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‘Fuck me, I’m so bored.’ Jet held one eye open, staring at the laptop screen on the coffee table in front of her, cross-legged on the floor. ‘Is it possible to die of boredom?’ ‘Don’t try it,’ Billy said, stretched out beside her, straight-legged, his hand splayed on the rug, pressed against her right knee.
The video kept playing, full-screen, a Zoom recording split into two halves. One side was labeled Village Trustees, a meeting room inside Town Hall, harsh overhead lighting and a long U-shaped table. The five village trustees sat at the far end: Jet’s mom, Gerry Clay, and the others. Lou Jankowski was in his uniform, sitting on the right, and a handful of other municipal employees along the left, notebooks and pens at the ready.
On the other side of the split screen was a Ms Duffy, sitting too close to the camera, ruddy cheeks and sagging skin in the unforgiving light of her computer screen. ‘Thank you for joining us for citizens’ comments again, Ms Duffy,’ Gerry said cheerfully. ‘Are you here to talk about something other than your neighbor’s solar lights?’ ‘Yes, actually,’ Ms Duffy said, voice old and crusty, annoyed before she’d even started. ‘I want to talk about those new parking meters over on Pleasant Street. It is absolutely ridiculous. My daughter lives there and I’ve already gotten six tickets. I’m not paying them.’ ‘I hear you, dude.’ Jet scrolled the cursor, fast-forwarding the angry woman. No other faces appeared on the split screen, just Ms Duffy; then back to the Town Hall meeting, stretching to take over the full screen again. ‘Is there anyone else in the Zoom waiting room, Milly?’ Gerry asked someone off camera. ‘No, that’s all,’ replied the disembodied voice.
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‘Great, let’s move on,’ he said. ‘Any additions or deletions to the posted agenda? No? OK, so let’s discuss this financial report, starting with the
police revenue.’
Papers and people shuffled. ‘Next,’ Jet said.
Billy leaned forward, finger on the trackpad, exiting out of the video, back to TownOfWoodstock.org to the page called Village Trustee Meeting Uploads. ‘OK, so this next video takes us back to January this year,’ Billy said, double-clicking it. They’d started in March to be sure, and this was their
fifth video already.
Billy pressed play.
Jet held her eye open again.
The same people, in the exact same positions, wearing different clothes, apart from Lou Jankowski in his uniform. Jet eyed her mom, in the middle, hair swinging around her bare neck. ‘We’re good?’ Gerry Clay asked, looking off camera, then back to the room. ‘OK, everyone, I’m Chair Gerry Clay, and I call to order this meeting of the Board of Trustees for the Village of Woodstock. It is 6:30 p.m., January fourteenth, and I want to wish you all a happy new year for our first meeting of 2025. Present is myself, Dianne Mason, David Dale, Florence Chu, Richie Collins.’ He reeled off the rest of the names. ‘And introducing our new chief of police, who was elected by the trustees in a secret ballot at the end of last year: Police Chief Lou Jankowski.’ Lou dipped his head as there was a polite spattering of applause, a tight smile on Jet’s mom’s face, the first to stop clapping. ‘OK, Milly,’ Gerry said. ‘Do we have anyone in the Zoom waiting room
for citizens’ comments?’ ‘No one today.’ ‘Perfect.’ Gerry grinned. ‘Let’s get to the agenda.’ Jet leaned forward this time, pausing the video, freezing them all.
‘Next?’ Billy asked.
But it was something else. ‘I just realized something,’ Jet said, mind aching as it reeled back, her eyes fixed on Mom’s pixelated face, staring across at the new chief. ‘The vote for the police chief, it’s a secret ballot, right? At the Halloween Fair, I heard Gerry telling your dad that he voted for him, not Lou. And obviously
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David Dale would have voted for your dad; he and Jack and Luke play golf together, like, every weekend.’ ‘Right?’ Billy said, bending it into a question. ‘Well, for Lou to have won, that means my mom must have voted for Lou, not your dad. There are five trustees.’ ‘Oh.’ Billy turned back to the screen. ‘Why would my mom vote for Lou Jankowski?’ she said. ‘She probably didn’t even know Lou before, and she’s known your dad for over thirty years, been neighbors all that time. I just assumed it was Mom and David for your dad and the others voted against him. Why would Mom vote for Lou instead?’ Billy shrugged. ‘Maybe she thought he’d do a better job.’ ‘Seems like a bit of a dick move,’ Jet said. ‘They’re friends. Anyway, not
relevant – we’re looking for a cat.’ Jet exited the video, on to the next. ‘Doesn’t look like they had a meeting in December, so we’re into November 2024 and –’ Gerry Clay spoke over her, from the speakers. ‘– This is Chair Gerry Clay, calling to order this Village of Woodstock Board of Trustees meeting. It is 6:30, November twelfth, and present we have …’ Jet skipped ahead, dragging the cursor to the end of the names.
Lou Jankowski was gone, replaced with the old police chief. Much older, in fact, hair snow white and so thin it almost looked like it was floating above his uncovered head.
Jet circled his face with the on-screen arrow, poking him in the eyes. ‘Can’t wait to retire,’ she said, putting on an old-man voice. ‘These meetings are so fucking boring.’ ‘Yeah,’ Billy joined in. ‘Can’t wait to do all that old-people shit. Puzzles.
Gardening.’ ‘Bang so many bitches,’ Jet added. ‘That I used to be a police chief line
works every damn time.’ ‘Gonna eat so much ham.’ ‘Ham?’ Jet’s old man asked Billy’s old man. ‘Yeah. I really like ham.’ Billy’s accent had slipped, somewhere between
surfer and stoner.
Gerry stopped the fun, as usual. ‘OK, let’s get this meeting started,’ he said.
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‘Milly, do we have any citizen comments today?’ Jet asked before Gerry could, parroting her a few seconds later.
Milly’s disembodied voice floated through the speakers. ‘Yes, there’s someone in the waiting room. I don’t actually have a name; their screen name says Anon. Shall I let them through?’ Jet leaned forward, holding her breath. Billy too, right beside her. ‘Yes, let them through.’ Gerry waved his pixelated hand.
The screen fractured into two, and not because of Jet’s eyes this time.
Town Hall halved, shrinking all the people inside it.
On the right-hand side was a darkened room, no lights, just a pale glow from a window in the background. In front of it, lit from the silver of the computer screen, was a cat.
Not a real cat, not even a full cat. Some kind of filter: a digital ginger- and-white cat face plastered over the human one below, moving with it, blinking bright green, uncanny eyes. The cat wore a dark hoodie zipped up to cover their neck. Pointed cat ears out the top of their head, just a sliver of visible dark hair, but their human ears showed beyond the orange fur.
It tilted its head, cat face moving with it, staring right at Jet, almost an entire year later.
She felt the hairs stand up on her arm. Just one arm.
Then flinched as a sound erupted from the speakers: Town Hall bursting
into laughter.
Gerry Clay hooted.
Jet’s mom covered her mouth with her hand, giggled into it. ‘Oh dear!’ Gerry called over all the commotion, barely able to speak. ‘Ms Duffy, is that you?’ ‘Oh my god.’ Florence Chu laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes. ‘I’m afraid it looks like you have some kind of filter on,’ Gerry continued. ‘Has one of your grandchildren been playing on your computer, Ms Duffy?’ His voice broke, more laughter, high and tuneful, before he wiped it away. ‘Is there anyone there who can help you turn it off?’ The cat blinked slowly.
Opened its mouth, a flash of human teeth.
An awful, inhuman sound rattled against the laptop speakers.
Gerry Clay covered his ears; so did the old chief of police, and Billy. ‘I don’t want to turn it off,’ the cat said, its voice terrible and deep, from another world, reverberating on each word. Some kind of voice-changing
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software. ‘I don’t want you to know who I am.’ The hair rose up the back of Jet’s neck now. Billy pressed closer.
Gerry lowered his hands, the smile still on his face, flickering at the edges, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or … ‘Who are you?’ he said, deciding to go with the smile, but the laughter was gone, almost all trace of it.
Dianne’s hand was still in front of her mouth. ‘I’m a citizen of Woodstock,’ the cat answered in its dark and dreadful voice. ‘And I have a comment. For Dianne Mason.’ Jet’s mom lowered her hand, uncovering her mouth. ‘About Mason Construction,’ the cat added.
Dianne found her voice, an audible clack from her tongue. ‘Well, I don’t actually work there. That’s my husband’s company. Do you have a comment about –’ ‘– I want to know, how do you sleep at night?’ the cat asked, tilting its
head the other way. ‘Excuse me?’ Dianne’s voice rose. ‘How do you sleep at night?’ the cat repeated, voice growling, filling Town Hall, and Billy’s apartment one year later. ‘Stealing people’s homes so you can build mansions and vacation homes for people who don’t even live here.’ Dianne shook her head, sharing a glance with Gerry. ‘Mason Construction does not steal homes,’ Dianne replied. ‘And if you don’t mind, we –’ ‘– offering too much money to people who are too weak to say no.
What’s the difference between that and stealing? You’re still predators.’ ‘Milly,’ Gerry called, ‘I think we should –’ ‘– Pull out of the sale,’ the cat barked over him. ‘You know which one.
It’s not too late.’ Dianne shook her head, almost rolled her eyes too; Jet knew that look. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she sniffed. ‘Houses aren’t just four walls and a roof.’ The cat flashed its teeth. ‘They are important to people. And they are not yours to take.’ ‘If you have an issue with Mason Construction, I’m afraid you’ll have to take it up with my husband –’ ‘– I’m taking it up with you,’ the cat spat, shaking the room. ‘Because you can do something about it.’ Tilted its head the other way, blinked its
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strange, empty eyes. ‘And because I know your secret.’ Dianne went back to laughing, a hollow sound, looking around at her fellow trustees. ‘I don’t have any secrets,’ she said. ‘Other than my apple pie recipe.’ A spatter of polite laughter from the others. ‘OK,’ Gerry said, his smile back. ‘Milly, let’s move o–’ ‘– You do have a secret, Dianne,’ the cat cut him off. ‘The one your family doesn’t know. Except Emily. She knew.’ Dianne’s eyes snapped wide, and so did Jet’s, behind the screen. A gasp went around the room, because name-dropping Dianne’s dead daughter was a step too far, and no one was laughing now, or even pretending to. Jet gripped the edge of the laptop, leaned even closer. ‘The fuck,’ she muttered. ‘Milly, get rid of them,’ Dianne barked. ‘I’m trying,’ came the voice. ‘Sorry, I …’ The cat smiled, its awful human-hybrid smile. ‘Do you know that Emily knew?’ it asked. ‘She told me, before she died.’ ‘Milly!’ Dianne shouted, pushing up to her feet.
The fast clip of her heels as she ran alongside the table, toward the edge of the frame, her face and the panic in her eyes growing clearer the closer she got to Jet’s screen. ‘Actually,’ the cat added, ‘it was right before she died.’ ‘Milly, what are you doing?!’ Dianne disappeared off frame. ‘Move, Milly. I’ll do it myself.’ ‘Make it stop, Dianne,’ the cat said, an amused half-smile, watching the chaos unfold with those blank eyes. ‘Or I’ll tell –’ The cat disappeared.
Town Hall stretched back out, everyone doubling in size, taking over the whole screen. ‘The fuck,’ Jet said again, watching her mom reappear, walking back to her place at the table, straightening her jacket, running a hand through her mussed-up hair.
She sat, her face cracking, an empty smile that showed too many teeth, didn’t reach her troubled eyes. ‘Teenagers and their pranks,’ she laughed, picking up her papers, banging them against the table. ‘Well, that certainly livened up the meeting, didn’t it?’
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Gerry took her lead, a sigh that stretched into a laugh. But his heart wasn’t really in it, echoing strangely around the room. ‘That was crazy,’ he said. ‘Yes, absolutely ridiculous,’ Dianne agreed. ‘Complete nonsense.’ Doubled down. ‘OK, everyone ready to discuss banner permits?’ Jet clicked pause, freezing her mom, shoulders too rigid and back too straight.
Billy didn’t say anything; neither did Jet. She dragged the cursor back and pressed play again. ‘You do have a secret, Dianne.’ That hellish voice, rattling against the speakers. ‘The one your family doesn’t know. Except Emily. She knew.’ ‘Jet?’ She spooled forward, the cat jerking silently, coming alive again when
she stopped. ‘She told me before she died.’ Yelling, heels rushing on a polished floor, in a race against the pounding of Jet’s heart. ‘Actually, it was right before she died.’ ‘Jet?’ ‘What?’ She paused the video, back in the room.
Billy touched the screen. ‘Who is this?’ ‘I don’t know.’ Jet stared at the cat, into its half-human eyes. ‘Is it true?’ Billy frowned. ‘About Emily telling them a secret?’ ‘Emily died seventeen years ago,’ Jet replied, not really an answer. ‘So this is someone who knew your family back then?’ Jet shrugged, but something else had caught her eye behind the cat. A window visible in the background of the darkened room. Jet swiped her fingers on the trackpad to zoom into it. Zoomed again. A silver glare in the dark, pixelated window, turning it into a mirror. ‘That’s the reflection of the laptop screen.’ Jet zoomed in again on the hazy silver shape, her arrow tracing a pinkish blur around it. ‘Pink?’ Billy said. ‘Rose gold,’ Jet corrected him. ‘And a black keyboard. Looks like a MacBook Air to me.’ ‘OK.’ Billy chewed his lip. ‘And how does that help us identify the cat?’
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Jet shot him a look. ‘I mean, I don’t know a man who would buy a rose-
gold MacBook, do you?’
Billy shrugged. ‘It’s a bit of a leap.’ ‘You’re a bit of a leap,’ Jet muttered. ‘Can we see what’s outside the window?’ Billy leaned closer, propped his chin up on his knuckles. ‘No, it’s night outside and the laptop’s too bright,’ Jet said.
Billy thought about that for a moment, chewing his cheek. ‘Does the cat ever move in front of the laptop, blocking the screen’s reflection? Then maybe we can –’ Jet was already doing it, pressing play on this zoomed-in view, focused on the window. ‘Make it stop, Dianne,’ the cat voice said, just a reflection from this angle, an unknown person. ‘Or I’ll –’ The cat shifted and Jet paused. Its human shoulders blocked the light from the laptop, the silver rectangle gone from the glass of the window, just the darkness beyond and a pinprick of orange.
‘Hold on,’ Jet said. ‘Holding.’ She turned up her laptop’s brightness, and again, shapes emerging in the darkness outside the window. ‘That orange thing is a streetlamp.’ Billy pointed. ‘So we’re on a second floor. A bedroom?’ But Jet was looking at something else behind it. A blurry white square. A house. Faint little lines for the panel siding, the windows arranged almost like a face. A little triangle roof above the front porch and a red car parked outside. Did Jet know that house? ‘Do I know that house?’ she said aloud this time. ‘I don’t know, do you?’ She did. Her heart got there first, climbing her ribs, making itself at home in her throat. ‘Shit,’ she hissed. ‘That’s the house on River Street. Right on the corner, where my phone’s last known location was.’ Billy’s eyes widened. ‘You sure?’ ‘I saw it a million times on Google Street View, drove past a million times too. I’m sure it’s that house. It’s River Street.’
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Billy’s eyes darkened, another storm. ‘But if we can see that corner of River Street from this window, that means we’re on –’ ‘– North Street,’ Jet finished for him, throat tightening around the words and around her heart, her head not too far behind, filling in the gaps. ‘We’re in Andrew Smith’s house. Before it got knocked down. This house, again. I swear, if houses could be prime suspects.’ Billy glanced over at his front door. ‘So … it’s Andrew?’ he asked, still a few seconds behind. ‘No.’ Jet lifted Billy’s chin so he’d look at her. ‘It’s his daughter.’ ‘Nina?’ ‘Remember what the cat said.’ But Jet couldn’t remember exactly, so she dragged the cursor back, pressed play, and let it run, that dark demonic voice vibrating the laptop and the table. ‘– offering too much money to people who are too weak to say no.
What’s the difference between that and stealing? You’re still predators.’ Gerry next: ‘Milly, I think we should –’ ‘– Pull out of the sale. You know which one. It’s not too late.’ Jet paused it. ‘Andrew told us Nina was devastated when he sold their family house to Luke. This was her, trying to stop that sale. Too much money to people who are too weak to say no. She’s talking about her dad.’ She swallowed. ‘It was Nina.’ Billy nodded, seeing it now. ‘But Nina, she’s … when did she –’ ‘– She shot herself last Christmas, a few weeks after this.’ Jet zoomed back out, stared at the cat face, into those fake green eyes, trying to picture Nina’s real ones beneath, all that pain she was hiding under a filter.
Billy sniffed, deflated. ‘But Nina’s been dead for eleven months, so she can’t be the one who burned down Mason Construction last night, or who attacked you on Halloween. So this is a dead end.’ ‘I don’t know,’ Jet said, following a new train of thought, past all the broken bits. ‘It’s Nina.’ She leaned on the name, as though that explained it. ‘Nina was Emily’s best friend. And what do best friends tell each other?’ ‘Secrets?’ Billy guessed. ‘Right.’ She hooked her arm through his. ‘And something else Andrew said. That Mom got Nina fired from her job at the hotel. We didn’t know why my mom would do that. But now …’ She left it open for Billy. He pointed to the cat.
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‘Dianne figured out that this was Nina, the one threatening her? And then she got her fired to punish her?’ ‘Or silence her,’ Jet said. ‘This was not just a prank, and my mom knew it. Look at her face, Billy. She’s scared. And if she really did get Nina fired, that means whatever Nina was threatening to tell, it was true. Doesn’t it?’ Billy nodded, eyes ahead, circling little pixelated Dianne. ‘And if it was something bad enough for her to do that to Nina …’ he set Jet up. ‘Then maybe it’s something bad enough for someone to kill me over,
seventeen years later.’
‘Well, shit.’ Billy slumped back. ‘Well, shit indeed.’ Jet joined him. ‘You think your mom will tell you what it is?’ ‘I’m not going to give her much choice,’ Jet said. ‘She already lied her ass off, tried to stop us finding this video. I’d like more evidence before we go to her so she can’t just deny it, like she’ll try. It’s always someone else’s
fault with my mom.’ ‘What evidence?’ ‘Emily’s secret,’ Jet said. ‘At least some idea of what it could be.’ She laughed to herself then – short, just a sniff. ‘What?’ Billy turned to her. ‘Just. I never could get out of Emily’s shadow. And now, with this last thing I’ll ever do … here we are again. Always comes back to her.’ Billy clapped his hands, bringing her out of that particular hole. ‘So how are we going to figure out Emily’s secret?’ he said. ‘A little tricky, considering both people who knew the secret are now gone. Do your parents still have any of Emily’s stuff? Her old phone?’ Jet shook her head. ‘She died seventeen years ago. And as much as they love to bring her up all the time, they also really wanted a big guest bedroom. There’s nothing left.’ ‘OK. A little trickier, then.’ Billy pressed his fingers to his lips, splitting them into little pink quarters. ‘What year did she die?’ ‘2008.’ That date seared into Jet’s brain, the day she won the regional spelling bee and life changed forever. ‘2008,’ Billy repeated. ‘And how would two sixteen-year-old girls have communicated in 2008?’ Jet sat up. ‘Facebook?’ She searched his eyes.
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‘Facebook,’ Billy confirmed. ‘Do you think you could get into Emily’s account?’ ‘I don’t think so. Maybe I could find out the email address, but the password? And it’s not like we have one of her devices that might still be logged in after all this time. Seventeen years.’ Jet followed that thought – her eyes too – over to the front door of Billy’s apartment, and beyond. ‘But Nina died only a year ago …’ she said, left it hanging there for Billy to pick up. He didn’t. ‘Do you think Andrew still has her belongings? Her phone, or her laptop? Her rose-gold MacBook?’ Now Billy picked it up, his eyes shifting, joining hers at the door.
He turned back. ‘What are you thinking?’ ‘Oh, come on, Billy.’ Jet grinned. ‘You’re thinking the same thing.’
‘No, I am not.’ Jet stood up, winked at him. ‘What am I thinking, Jet? What are we thinking?’ ‘Andrew will be downstairs in the bar, won’t he?’ ‘Oh no,’ Billy said, deflating. ‘I know what we’re thinking.’
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