Jake had some sort of event on tonight at the White Rabbit, so after spending the day curled up in Jake’s bed, Murphy had woken up a couple of hours before daylight, showered there (since Jake’s bathroom and plumbing was much nicer than his own) before taking himself home to catch up on a few things he’d been neglecting in the heady flurry of a new romance.
Murphy hadn’t seen Ben since the night the blonde had told him he wouldn’t be siring him, or even really heard from him. It still felt too raw, so Murphy didn’t want to initiate contact, not just yet. Hopefully he assumed Ben was just giving him a bit of space to get over it, not that he’d just forgotten about his human friend since making his decision. At least he’d had Jake to distract him from that disappointment.
Murphy rifled through his small pile of post, made sure his bills were all up-to-date, checked his bank account to make sure that bonus from the paper had gone in following his last article and by then the sun had set. He dropped Jake a quick text:
Have fun tonight, looking forward to seeing you later. X
Murphy had just started browsing through the latest news article when his work phone vibrated and let off a jaunty little set of tones to indicate a text. Murphy jumped slightly at the sound – he wasn’t used to actually getting messages on that number – people preferred to email or call – texting didn’t usually get enough information across when it came to his line of work.
His hazel eyes skimmed over the message after he’d dug it out from an inside pocket of his bag and a frown flickered over his face. The subject itself was disturbing – he really hoped someone wasn’t going to try to tell him a story about Jake or Charon. He also had no idea where the location mentioned was.
Murphy spun his chair back to the computer and typed the address into the search bar, discovering it wasn’t too far away. He’d have to drive since it was outside the city limits, but he’d have plenty of time to get there. His fingers itched to reply, but the tone of the message, telling him to come alone, gave him the impression the author might be a little jumpy, so it would probably be best just to follow the instructions rather than firing questions before meeting.
The human had a quick dinner (currently spending most of his time being on night shifts with Jake was playing havoc with his body clock) before grabbing his bag (complete with notepad, a pen and spares, tablet and some cash in case his lead needed his wheels greasing before he’d give up the story) before heading for his car. Given the subject of the message, Murphy didn’t want to tell Jake about it before he had any more information and he guessed there would be plenty of time beforehand. If the story was true, the texter should have evidence as he’d said, which Murphy could see and review in his own time. If it was bullshit there would be no evidence and he would just have a wasted journey.
Murphy arrived five minutes early, relieved that his satnav had taken him to the right place. The human had a final rummage through his bag before stepping out of the car. He was wearing dark jeans which fitted nicely, teamed with a white t-shift under a red plaid shirt which hung open, his sleeves rolled up to just under the elbows. His gaze drifted over the motel as he quietly shut the car door, aware that as it was late there would probably be humans sleeping. He felt a thrill of excitement run through him – this feeling never got old. Even thought there was the potential this might be a story he didn’t want to hear, it could lead to something good, or something which might even help Jake and/or Ben.
He ran a hand through his hair as he approached the motel, eyeing up the numbers on the doors before finding the right one and knocking quietly just before midnight.
