17
When my dad said that there was a Warren spy on the farm, a collective gasp rose from everyone present in the dining room. Beside me, Jen even startled as well, grabbing the sides of her chair as if to help give her support during the shock.
A council member named Peter called out, asking my dad who the spy was.
Clenching his jaw, as if he was loathed to answer, my dad hesitated for a moment before doing so. “I don’t know…but it’s definitely one of the newcomers to this farm.”
Jen suddenly piped up. “Well, it’s not Johnathan. He’s not a vampire shapeshifter in duck form or anything like that. And I don’t have any proof about this, but…just trust me. A mother knows her own son.”
With his nostrils flaring a bit, my dad heaved a sigh. Several people rolled their eyes, looking at Jen, and several other people stifled groans. Sitting across from us, facing us, Mel looked at Jen while making a motion with her fingers as if to zip her mouth shut, clearly implying that Jen should do the same. In response, Jen mouthed the word what, shrugging, as if she really couldn’t imagine what she might have done wrong. However, she didn’t say anything else about Johnathan, and my dad began speaking again, drawing everyone’s gazes back to himself.
“As far as how I learned about the spy, I don’t want to reveal every single detail about that, at least not right now, and not to everyone. However, I will tell you all the basics. I had a contact in one of the roving Warren covens in the country…a spy of sorts, working for me. I received a communication from him earlier today, informing me that one of the Warren covens has placed a spy of their own here on the farm. My contact is now dead, and as to how that happened, I don’t want to get into that, mostly because it has nothing to do with the matter at hand. I will say, though, that from what I’ve been able to gather, my contact died without having his true identity as a spy revealed. So, I don’t believe that the Warrens know that we know that we also have a spy in our midst.”
Sitting a few seats down from Hayden, Carol piped up, asking if my dad’s contact had been able to give any clues as to the identity of the spy on the farm.
My dad said no, very unfortunately. “If my contact knew, which I don’t think he did, I don’t think he felt at liberty to tell me in the communication he sent me. My contact did, however, say he was certain that the spy recently entered the farm via the wave of newcomers, because this is what he had heard, and he did refer to the spy with the pronoun he; so, we know he’s a male.”
My dad fell silent, and Mark asked what the “game plan” was for determining who the spy was.
My dad said we had no other option than to watch and wait. “I think we’re going to be able to eventually determine who the spy is simply by closely observing the behavior of all male newcomers. Who makes a lot of private phone calls? Who falls back and doesn’t take part when the Warrens attack and we’re fighting them? Who leaves the farm for ‘hunting trips’ alone? Who seems ill at ease, or reluctant, when talking about their past? Who seems just a little bit ‘off’ in some indefinable way? I think that within time, the answers to these questions will help us. In the meantime, I’m going to review the backgrounds of all male newcomers. As you all know, I, along with a few of you council members, personally and carefully vetted all newcomers, corroborating personal details with our various vampire allies whenever possible. However, it’s not at all outside the realm of possibility that one of the newcomers very cleverly and expertly invented a fake identity that somehow passed our ‘sniff test.’ In fact, now it’s obvious that one of the newcomers did.” Steepling his hands together on the table, my dad paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “Now, obviously, we don’t want to tip off the spy that we’re aware of him. So, as far as this meeting tonight, the story is going to be that this was a private meeting for the purpose of discussing how well the newcomers are adjusting to our community, and how well we’re adjusting to them. We’ll continue having these meetings every two weeks, indefinitely, until the spy is caught, and it’s at these meetings that I want you all to share your observations about all male newcomers. If anything jumps out to any of you between meetings, or if any of you think you have solid evidence as to the identity of the spy, I want you to come to me personally, and we’ll talk. As far as informing the rest of us non-newcomer Watchers here on the farm about this situation, I’m going to have a second meeting here in about an hour. And again, this meeting will be held under the guise of me wanting to talk with everyone about how well the newcomers are adjusting, and how well we’re adjusting to them. To make this ruse seem even more real, I’m also going to hold meetings every two weeks with all the newcomers themselves, so as to give them a chance to discuss any concerns that they might have in regard to how well they’re acclimating to the community. Does this all make sense to everyone, and does everyone understand what we’re all supposed to say these meetings are for?”
Everyone nodded or murmured yes, and my dad said good.
“Now, this is maybe the most crucial thing, especially since some of you have become friends with the newcomers, or have begun romantic relationships with them. I don’t want any newcomer, male or female, no matter how trustworthy they may seem, to be told anything about the spy, or anything that is said at these meetings, and I want to be crystal clear about this. None of you are to say anything about all this to any newcomer. Furthermore, when discussing this situation among yourselves, I want you all to be aware that there might be very stealthy listening ears around. Because of this, I’d almost prefer if this situation wasn’t discussed at all outside of these meetings, when I have some of my most trusted guards patrolling outside. However, realistically, I know that some of you are going to feel inclined to want to talk about this among yourselves anyway; so, all I ask is that you do so only in complete privacy, and in very hushed tones. Also make sure that the communication is necessary and brief.”
Beside me, Jen piped up. “So, basically, no one should be just hanging out at the creamery, just shooting the breeze about the spy with anyone who happens to walk by.”
My dad said yes, exactly, seeming pleased that Jen clearly understood.
Probably making him even happier, she clarified further. “So, also basically, say someone thinks they’ve noticed something weird, or say they think they’ve just happened to see some proof or something about who the spy is. That person should only speak to ‘original’ Watchers, meaning all of us who’ve lived here forever, and the person should only say what they have to say in complete private, when no one else is around. Right?”
My dad said right. “Although, ideally, people will come and talk to me first, but if a person absolutely must discuss something with a friend or family member, then, yes. It should be done in complete privacy; the communication should be brief; and it should be whispered or spoken in a very low voice.”
Jen said okay. “I won’t even talk to any of the ducks about this, then, because who knows who could be around, eavesdropping. I’ve had quite a few newcomers coming near the pond lately, and who knows why they’re doing it.”
I was pretty sure that some of them had been stopping by simply to see the strange sight of a human girl swimming in a muck-filled pond while being followed by ducks as if she was their mother, although I wasn’t about to say this to Jen.
After asking if anyone had any questions, my dad soon adjourned the meeting, and the house slowly emptied out. When only people who actually lived in the house remained, my dad guided me into the sunroom with an arm around my shoulders, telling me that he wanted to talk to me alone for a second. Having a seat in one of two white wicker chairs, I had a pretty good idea about what he wanted to talk to me about; so, I wasn’t really surprised when he had a seat beside me and spoke two names.
“Jake and Paul. Chrissy, I know you care for them both, and I know you’ve become close to them both. You can’t tell either of them anything about what we talked about here tonight at the meeting, though. You can’t trust either of them.”
“But I do trust them both.”
“You can’t, though. Not until we know who the spy is. It could be either one of them.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s not. I know Jake and Paul, Dad. Neither one of them is the spy.”
“You don’t know that, though. You can’t possibly. You know, most spies are spies for a reason. It’s because most of them are able to blend in, and conceal their identity. Most of them turn out to be the person you’d never expect.”
Knowing that he was right, but just not wanting to admit it right then, I said nothing; and after a few moments, my dad continued.
“I just want a promise from you, Chrissy. I just want you to promise me that no matter how you feel, and no matter how much you think you can trust Jake and Paul, you won’t say anything to either of them about the spy. I need you to promise me this.”
I thought for a long moment, sighing, and then grudgingly looked at my dad. “I promise. I won’t say anything to Jake and Paul. You have my word.”
“Good.”
“I think you might feel a little silly for even remotely suspecting either of them could possibly be the spy, though, once it comes out who the spy really is.”
My dad shrugged. “I hope I do. I hope I do feel a little silly for even remotely suspecting them.”
My dad soon had to take a phone call and left the sunroom. I looked out the wide row of windows at the sinking sun, an orange ball of flame in a pale pink sky, almost wanting to laugh at the mere thought of either Jake or Paul being the spy. That’s completely ridiculous, because I trust them both completely, I thought, having no idea just how soon that trust would be shattered.