Carla now found herself tucked in the back office of the Hub, a blanket around her, and cops milling about. Stephen Roberts sat in front of her, a concerned look on his face.
"Three murders in two days. What the hell is going on here?" He rubbed his mustache, his eyes on the floor.
"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you." She couldn’t look at him. She closed her eyes, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body.
"Try me." He stood and began pacing. "Carla, if you guys are in some kind of trouble let me know. I can help you. I want to help you."
He placed his hand on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her, but she could only pull away. She didn’t want to be touched, to even be looked at. She just wanted to curl up into a little ball and vanish.
"You can’t help us," she snapped. "This... thing that Harvey had gotten himself caught up in is powerful. More powerful than some small town police force." She stood up, pushing past Stephen, and out into the bar where the cops were questioning the rest of her friends.
He grabbed her arm, stopping her. She turned and slapped him.
"Don’t touch me!" Her voice was a shrill shriek.
"Tell me what you know Carla. This town is going crazy pretty damn fast, and I need to know what’s causing it." He was screaming now, his face red.
Carla was shocked. Stephen looked genuinely scared. She was guessing he didn’t get many mutilated bodies in Spirit Lake. She stopped, then motioned her head towards the office.
Stephen followed her, closing the door behind him, locking them away from the rest of the world.
She had known Stephen for most of her life, but at that moment she wasn’t sure she could trust him. She knew how old the Black Rose Society was, and how deep its roots were, but right now she had to take a risk.
So she told him everything, every last detail. He sat there in stunned silence as she went on about the messages, and Charles Kramer’s diary, and seeing Harvey with Moira in the library.
He didn’t speak for a few moments, and she was afraid he was going to laugh, to tell her to knock it all off. She didn’t know what she would do if that happened. If Stephen didn’t believe her after what he had seen, then no one would.
"I don’t know what to do with that." His fingers went back to rubbing his mustache, his eyes darting around the room. "You’re serious."
"Do you think I would joke about this Stephen?" She leaned forward, looking right in his eyes, and when she spoke her voice was a low whisper, almost a growl. "Three people are dead. One of those people tried to rape Roxanne last night, and another one tried to take out Paul and Roy. I would not joke about this."
He met her gaze, but could only hold it for a few seconds. He stood, turning his back to her, his hands running through his hair, over his face. He turned, and she could sense his fear.
"Do you know where they are? Like, a headquarters or something?"
"I doubt they would advertise it, and it probably isn’t a good idea to tail Moira Clawson, considering she’s a psychotic, murderous witch." She could feel her face growing hot with anger. She knew the police would be useless.
"Then you all need to stay together. If she comes after you, you’ll be better in a group than alone." He glanced out the office door, into the bar. "Maybe you guys could stay here."
"I am not living in a bar for the rest of my life. Roy and Paul may be able to put up with it, but I can’t." She leaned back in her chair.
"Then what about Julie’s house. It’s big enough, and it’s gated." He looked back at her. "I could stay with you guys for tonight, maybe tomorrow, and we can have a police guard around you at all times." He sat down, closing his eyes, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I can’t believe I’m actually believing all of this. If it was anyone else telling me this... fantasy, I would have them committed. You, on the other hand..."
"Stephen, it’s not just me and my friends. It’s the whole town." She leaned forward, placing her hand on his knee.
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