If you understand or if you don't
If you believe or if you doubt
There's a universal justice
And the eyes of truth
Are always watching you
(Enigma--The CROSS of Changes)
When they returned to the Miller house, they saw a car parked in the driveway. It was an older car, conservative, but obviously well maintained. "Maybe Mr. Miller," Logan commented. "Mrs. Miller was in her kitchen when I was checking it all out an' this car wasn't there."
"We'll find out won't we?" Magnus pulled in behind the car and turned off the ignition.
"Guess we will," Logan agreed, stepping out of the car. "I'm following your lead now boss. I hope you have a plan."
"I don't," Magnus responded as they walked to the door. "But I don't think I need one." He rang the doorbell and stood up straight, waiting for someone to answer it.
The door opened and in the doorway stood a petite woman with short black hair that curled around her face. She wore a yellow dress with an apron tied over it. There was flour on her hands. She looked at Logan and Magnus; her expression puzzled as she wiped her hands on the apron. "Yes?"
Logan sniffed quickly, and immediately identified her as the same woman from the kitchen the kitchen the last time he was on the property. He said nothing, waiting to see what Magnus would do.
"Good afternoon," Magnus said, his voice smooth and con trolled. "Is this the Miller residence?"
"Yes..." Mrs. Miller's brows furrowed. "I-I'm Laura Miller. My husband Paul is here, if you were looking for him..." Her voice trailed off, leaving questions unspoken in the air.
Magnus ignored the unspoken questions and nodded instead. "I'm Mr. Aaron Magnus. This is my associate Logan Devany. We need to speak to you and your husband." He ignored the look Logan was giving him and focused his gaze on Laura Miller.
"Can I ask what this is about?" Laura inquired, her voice tone controlled and polite.
"I'd like to discuss this with you and Mr. Miller," Magnus said firmly.
Laura Miller hesitated briefly then opened the door wider, stepping aside to allow Logan and Magnus to enter. "Well, won't you come in then?"
She ushered them into the living room. "I'll just go get Paul. Um, make yourselves comfortable, I'll be back shortly." She left the room.
When they heard the sounds of her feet walking up the stairs, Logan turned to Magnus. "Devany?" he sneered. "Logan Devany? Where the hell did that come from?"
"It was the fastest name I could come up with." Magnus said, not at all apologetic. He looked around the room; his gaze taking in the old, but comfortable furniture, the large cross hanging on one wall, the pictures on the mantle. He stepped closer to the pictures to look.
"Yeah, but Devany?" Logan frowned. "How lame can ya get?"
"Oh, lighten up." Magnus took one of the pictures from the mantle and studied it carefully. "For all you know, Devany could be your name."
"I'll shoot myself if it is." Logan grumbled.
Magnus knew Logan wasn't half as upset by his new name as he pretended to be. "Take a look at this," he said softly, changing the subject.
Logan came over and looked at the picture Magnus held in his hands. A younger looking Mrs. Miller looked out of the picture. Standing to the right of her was a man with grey hair, who looked to be about ten years older than her. His arm rested on her shoulder casually. To her left stood a young girl, nine or ten perhaps, with long chestnut colored hair and a mischievous smile on her face. "You think that could be our basement woman?" Logan asked, studying the clothing all three wore, the younger face of Mrs. Miller. "I'd say this picture is over ten years old. This girl would be about the age of the woman in the basement now."
Before Magnus could answer, they hear the sounds of two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. He quickly put the pic ture back exactly where he'd found it and stood by the fireplace. He noticed that when he placed the pictures with the others, you could still see Laura Miller and the gentleman, but the girl's image hid from sight.
The same gentleman from the picture walked in, followed by Laura Miller. "Hello," he said, cautiously; his gaze fixed on Magnus. "My wife told me you wanted to speak to us?"
Magnus subconsciously drew himself to his full height, his back straight. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do need to speak with you." He held out his hand. "I'm Aaron Magnus." He towered over Mr. Miller by several inches. "This is my associate Logan Devany." He motioned to Logan, who nodded politely as he moved to sit on the couch.
Mr. Miller took the offered hand and shook it carefully. "Paul Miller."
"Can I get anyone anything?" Laura Miller asked softly. "Coffee? Iced tea?"
"No thank you," Magnus said. Logan shook his head.
"I hope you don't mind if I sit down," Paul Miller said, moving to a reclining chair and sitting. "I came home from the factory early today because my back was bothering me."
"Hope it's nothin' serious," Logan said politely.
Paul Miller didn't hear Logan's comment, he was too fixed on Magnus; who made no move to sit. It was Laura Miller who spoke. "Nothing too serious. It's an old injury and sometimes it acts up." There was a suggestion of worry in her voice, as if the old injury caused her more concern than she wished to admit. Logan could almost sympathize until he remembered the girl in the basement.
"Would you mind telling me what this is all about?" Paul Miller asked, politely enough.
Magnus was the only person still standing in the room. Even Mrs. Miller had sat in another chair, near her husbands. Magnus looked down at Mr. Miller, keeping his expression completely unreadable. "I'll come right to the point, Mr. Miller. Why is there someone locked in your basement?"
For a moment the room got so quiet that Magnus could hear the sounds of birds singing outside. Mr. Miller broke the silence. "How did you find out?" he asked. He sounded surprised and a bit curious, but there was no trace of shock in his voice.
"Never mind that," Magnus said sternly. "There are laws against locking people up."
"She's not a person." Paul Miller looked him straight in the eyes, his voice calm.
Whatever is going on here, Mr. Miller believes he's in the right! Magnus thought, feeling more than a little startled. He's surprised at being caught, but I don't think he feels the slightest bit guilty about what he's done. He cut his gaze to Laura Miller for a moment. She, at least, had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, but Magnus couldn't tell if it was for actually locking the woman in the basement, or because he and Logan had discovered it. "Oh?" He looked back at Paul Miller. "If she's not a person, than what is she?"
"She's the anti-Christ."
There wasn't a trace of disbelief or chicanery in Paul Miller's voice. He spoke with the confidence of a man who believed undoubtedly, every word he uttered. It took a great deal of self control for Magnus to keep his composure and not change his expression in the least. He looked over at Mrs. Miller, to see what she thought of this statement. She still looked slightly chagrined, but she nodded in agreement to her husband's statement. "I see," Magnus lied, refusing to look over at Logan. He had a feeling he wouldn't like the look on Logan's face.
"It would be a sin to keep a real person in the basement," Mr. Miller further defended himself, "but she ain't a person."
"Why do you say that?" Magnus asked softly. Not a hint of accusation or anger lingered in his voice. He might easily be inquiring about a stubborn pet that refused to be housebroken.
"Because it's true." Mr. Miller answered, almost before the words had left Magnus' mouth. He crossed his arms over his chest; his mouth set in a firm line. "She's evil."
Mrs. Miller cleared her throat gently. She looked from Logan to Magnus. "Y'all must be thinkin' we're the evil ones," she murmured, her voice getting a little stronger with every word, "but Paul is right. She's evil."
"How?!" Logan spoke up abruptly, barely disguising the con tempt in his voice. Magnus shot him a look that demanded his silence, but he didn't care. "How can you say she's evil?"
"Because she is!" Mr. Miller spat out, turning his head to fix his gaze onto Logan. "My wife and I are God fearin' people. Don't ask me how...she could have come from my wife, but she did. Maybe she's here as some sort of punishment, some sorta cross Laura an' I have to bear, t'prove we're worthy of the kingdom of God, but don't you dare judge us. You have no idea what she can do, what she has done!"
"We're not the only people who know she's in the basement," Mrs. Miller interjected, her voice beginning to tremble again. "There are a lot of people in Jericho who know we keep Justine in the basement..."
"Don't call her Justine," Mr. Miller interrupted. "I told you Laura, names are for those who come from God. That.. thing in the basement does not come from God! She doesn't deserve a name."
"I'm sorry, I forget sometimes." Laura looked over at her husband, her eyes soft. "She was our daughter for twelve years, old habits die hard."
She looked back at Magnus. "But like I was sayin' we're not the only ones who know she's in the basement. A.. a lot of our friends know. Why, even Sheriff Hurley an' Deputy Black knows she's down there.. an' trust me Mr. Magnus, Mr. Devany; nobody thinks we've done anything' wrong. Everyone who knows thinks we've done the right thing. I - I don't like havin' t'keep Ju-" She abruptly bit off the name before she could finish it. "-That girl, in the basement, but we have no choice." Her eyes flick ered from Logan to Magnus, pleading with both of them to un derstand. "Paul is raght. She is the aint-Christ." The longer she spoke the more her voice shook and the thicker her accent became.
When she finished her speech, Paul Miller reached out and took her hand and held it gently, lovingly. The looked like a couple who had been through a great deal in their lives, and instead of having it rip them apart, it brought them together.
There was a part of Magnus that wanted to grab the both of them and shake them until they told him everything he wanted to know. What this Justine could do; what she did do to deserve such harsh punishment? But he knew he had to restrain himself. He wasn't here as an enemy of Homosapiens; he was here as a helper of Homo-superior. The woman in the basement was a mutant. His job was to get her out of this house, as far away from Jericho as he could. Power wasn't always the best way to get what you wanted; sometimes the subtle approach worked better. Sometimes, he thought, you have to play their games. Even if you find the games entirely loathsome.
So, instead of telling Mr. and Mrs. Miller exactly what he thought of them, Magnus nodded to them instead and spoke calmly. "I understand."
Logan stared at him in disbelief. What in the hell is this? he thought, Mags, don't you see? These people are nuts!
Magnus looked at Logan, giving him a barely perceptible shake of his head, sending him a silent message to keep quiet and play along. Logan's eyes flickered once, as if to say, "I read you boss. I don't like it, but I'll do it."
He turned back to Mr. and Mrs. Miller. "Now I see," he said, nodding. "It makes sense." He nodded, looking as if he was speaking his thoughts aloud rather than talking directly to the Millers. He shook his head as if to break himself from doing this, and looked at Logan. "We've bothered these people enough Logan. We should leave."
"Whatever you say boss," Logan said, beginning to rise.
Mr. Miller let go of his wife's hand and looked at Magnus. "Who are you Mr. Magnus? And why did you come here?"
Magnus looked at Mr. Miller steadily. I have no idea what I'm going to do about this, he thought, but it's crucial that right now these people believe I intend them no harm, that I'm on their side. "Mr. Miller, I might be able to help you," he finally said. "I don't know how I will do this, but I believe that God has called me here for a reason. However, I do not know exactly what the reason is. I must leave. I must go... to pray, meditate, and talk with God. He will make it clear what I am to do to help you and your wife. What must be done to rid you of the evil you've both been forced to bear for so many years."
Much to his relief, Logan didn't make a peep at this statement. Magnus suspected his team mate was too shocked by it. Magnus himself felt surprised at how easy the lie rolled from his lips, how believable he sounded.
Paul Miller looked at Magnus for the longest time, a peculiar expression on his face, his eyes sparkling overly-bright. "So you believe don't you?" he whispered softly. "You're a true man of God."
"I certainly am." Magnus said evenly. He knew Paul Miller was scrutinizing him carefully, looking for any change of expression, any flicker in his eyes that said he was lying. Magnus was no fool. He met the man's gaze steadily, returning it with equal intensity.
"And you really believe God sent you here?" Mr. Miller con tinued. "To help Laura and I?"
"Yes ." Magnus said firmly. "I don't know how yet. As I said, I must go and speak to God. I must pray for him to reveal to me, what I am to do. I will be in touch with you, Mr. Miller. Very soon." He looked over at Logan, who rose from the couch. "Good day to you Mr. and Mrs. Miller."
Mr. Miller rose from his chair. "I'll walk you out t'the car."
The three men left the house. When they were at the car, Mr. Miller took Magnus' hand and shook it. The first time Magnus shook his hand, it had been dry -- now it was sticky. "I just want you t'know Mr. Magnus, my wife and I have been prayin' for a long time t'God, askin' him t'help us. I believe today our prayers are answered."
"So do I." Magnus responded calmly.
"I don't like keepin' the girl locked up in the basement," Mr. Miller went on to explain. "There have been several times I've thought about killin her." He paused then added, "If she can die."
His face was serious, but he didn't look as if he secretly relished the thought ending his daughter's life. He looked as someone who suspected he had a horrible task to do, and wanted to avoid it. Magnus didn't say a word, just listened.
"A couple times, I even loaded my gun and went down t'do it, but Laura always stopped me," Paul continued. "An' t'tell you the truth, it didn't take much to convince me t'change my mind. I know the girl's evil, but just putting a bullet through her head..." His voice trailed off and he paused for a moment, then shook his head, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid. "Well, I'm just thinkin' now that maybe I never had the guts t'do it, because God was already helpin' us, gettin' ready t'send you to us. That girl's creation has nothin' t'do with God. She's the devil's spawn, but that don't mean God won't help us with it. I should know better than to ever question him."
"You should indeed." Magnus said firmly, opening the car door. "I'll be in touch with you Mr. Miller. One way or another, this situation will be resolved."
"Praise the Lord." Mr. Miller said feverishly.
As they drove away from the Miller house, Logan lit up a cigar and looked at Magnus. "I don't know what game you were pulling in there, and I ain't sure I want to know."
Magnus continued looking out the window, concentrating his gaze on the road. "I have no idea what I'm going to do," he admitted. "And until I do know, I don't see the point of making enemies out of her parents. I do know one thing though..."
"What's that?" Logan asked him.
"I don't care what that girl can do. I'm getting her out of that basement. I don't care if her mutant ability is to make butterflies out of thin air, she's coming with us. If she doesn't have what it takes to be a X-man, or a member of the New Mutants, we'll find a place for her." His voice was calm, but there was an edge of steel running through his words. "But I would like to know what she can do.. what she did do to deserve such harsh punishment."
"Yeah," Logan agreed, rolling down the window a bit to let the smoke escape. "So what's the plan now?"
Magnus pondered this question. "I think we should go to the sheriff’s office."
"Why?"
Magnus looked over at him for a brief moment, then back to the road. "Mrs. Miller claims the sheriff and one of his deputies know Justine is in the basement and approve. Let's see if Sheriff Hurley can shed a little light on this girl."
"Whatever," Logan shrugged. "I'm more in favor of just bustin in the house and takin' the girl and t'hell if the Millers like the idea or not. I'd rather not set eyes on the Millers again."
"I understand, but if there is a way, I'd rather do this with a minimal fuss."
"You're the boss." Logan said. "But I'll tell ya somethin' Mags. That is one creepy family."
"I agree with you unequivocally."
They say that you were the king of this
whole damned thing
But that only confused me
They said I don't stand a ghost
Of a chance with my host
And it frankly amused me
So let's drink a few
Here's looking at you
I swear
Didn't we meet in the night in my sleep somewhere?
(Alice Cooper--Didn't We Meet.)
Magnus shivered when he walked into the sheriff’s office. The air conditioner was going full blast and he suspected the temperature was under fifty degrees. He looked over at Logan whose eyes watered a bit, partially from the cold and partially from the thick, blue cloud of smoke that hung heavily in the of fice. “Obviously not a no-smoking establishment,” Magnus murmured softly.
The only other person in the room besides them, was a young man sitting at a desk, talking on the telephone. A cigarette danced and jerked out the corner of his mouth as he spoke, contributing to the blue cloud. He was smiling, obviously enjoying the conversation he was having, but when he looked up and saw them, his expression became blank. Any and all emotion seemed to just disappear. He spoke into the phone with a brisk tone. “I’ll talk t’ya later, doll. We got company.” Hanging up the phone he crushed the cigarette out in an ashtray and began walking over to the high wooden counter that separated the waiting room from the desks.
Magnus noted from the uniform and badge he was wearing that this person was a deputy. Standing, he was just under six feet tall. His build was average, but it was obvious he kept himself in good shape. He had jet black hair, the back coming just to the edge of his collar, the sides cut above the ears and layered carefully. His face was strong, a squared chin, high cheekbones and a full, almost sensuous mouth. He moved with the grace of a pan ther and carried with him the air of someone used to being looked at--and thrived on it. Well, well, Magnus thought, I believe Logan and I are about to meet the studmuffin of Jericho. "Studmuffin" was one of the expression's he'd heard uttered by the female members of the New Mutant. It was an expression he would normally never consider using--but in the case of this fellow, it seemed to fit. Until the young man got close enough for Magnus to see into his eyes, then any cute descriptions faded away. His eyes rested beneath a thick brow, giving him almost a sleepy look at first glance, but that was an illusion. They were two pieces of blue ice that seemed to look right inside of you, freezing a path right to your soul. Magnus judged his age to be in his mid to late twenties, but those eyes were much older. They were eyes that had seen too much and become too cold.
He looked at Magnus and Logan, the chilling eyes narrowing into icicle slits. "Can I help you folks?"
He spoke with the local accent, but it held none of the warmth of the other people they'd met. Quite the opposite, it sounded sinister. There weren’t many flatscanners who had the power to make Magnus feel uneasy, but this young man did. He wasn't the only one; Logan was growling under his breath, staring at the Deputy with as fierce an intensity as the Deputy looked at them. It was the look of two predators meeting. Magnus didn't blame Logan for his reaction at all, however; this wasn't the time for it. He slid his foot, lightly kicking Logan in the ankle. Logan's head swiveled, looking at Magnus with surprise and anger, then understanding dawned and the growling stopped.
"Yes you can," Magnus said, drawing himself up so he towered over the deputy. "I need to speak with Sheriff Hurley."
His height didn't intimidate the Deputy in the least. He had been staring at Logan, but he cut his gaze to Magnus, looking up at him. "Sheriff’s busy right now," he informed him. "Maybe I can help you. I'm the Deputy, Victor Black."
The Deputy Laura Miller told us about, Magnus thought. He looked down at Victor Black, keeping his own gaze just as fixed. My name is Aaron Magnus, this is my associate Logan Devany. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about the Miller family on Grove Street, if you don't mind." He stressed the single word, trying to give Victor the impression that it wasn't really a request, but an order.
"Well, Mr. Magnus, and Mr. Devany, I'd better tell y'all something," Victor Black was obviously an old pro to intimidation and wasn't at all affected by Magnus. "We don't really like strangers comin' in to' town and asking questions." He smiled, trying to look friendly, but it was a political smile that held no warmth, no feeling.
Magnus placed his hands flat on the counter and leaned for ward, closer to Victor. "The Millers have their daughter locked up in the basement," he said, his voice soft and succinct. "And, according to them, you and Sheriff Hurley not only know about this, but have given your seal of approval."
Victor Black didn't even flinch. "That's right." The political smile twisted itself into a firm line.
"You are aware that locking someone away like this is against the law aren't you?" Magnus' eyes narrowed, fixing his gaze onto Deputy Black's. "She's been down there for over ten years, in conditions worse than a prison."
Victor shook his head, a low chuckle slipping from his lips. He might have intended for it to sound as if he wasn't at all scared by Logan and Magnus, as if he didn't think this situation was worth the fuss, but it sounding chilling. "You're not from around here," he said. "Jericho ain't no big city. We take care of our own here."
His dropped his gaze from Magnus' face and looked over at Logan, reaching into his pockets for his cigarettes. The moment their eyes met, Logan growled again. Victor's hand pause, half way into his shirt pocket and he stared back at Logan. Logan's eyes seemed to narrow, but Victor's widened. His pupils dilated farther till the blue hid behind a sphere of black. As Magnus looked at those eyes he could see hostility radiating from them.
Magnus half expected the two men to lunge each other, and made moves to prevent it. He slid his foot out, kicking Logan in the ankles, harder this time. Logan jerked his foot back and stared at Magnus. His lips curled back for a moment, revealing his teeth, then he shook his head, realizing how he'd been acting. The growl subsided and he stepped back from the counter, away from Victor.
"Take care of your own?" Magnus mimicked Victor's tone. "Last time I checked, Mr. Black, approving of a family that locks their child in the basement would not be considered care. Not for Justine Miller, certainly."
Victor looked up at Magnus, reaching for his cigarettes and this time pulling them from his pocket. "The Miller girl isn't the one that needs t'be taken care of." His voice was calm now, and the animal rage Magnus saw with Logan seemed to vanish. Now his expression was calm and collect, though his eyes were still chilly and his pupils still overly dilated.
"Aaron," Victor continued taking a Marlboro out of the pack and bringing it up to his lips. "This may sound very strange to you, but believe me, that girl deserves to be in the basement."
He'd spoken with as much conviction as Mr. Miller had, but while Mr. Miller's voice had held reverent devotion, conviction and a bit of fear, Victor Black's held nothing but cold contempt and hatred. "Are you afraid?" he asked the young deputy. "Are you and this entire town afraid of a woman? Were you so afraid of a twelve-year-old child that you had to lock her away?" Good god, what could she have done to bring a town to their knees? Refuse to put away her toys? Clear her throat too loud in church on Sunday?"
"What she did is none of your business!" Victor almost spat the still unlit cigarette from his mouth.
I rattled the cage, Magnus thought. "Really?" His head tipped slightly to the right and he stared at Victor. "What would you do if I decide to make it my business?"
Victor pulled a gold lighter out of his pocket. With slow, deliberate gestures, he leaned his head over and lit the cigarette. When he looked up again, his expression was calm, almost serene. "Look, Mr. Magnus, I don't know where you're from and I don't really care. This isn't Atlanta or New York City, this is Jericho. We don't do things the way you're used to."
"That doesn't give you or the Millers the right to lock someone in the basement." Magnus persisted, trying again to knock Victor Black off guard. "I wonder how the state authorities would feel about this."
"Go ahead and tell 'em." Victor suggested, still looking calm. "Jericho may be a one-horse town, but we aren't completely cut off in the world. The sheriff has more'n a few friends outside the town. So do I."
I'll just bet you do, Magnus thought. He drew back from the counter as if lost in thought. "So, are you telling me there is no one in this town that objects to the Miller girl being kept in the basement like an animal?"
"The ones that know? Nope." Victor shook his head. "Some people in town think she's off livin' with relatives back east, but the truth is, I wouldn't trust that girl anywhere. An' it really isn't as bad as you may think. The Miller's don't starve her and they don't beat her. I've been down in that basement and it's a lot better than some of the cells at the state penitentiary. Couple years ago when we had the flood problems, the Millers got her out of the basement an' put her in the attic. So, things aren't as bad as they could be."
"I see," Magnus said, although he didn't see at all. In truth, he just wanted to get out of there. Victor Black wasn't going to tell them any thing and if they continued to exasperate him, Victor would go over to the Millers and warn them. Actually, this was a possibility already, but Magnus would take his chances. It wasn't a matter of if they would get Justine out from the basement, that would happen. Now it was just a matter of how. Would they be able to do it peacefully--or would he and Logan have to just take the girl, the Millers and Victor Black be damned?
He smiled to Victor Black, not warmly, but a smile that suggested defeat. "Well, you've made it clear there is very little that can be done. I think Mr. Devany and I will be leaving."
"Good idea." Victor looked relaxed now. His eyes were still cold, but they didn't radiate the earlier hatred. He thought he'd won. He thought he'd managed to convince these individuals to stay out of Jericho's business. "Can I give you boys a piece of advice?"
Boys? Magnus thought, fighting the urge to spring forward and grab Victor Black by the neck, squeezing it till his ice blue eyes popped out of his skull. You really have to push it, don't you? It's not enough that I conceded; now you have to drive the point home, you overconfident, arrogant ass. He forced himself to keep calm and answer, "Certainly."
"I'd finish whatever business you have in Jericho and get out of town," came Victor's suggestion. "If you boys keep walkin' around town askin' questions, you're gonna get yourselves in a mess of trouble. And no one's gonna come along to bail you out."
Logan began laughing, unable to stop himself. Magnus kicked him, sharper this time. The laughter died, but Magnus could feel the anger radiating from him. "Well, you're in luck," Magnus said smoothly. "We came to Jericho strictly for business reasons. My associate and I were looking for a possible new loca tion to expand to. However, after looking around a bit, I've con cluded that there is no place in Jericho for us. We'll be leaving town directly."
"Well, I think that's a very good idea." Victor said, taking a drag off his cigarette and exhaling a perfect smoke ring. He blew the remaining smoke straight through the ring.
"So do I," Magnus agreed. "And Mr. Black? I wish you only the best of luck with Jericho. It does seem like a very... special town."
They were barely out the door when Logan looked at him. "There is something wrong with Victor Black. Something very wrong. I don't know what it is, but he sets my teeth on edge. It ain't his corny dialog. God, half his lines sound like they came right of the script of a bad movie, its something else.. Something sunk right into his pores. If we'd stayed in there much longer, I would've ripped out his throat."
"I know," Magnus agreed, "he had the same effect on me." They headed towards the car. As they got in, he looked at Logan. "You missed the mark."
"Huh?" Logan looked at him. "What d'ya mean?"
"When we left the Millers, you commented that they were a creepy family." Magnus pulled the key out of his suit pocket and fitted it into the ignition. "It's more than that. This is a creepy town."
Logan nodded with a wry grin on his face. "As Mr. Miller would probably say, 'Amen to that brother.'"