The Thief: A Thief's Report

Hey, don’t worry, I’m here. Sorry it took me so long to get back here, boss. Traffic. Job then debrief or debrief then job. It’s up to you, though I personally would go with the latter. I don’t want to think about that place any longer than I already have been forced to. I can? Oh, thank god. Okay, here we go. Apologies for language and whatnot, but this whole thing has been kinda weird as fuck.

From the outset, shit went sideways. Not necessarily in a bad way, but just in one of them kinda awkward ways. So, I show up to the bar, get the key, everything’s going great. Then some naked young lady shows up instead of the old guy. Some lady named Linda, evidently she’s your Jim’s daughter and like half the town is obsessed with her. Also, the bartender that you, well, gave me advice on. Could’ve mentioned the relation, but that’s neither here nor there. Turns out something's up with Jim. Or was. I’m not positive what it was exactly, but from what I’ve pieced together, he was recovering from something medical. He was with the town’s plague-doctor type far too often for that not to be the situation. Pete, right? In any case, the daughter gave me the same deal you told me the old man would give me. She also mentioned some name I didn’t recognize at the time. Mikey. Some time later Alex told me about him, but at the time, I was in the dark. Because you sent me in under prepared. You could have told me Vlad was going by a different name in town. Didn’t give her any reaction, just in case. I followed the rough script outline, save one thing. I learned back in the day not to shit where I sleep, and since the bartender was now my landlord… So, instead, I just became buddies with her.

Alex kept me out of too much trouble. You failed to tell me that my mere existence in that bar would draw the attention of the town Lawman, so I expect a bit of hazard pay. Alex helped assuage my fear and told me to do the opposite of my instinct and confront the guy. Turned out to be the right move. Your boy Alex seems to know his way around people. Any reason you haven’t brought him out to help with the expansions? Right, sorry, debrief before business. My bad. Don’t mean I’m not right, though.

Meanwhile, I kept in shape by exploring the old town. Seemed like a real weird place, but I’m not one to judge. After all, I grew up in a broken down boardwalk, so everyone’s got their own fucked up past. No one spotted me doing it, though I am uncertain whether or not people saw me enter the fenced off area. Too many alleys and corners with eye-lines. You really should have someone find a better entrance point to the old town, but that’s just me. I didn’t like being that exposed. Only other spot of trouble I already reported on. The Liv situation. But, you know all of that. I’m still not sure what else there is to say on that topic.

Jim eventually came back from his self-imposed exile from the bar, and so I followed the script. He approached me after closing one day, when I was finishing up cleaning and heading down to my room. “Rick, right?” he asked me.

“You must be Jim. Pleasure.” I gave him a pleasant but curt smile and nod.

He shot me a smile right back. “I hear you came in via the spare key. I’d love to know who told you about it.” He was acting all polite, but it was most certainly an interrogation. I was pretty certain right in that moment, that dude was a cop in a different life.

“My boss told me about it. I’m just glad it was still in the same place,” I told him, sticking to my outline, “It’s been a hot minute, after all.”

Jim nodded. “Well, I’m glad you helped out my girl while everything was up in the air with me. How are you liking the room?”

“It’s sufficient,” I replied, “Then again, I ain’t moving in. Just a short stay, you know?”

He smiled and let out a chuckle. “Of course,” he answered, but in a way that makes me think he didn’t believe me, “I know that feeling. I’m glad everything’s working out for you. Just remember, if you want to stay.” He trailed off.

“I know,” I said quickly, just like you told me to, “But I won’t need to.” I needed to be firm in that assertion, right? Because I didn't want him to think I was even considering it.

After my quick rejection, he backed down immediately. “I see,” he said, “Just tell your boss that his help is appreciated.”

“Will do,” I replied as I walked away. I didn’t give him anything on you, so we’re good there. I settled into bed for the night and morning as per usual.

The next day, I broke protocol. I was worried and needed to know what was up with Jim. Not in the present, I’d pretty much figured that out already. But who he was, I just didn’t know enough to do my job. So, I went to the best source of information in town. No, not Cynthia’s. She knows a lot, but she’d tell everyone everything we talked about. No, I’d seen how that cougar Tina had been looking at me for a month or so at that point, and so I stopped by her bakery and let myself be seduced by her. It was mediocre at best on both parts, but the relations weren’t the point of it. Lying in my bed with her afterwards, I, as though an offhand thought voiced accidentally, mused, “You know, I barely pay anything for this place. Do you know why on earth they’d do that for someone they don’t know.”

Tina chuckled, and turned around in the bed to face me. “Wait,” she said, seeing my pondering expression, “You don't know?”

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down at her. “I don’t know what?”

She looked up at my dark but honest eyes. “Jim used to be a runaway, too.”

“Why do you say I’m a runaway?” I asked.

She laughed. “Anyways, his first time here, he lived on the street for a while before one of the kinder families gave him a room. The doc’s grandparents. The man reminded them of someone. The guy leaves again a month later, to take care of stuff. Comes back with some money and an infant daughter. No wife. He bought the old saloon and retrofitted it, specifically to give home to people like you. Wanderers and runaways who need some help.”

“Wow,” I replied, smiling, “What a beautiful sentiment.” In my mind, I knew I wasn’t paranoid. The man had led a previous life. One that had him laying low in a town with no footprint. He probably was a trained interrogator, before he became a bar owner. Though, whether for the law or some other side, that question was now up in the air.

Unfortunately, that was pretty much the extent of my research. See, the next day was your call, about the job. After the call, I began wrapping up our business. Cleaned the old town, first wiping everything I’d touched down, then re-dusting those areas with local dirt. Spotted something interesting during my cleanup that you might want your next plant to check out while they're laying low. One of the old houses, not the mansion with the R on it, but just one of the smaller houses nearby on the property, has an unmarked and undocumented basement off of it. I only saw it because I was digging up dirt to dust over the areas I’d wiped clean from months of repetitive use. I didn’t even react to it, because those last couple weeks, I’m pretty sure your friend, um, Liv, was keeping track of my exercise time. Didn’t want anything to be out of the ordinary.

After cleaning that area, I moved on to every other area I’d touched or used in that time. Each day, I maintained my schedules, and at nights, I went through the areas that I’d touched and wiped and dusted them. I erased my existence, one place at a time. A week in, I’d done all the cleaning I could, save the room and the bar. I gave the bartender a knowing nod when she went to bed. I stayed down to wipe down everything I’d ever touched in the bar. I didn’t want or need to dust over the wiping, because they were undoubtedly well aware of what I was doing. I mean, Linda had already straight up told me that she knew I was a wanted criminal. With that completed, I moved downstairs, avoiding touching anything. I packed up all of my stuff back into the duffel, and started the wipe-down of the room.

Around morning, I headed out to the bus. Jim must have heard me hard at work the night prior, because he was waiting for me. I told Alex to meet up with me because I was heading out. I approached Jim. “Sorry about leaving on such short notice.”

Jim chuckled. “You mean, on no notice. Don’t sweat it, I expected as much.”

“It’s just, a friend needs me back home,” I said, sticking to the script.

Jim nodded. “I’m sure he’ll be grateful,” he replied.

I chuckled. “Anyways, thanks for the room. And the job to keep my hands busy.”

He smiled. “Any time,” he said, then turned around and left.

Alex came up five or so minutes later, as the bus was coming down the road. “What’s this about leaving, Rick?” he asked.

I gave him a curt nod. “You knew this was coming,” I said, “Everything's clear back in New York, and the boss’s got a job for me.”

“Of course he does,” Alex replied, with an eye roll. I get the distinct feeling he was expecting you to tell him in advance, like you’d told me, but I ain’t about to tell anyone how to manage their friendships. I just disappeared on my friends for months, so I’m not one to judge. In any case, he walked away, I boarded the bus, and that and a couple trains later, here I am.

Overall, the job was relatively uneventful. That person you told me to keep an eye out for never showed up, but given how much of that town is comprised of horrible gossips, she’ll definitely hear about me the moment she gets back. Unless something bigger or more mysterious happens. Never know. You ever plan on telling me who this chick was, Jo, or is that some great horrible secret? Just kidding, I don’t want to know. Anyone who seems to know anything about that place gets dragged in or vanishes. Which brings us right to Vlad. Whatever our friend found is a mystery to everyone. And, yeah, from everyone’s reactions to me, except the cop and Jim, I’d guess you were right. No one has heard from or talked to Vlad since he left Serendipity. You may well be the last person on earth to have a conversation with him. Albeit through text. If you want, I could get in touch with some people I know embedded with the Russians, try to see if he made contact at all. Sounds like a plan. Alright, now to the important thing. What’s the job? I need something to get my mind off of your weird and complicated town drama. Okay?