Chương 38: Character Assessment

I made the mistake of checking my phone while we waited for Crawler Kielar and his party to exit the gate.

"I know I failed you as a mother, but taking Beth away from us as revenge hurts her more than anyone. Send our angel home. It's the right and good thing to do." Years ago, I told myself that blocking her number completely was cruel, that I should keep that line of communication open so we could someday reconcile. Now I wondered how long it would take her to find my new number. She got this one by sweet-talking someone at my university.

They weren't supposed to give out personal information to anyone, not even family, but my mom found a weak link and got what she wanted. The CDM would be her next target, most likely, and maybe I could count on their discretion. No, it wasn't worth the trouble. If texting me gibberish made my parents feel like they had done something to save my soul, that was better than them showing up in random places like they did to Beth. Five hours after our arrival, Kielar exited the gate.

His party disappeared into the trailer to shower, and he emerged twenty minutes later in a fresh kit. His handler handed him a tall cup of tea and a protein bar. Ignoring Megan and me entirely, Kielar asked his handler if the training run was on schedule. It was, and the party was at the gate, waiting for him to arrive. Getting across town meant another hour of sitting quietly doing nothing. Kielar tilted his seat back a bit and took a nap. We had to listen to him snore the whole way, which bothered me deeply.

Every one of his inhales was like someone sucking on the straw for an empty drink, layered with the music of quivering sinuses and loose mucus. I read that modern torture often involved endless loud music and jarring noises to psychologically unbalance a captive. In the car that day with Kielar, I learned that it wouldn't take much for me to give up every secret I had if it meant the fucking snoring stopped. Finally, we arrived at a C gate in a rundown playground.

Five crawlers, all men, jumped to attention when they saw Kielar's escort approach. Four of them looked to be Beth's age, and the other one was maybe a few years older than me. It looked like they all arrived in the same Mill Rat SUV. That stuck out to me because smaller gates rarely bothered with that level of coordination. Everyone driving in separately was usually easiest.

"The CDM threw a wrench in my day," he told the crawlers as he stepped out of the vehicle.

"We're supposed to do more drills this run, but I'm worn out. We're bumping up your test. This is your crawl now. I'll be with you, but if I have to step in, you fail." All of the crawlers replied with, "Yes, sir," but only three seemed excited about the change of plans. The oldest crawler looked like a fighter, which meant he was on the verge of multiclassing into a spellsword build. He was pumped by the news, as were two of the younger boys, both martial classes as well.

The last two, a mage and a cleric, were visibly nervous. The mage in particular looked both afraid and guilty at the same time. His eyes darted between Megan and me every now and then, like he was trying his hardest not to look at us but couldn't help himself. The soon-to-be spellsword was the party captain, it seemed. He spoke a few words about goblin tactics, paying attention, and following orders before leading the other crawlers inside.

Kielar followed with his cup of tea in one hand and a half-eaten protein bar in the other. With time to kill, I pulled this gate up in the CDM database and looked through the crawlers registered to close it. The one nervous mage had my interest. If something was out of the ordinary, it was worth paying attention to. I think Grensmith told me that at one point during harvest site inspections, or maybe it was Chapman? Anyway, the mage seemed exceptionally uncomfortable.

Probably nothing, but I didn't have anything else to do. Brennan Kielar, twenty-one years old, a level 12 black mage crawling under the Mill Rats. Martin Kielar, the man I had been following since early this morning, was Brennan's great uncle. None of that information was noteworthy. Another nepo baby crawler wasn't anything special. I wondered what class daddy Kielar was, so I clicked through Brennan's known affiliations.

I found two uncles, two more great uncles, two great aunts, three aunts, seven cousins, and a grandfather–all registered crawlers. Not all of them were active, but they were all in the database and had a fair number of runs under their belts. Strange that neither of Brennan's parents were registered crawlers. The CDM database listed their names, but like with any family member who wasn't a crawler, they didn't link to a profile or a database entry.

I searched Brennan's mother's name online and learned she died in a car accident when Brennan was three. And his father… oh wow. He went to jail for mortgage fraud a year before Brennan's mother passed. All I had to go on were news articles, and that coverage only extended to a criminal's release if they were famous, so I didn't immediately know if he was still in prison. The commentary around the arrest, however, made it clear that the Kielar family was ashamed to have their name associated with their wayward son.

The family clearly looked after Brennan in spite of his father's choices, but I suspected that experience wasn't always pleasant for him. He might not share in the true guilt of his father's sins, but surely he found himself in their shadow at least sometimes. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. On a hunch, I scrolled back through Brennan's crawl history.

Would you look at that: he was with great uncle Kielar the night the church crashers went missing. Was there something here? We didn't get back to the CDM offices until after 7 p. m. Megan had a crawl the night before, so she was pretty tired, so much so that she didn't have any shit to talk about Mill Rats when we ended the day. She must have been downright exhausted for that to be the case. That was okay with me. I needed the time to think. Brennan Kielar had my interest, but it was a stretch.

He wouldn't be the first innocent kid to be nervous around authority figures, and my gut feeling wasn't evidence of anything. I was off the case, so I could let this go and move on with my life. The risk there was my hunch could be right, and acting on it now could save the lives of future unlucky crashers. I could run it down myself first to see if it went anywhere before bringing it to the CDM. Taking this route meant an increased risk of drawing more negative attention to myself.

Enforcer Chapman would not be happy to hear that I was running my own investigation in my free time, especially if I pissed the Kielar family off and they brought that displeasure to the CDM's doorstep. Or I could bring this to the CDM now. That didn't feel like "keeping my head down" like I was told to, but at that point I would have done my duty as a CDM enforcer, absolving me of any potential guilt I could feel if the Kielar family killed more crashers.

I tried to work up the nerve to go to Chapman directly, but I wussed out. It was late, but McDouglas' office light was on, so I knocked on the door.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" he joked when I came in. His polo shirt was neon yellow today.

"I know I'm off the crasher case, but can I run something by you?" McDouglas leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

"What's on your mind, Dick Tracy?"

"I didn't mean to be a dick, sir…"

"No, Dick Tracy." I had no idea what he meant.

"He was a detective back in the- nevermind. Forget I mentioned it."

"Well, you see, I was on a detail today and-" McDouglas held up a finger to stop me.

"Direct and to the point. Don't dance." Nodding, I said, "I followed Martin Kielar around today. He ran a C-ranked training session with younger Mill Rats, and one of them was Brennan Kielar, Martin's great nephew. Brennan looked exceptionally nervous to see CDM milling around the gate, and it looked to me like he felt a fair amount of guilt. I checked: Brennan Kielar was with great uncle Kielar the night the church crashers went missing."

"Your hunch says he knows something."

"It seemed like it was worth looking into."

"Based on a kid being awkward outside of a gate."

"... Yes." McDouglas sucked his teeth as he paused to think. He spun to his keyboard, typed, and clicked around a bit. I couldn't see what he looked up, but I assumed it was Brennan Kielar's CDM file.

"Step outside, shut the door, and wait," McDouglas said, reaching for his phone. So I did. Beth texted me to let me know she made me a sandwich and it was in the fridge. Nathan texted me to say he had a rare night off from overtime at the airport. He humbly requested the apartment be relatively quiet that evening so he could catch up on sleep. McDouglas opened his door abruptly to let me back in. He returned to his desk, copied something onto a sticky note, and held it out for me to take.

When I reached for it, he pulled it back.

"There are a few things I should say before I hand this over," he said. I listened.

"This is the address to a bar Brennan Kielar frequents three to four times a week, typically for happy hour, always on weekdays. It's a few blocks from the Mill Rats. If you act on this, your story is that you happened to be in the area because of a CDM assignment and recognized him. When you chat him up, tell him you noticed he looked uncomfortable the other day. He'll lock up right away, at which point you say, 'No, no, it's okay. I was thinking you'd be a good fit for the CDM.

If you ever want to make a change, here's my card. Or if you need a favor and want to promise me a beer for helping.'"" I can do that."

"Don't say a word about crashing. You'll get made instantly if you do. Other than getting him to take your card how I said, the rest of the conversation is bullshit, like sports or streamers or whatever a kid that young is into. Got it?" I nodded.

"You are not an undercover cop. Don't lie about anything other than to cover up your interest in gate crashers, and don't get yourself wrapped up in something stupid. You bumped into the kid for drinks. That's it."

"Makes sense," I replied. McDouglas paused.

"The last thing: I have to come clean."

"About…?"

"I'm a semi-regular at Milly's." I felt the blood rush out of my face.

"That reaction is why I didn't want to bring it up," McDouglas said, "but I also don't feel right hiding it from you. Until you came in to save her from your folks, I didn't put it together that Beth was your sister. She's a nice kid. Has a heavy pour. Everyone seems to like her." My eyes drifted from McDouglas' to the floor.

"Pittsburgh is just a big small town. I didn't mean to end up in your business, but I did, and you handled that situation a lot better than most people would have. Definitely better than I would have, that's for sure. Chapman wants to bust your balls about sneaking in extra crawls because she thinks it's proof you're untrustworthy and don't take the job seriously. She didn't see what I did, though. I saw someone doing everything they possibly could to build themselves and their sister a better life."

I didn't know what to say. I willed myself to become invisible or to teleport into the nearest busy intersection.

"I don't care what your folks say. You're heading in the right direction. That's all, and I'll never bring it up again. Now take the address and get your Sherlock on. Wait, do you-""I know about Sherlock Holmes."

"Just checking. Let me know how it goes."