Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology by J. Tobias Buller Page B

Brownbarr out. "Mr. Vullerman is on vacation, sir, and you informed me that he was visiting your sister."
    Brownbarr swore. "I knew that, you dunce." Blazes, of all of the times for Vullerman to be gone!
    "Then why—"
    "Forget about it, Mothinghotch. Follow me to intelligence."

    ************

    "So what did you need?" Mr. Torrey sat down and put his elbows on the arms of the chair, leaning forward. “Did you find something that worries you?”
    “Yes and no.” Will looked up at the living room clock again, shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch. Nearly four PM. Still a couple hours to go. "You see, I think the man calling you could be watching your house. In fact...” Will paused. Should he tell them or not? He shouldn't cause them more worry than was necessary, but... “I'm fairly sure that he already is. I thought I saw something last night."
    “ What? What did you see?” Mr. Torrey peered out the living room window, past Will's head. He visibly swallowed. “And—why hasn't he tried to break in yet?”
    "I don't know yet. But I kept watch." Will considered the situation for a moment. "Then again, the message always says that he's 'coming', so either the message is a fabrication to scare you, or I'm imagining things. But my intuition hasn't served me wrong before. I'd call the police to set up a watch, but I don't have any concrete evidence yet. Since I'm not on official ASP business, I can't use that as leverage, either.”
    “I understand.” Mr. Torrey gestured to the comm and the phone on the lamp-table. "What about your work?”
    "I've almost got it. I'll probably have it set up tomorrow."
    "Good." Mr. Torrey leaned back in his chair and pushed his cropped hair back from his forehead. "I'm ready to be done with this business."
    Will was about to say something more, but then something happened that twisted his stomach.
    The phone rang.
    Beeeeeeeeeeeep.
    Mr. Torrey's gaze darted toward the phone. Will glanced at the clock. Four PM on the dot. Why would the timing of the call change again?
    The phone stopped ringing, and Will grabbed it, pushing the call button to play the message. It played, but this time there was something different. The man's voice fell into silence, and for a brief moment, Will thought that the message had ended. And then, in a hoarse whisper, the man added, "I'm so close."
    Beep. The message ended.
    Will stared at the blank screen for a moment. "It's almost like it's counting down. But to what?”
    Knock knock.
    Will started at the sound, and Mr. Torrey jerked. Then he relaxed. “Just the mail. It always comes at four.” He stood up with a grunt and went around the corner to the front door. He came back with a handful of letters, flipping through them one by one. “Looks like a bunch of bills, as usual. No, hold on. What's this?” He pulled out a long white envelope. “Huh. It's got the right address, but the automated postal stamp is all weird.”
    “Can I see?”
    Mr. Torrey handed Will the envelope, and Will inspected it. “It's almost like the postal computers were corrupted or had some sort of glitch.” Will gestured to the top left corner, where the computer had printed a string of meaningless numbers. “See, there's not a proper return address. May I open it?”
    “Sure.”
    Will tore the corner and used his thumb to gently rip open the rest of the envelope. He pulled out a piece of neatly folded notebook paper and unfolded it.
    The ink was a thick scarlet, and had bled a little through the paper and run on the page, like tears. There were only two lines, and Will read them silently.
    Row your boat, row your boat, life is full of dreams
    There's blood in the water and I hear the future screams.
    “What does it say?” Mr. Torrey peered over Will's shoulder, but Will folded the letter again before he could read it.
    “Nothing important.” Will shoved it in his pocket. “And nothing you need to know.”
    Mr. Torrey pressed his lips together. “Is it