Instinct by Jason Hough (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

“And that’s my point. Because I’ve been having some issues of my own. And I didn’t realize it until Kyle said something at the bar an hour ago. Though it was just an echo of something you said even earlier, at the diner, Clara.”

“What I’d say?”

“That I didn’t need to do everything myself.” I point at Kyle. “Or, as Kyle put it, that I’d stopped with my ‘typical Mary Whittaker team operation.’ ”

Clara’s quick to brush this aside, but Kyle’s features are as if chiseled from stone.

“Ever since that guy attacked me last night,” I add, “I haven’t been myself.”

“It was empowering, you said.”

“This is more than that, though. I have to really, really think about it, but when I do I can recognize this change inside me. I bet if you do, you’ll see it inside yourself as well.”

‘I guess so,” she says haltingly.

“Yeah,” Kyle says, nodding. “I think you’re right.”

I glance at him. “You’re feeling differently, too?”

He shakes his head, slowly at first but then more firmly. “Nah, I just mean in you. I noticed the change. Couldn’t articulate it, though.”

“Hold on,” Clara says. “You said you started acting differently ever since that guy attacked you.”

“Yeah. Specifically he put a rag coated in some chemical over my mouth.”

“But nothing like that happened to me.”

I give a slow nod. “True. Hadn’t thought of that.” It’s a dent in my theory. One of many, really. “Nothing like that happened to Sally, either. At least that we know of.”

Clara’s eyes go wide. “Meaning? Are you saying he attacked her, too? Or did it without her knowing? Wait, are you saying he did something to me? Like, while I was asleep or…?”

I shake my head, before she can get too worked up. “I’m not saying that.”

“But it’s possible.”

“I… no. I mean, yes, but I just don’t think that’s what’s going on here.”

“So what is?” Kyle asks, after a brief silence.

We all sit there, staring at the table.

“The cell tower?” Kyle asks.

I groan.

“What?” he asks. “I’m not one to buy into a Silvertown conspiracy theory but… I mean, c’mon, something’s causing this, and that giant antenna is new. The timing has to mean something.”

I grimace and shake my head. “This would be going on all over the country, then, wouldn’t it? Those towers are everywhere.”

He shrugs. “Maybe no one else has put two and two together yet.”

“Let’s call it a distant possibility, then. What else could be causing this?”

“Runoff from the mine?” Clara suggests. “In our water?”

“The mine’s been closed for ages, hasn’t it?”

“True.”

Kyle leans in. “It’s not part of the water supply, anyway. Silvertown’s comes from snowmelt, far as I’m aware.”

Clara tilts her head, conceding the point.

Kyle nudges me with his elbow. “You have a theory?”

I hesitate. Trying to put my thoughts into words makes it all seem like nonsense. I feel like I’m just falling into the Silvertown trap, finding a conspiracy where none exists. Or worse, inventing one. Making connections that aren’t really there.

“No,” I say as casually as I can. “Just trying to think it all through.”

He nods, sips his coffee. Clara does the same, and for a while we all sit and ponder.

Okay, so Clara and I are acting strange but Kyle seems his usual self. Another point against my theory. I consider the other examples from the last few days. The hiker? Okay, so he froze when faced with an angry bear. Is that so bizarre? Not really, I admit. Willy Jupitas walking in front of my car? People get absentminded sometimes, do they not? Especially in their later years…

“Mary?” Clara asks. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” I ask.

“Excluding us,” Kyle says for her. “C’mon. Think out loud. What’s your theory?”

I sigh. “My theory is that this town might finally be getting to me.”

“And?” he prompts.

“It’s nothing,” I reply. “Really. I just need to not be so gung-ho about proving myself while Greg’s gone. I do need help, that’s the simple truth. I need you guys. And as long as the three of us agree something is really going on here, I can… I mean… we…”

“We’re a team,” he says, and pats my hand warmly. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep reminding you.”

“Thanks.”

He nods at me. But he doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I still think there’s something to this, Mary, even if you’ve talked yourself out of it.”

“Maybe you’re right. I need to think about it more. And I really need to get some sleep,” I say. Neither of them voice opposition to this.

“Tomorrow, then,” Clara suggests. “Breakfast at the diner. We’ll figure this out.”

We say our goodbyes to Clara only after she promises to lock her door, activate her security system, and call me first thing in the morning.

“Want another sleep-aid?” she asks me at the door. “They really do work.”

“I’m good,” I tell her.

Outside, Kyle walks me to my car. We embrace, and our lips find each other’s. The kiss lingers, starts to become something more. It’s me who pulls away first.

“You can stay at my place,” he says, voice husky, hands firm on the small of my back, pressing me to him. “If you need.”

“Sleep, Kyle. Sleep is what I need.” I sigh and move to rest my head in the crook of his neck. And there’s my left hand, resting over his heart, the words YOU NEED HELP practically shouting at me.

“That’s all I meant,” he says with mock indignation. “Any insinuation otherwise—”

I press a hand to his lips. “Fine. Okay. Let’s go.”

I follow him home, and we’re lucky it’s late because his place is on the top floor of the same building O’Doherty’s is in. Right across the street from the police station. At this hour, no one’s around to see me climb from my cruiser and walk to Kyle’s.

We kiss briefly under the little lamp above the entrance. It’s an inset doorway just to the left of the pub’s front door, leading straight into a set of narrow stairs that provide access to the three apartments above the pub, each one floor above the