The Girl Who Kept Running

12. Fighting Off Monsters at the Fairy Rock Corner

23 September, 2050

He ordered a taco from the street vendor as he texted. He had asked Mr. Rehman to let Jafar finish his homework with Brian so the little boy wouldn't get too lonely. With the taco in one hand and pushing his phone back into his jeans pocket with the other, he made his way to the beach.

He was still surprised by how the evening had turned out. From the shock of seeing her again at the stage, to her remarkable tete-a-tete with Caleb, to his own running after her and offering her his motel room to stay. 

In a couple seconds, the phone was back in his hands and a big smile curving his mouth. In the hectic and emotional day he had, the idea of approaching the one person who could be most helpful when it came to The Dismantler had slipped his mind. 

The call connected after three rings.

"Brewster! Howya doing, kiddo?" A voice bubbling with excitement, remarkably free of the night's yawn, woofed at him.

"A thing has come up," Harry spoke quietly even though he didn't need to.

"Again? So soon?"

"Hush! Careful..." Harry glanced around just to make sure. "I don't want anyone listening in."

He was greeted by a throaty chuckle from the other side. "Sure, I can be careful." There was the sound of a body shoving off a leather chair followed by a shuffle of sandal soles on a slippery wooden floor and a low, careful click. The shuffle moved back and the leather gave off its whoopy blare. "Carry on," said the benevolent voice, the chuckle still caught in the timbre.

"A deal is about to take place," Harry began in a hushed tone. "I'm talking big bucks. It's like a trade. Likely, info for money, though it could--"

"Cars, gold nuggets, coke, bonds, I get it." Kingfisher always got it quick, literally finishing sentences over the phone.

Harry continued: "I just wanna be in the know. Any news, any rumor, any predictions, somebody saying anything, planning anything. It will be all very se--"

"Of course, it will be secretive! It always is! But you needn't have called me." There was a mysterious inflection to the last statement that Harry was sure had been uttered with mischief playing on the lips.

"I'm sorry, what now?"

"You like the epithet The Puzzler, you told me once. Well, this riddle should be within the grasp of The Puzzler."

There must have been a wink in the speaker's eye, but before Harry could respond Kingfisher clicked the call off with a throwaway comment: "Here's hoping no ghost appears at my place tonight." 

With a sigh, Harry put the phone away and cleared the last street of Gull’s Nest. He came in view of the watery sprawl of the Pacific. The beach was deserted at this hour, especially this corner.

He had come here on a strong hunch. 

This could be the only spot the girl had meant as a rendezvous point. Her assurance and assumption, that he would be familiar with this spot and would instantly make the connection, still surprised him. Her own familiarity with the area - she was clearly a new face in town - was also surprising.

He walked faster in toward the beach.

The shoreline abruptly gave way to a rock formation to the north. Up ahead the rocks were too jagged to be frequented by the beach loiterers. A thick outgrowth of mangroves occupied the beach after that. It was a wild, dense, almost unnavigable jungle of trunks and leaves that forming a natural border with Laundry Town - Estero Village's own mini mafia colony.