"A friend told me," I reply, my tone cautious.

I wasn't going to snitch on Jacey. Snitches ended up in ditches. Or apparently, drowned in rivers.

"Jacey Andino?" Vance asks.