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Lakewood, Colorado
Present Day
“We can’t help you if you don’t help us help you.”
I just stare at the guy. That’s his angle? Help us help you?
“Ark—” He hesitates and gives me a sidelong look, like it’s just now occurring to him that Ark might not be my real name. I let out a small snort and a smile breaks. He does not appreciate the smile or the snort, because he rubs a hand down his face and huffs some air into it.
“Ark,” the other suit says, taking over. I guess this is when they do the good-cop-bad-cop thing. “Come on, man, we know, OK?”
Now that intrigues me. “What do you think you know?”
“We know people are dead,” Bad Cop interjects, warranting a feigned exasperated sigh and an upheld hand from Good Cop.
“People die every day,” I add, just so Good Cop doesn’t have a chance to play his card. It ticks him off too, because he has to take a deep breath.
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