Page 53 of The Executioners Three

In turn, the agents had painted a clearer picture for Freddie.

They told her no one had even known there was a curse, much less that the spirits could be reawakened.

Not until Edgar Fabre Sr. had found the old diary—that was the first time anyone had even conceived of such a possibility.

And while Edgar hadn’t been foolish enough to try to summon the spirits by killing someone in the manner the poem had described, his son had clearly had no such qualms.

Throughout all of their debriefing sessions, Freddie had tried to also uncover as much as she could about Harris, Li, and the Department of Unexplained Phenomena.

Unfortunately, all she’d come away with so far was that they called it the DUP for short (pronounced dupp ) and most questions were countered with We aren’t at liberty to answer that.

Including the one Freddie asked right now as she rolled her bike to a stop before their bench. “What about extraterrestrial ice parasites?” Freddie toed down her kickstand. “Those were in season one of The X-Files, and they sent the host into a murderous rage. Seems plausible to me.”

“We’re not at liberty to answer that,” Harris said right on cue. Of the two agents, she was the More Chill One, and right now, she was pulling a tin of Altoids from her pocket. She offered one to Freddie, who took it happily.

She offered one to Li, who did not. And to be fair, he had a Diet Coke in his hand—because he always had a Diet Coke in his hand.

Freddie had learned over the last week that these were their respective schticks: Harris chomped Altoids, while Li pounded Diet Coke.

And it had prompted Freddie to do some serious soul searching for her own schtick.

Having Xena around her neck wasn’t enough.

Carrying Tic Tacs or gum felt too similar to Harris.

A thermos of coffee wasn’t interesting, and she had no desire to take up something gross like smoking.

But that was fine. She also had plenty of months before she needed to find her schtick and blend in with the other DUP agents…

Li stood now, more than doubling his height. “Don’t forget to, uh…” Yawn. “Call us if you need any help dealing with all of this stuff. Your historical village should be fully scraped—”

Scraped, Freddie had learned, was what they called cleaning up all the supernatural evidence and restoring a site to its original state.

“—and things seem to be back to normal in your town. But you’ll be a better judge of that than us. So if anything comes up, you know how to reach us.”

Indeed, Freddie did. But she also agreed with Li that everything in Berm had pretty much gone back to normal.

Even the official story of a “murderer loose in the forest” had already faded into the background.

People were more invested in the Fête du B?cheron that was five days away—and in ensuring no funny business unfolded during the jack-o’-lantern contest—than they were in the drama of last week.

Seriously: Harris and Li literally did not need a Men-in-Black mind-eraser thingie. People just did it naturally.

“Any final questions before we leave town?” Harris asked. She also stood now, crunching into her Altoid.

“Yes!” Freddie leaped at this opening. “I have two questions, actually. First, are vampires real? In season two of The X-Files, they are and they steal blood from blood banks. I feel like, if this were accurate, we’d hear more often about blood bank theft.

But then…” Freddie bounced her shoulders.

“I’ve also seen firsthand how you guys scrape after a crime scene. So, are they real or not?”

Harris cleared her throat, noticeably not answering the question, while Li opened his Diet Coke in a pfffft of released carbonation.

“We’re not at liberty to answer that,” he said eventually.

And Freddie beamed. That, she felt, was probably the closest she’d ever gotten to a confirmation so far. “Good to know. Be on the lookout for vampires.”

“And your second question?” Li prompted, lifting the bottle to his lips.

“Will you hire me after I graduate in June?”

He choked, half spitting his soda out, while Harris’s eyebrows shot so high they pulled two curls loose from her bun. “Um, you’re a little young, Ms. Gellar.”

Freddie lifted a palm. “I turn eighteen in April, which is old enough for a summer internship. I asked Jeeves what the federal standard is.”

“Yeah, but we’re also not like other federal departments.” Li wiped his mouth.

“True,” Freddie forged on. “But you told me yourself that I’m unique because I not only remembered what happened here, but I also accepted it so easily. Surely you would want such a skillset in your internship pool—”

“We don’t have interns.”

“—and I will also add,” Freddie launched her voice a bit louder, “that I am locally known as the Answer Finder. Because I’m very good at sniffing out answers, obviously, and I helped the sheriff catch a shoplifter last year.

” She flipped her hair. “I’m also known as the Prank Wizard, although I suspect that’s less relevant to your needs.

“Still, you won’t find a better intern for your branch in Chicago, so you can expect to hear from me in six months.”

“Except we still don’t do internships,” Li said.

“Oh, but you will .” Freddie bared her most charming grin. “Look—your partner has already accepted this fact. Tell him, Agent Harris.”

The woman laughed. “I didn’t say anything!”

“Yes, but I can tell by that twinkle in your eye that you already know I’ll be at your side soon enough, helping you track down vampires.”

Harris shrugged at Li. “She’s persuasive. You gotta give her that.”

Li only scowled. “Look.” He screwed the top onto his soda. “Just stay out of trouble, okay, Ms. Gellar? Yes, you have a… talent most people lack, but don’t be stupid about it.”

“Absolutely.” Freddie smiled sweetly.

“No, but really, Ms. Gellar.” This was Agent Harris. “Please don’t go looking for unexplained phenomena. It’s dangerous.”

Freddie nodded solemnly. “The truth is out there.” She turned to leave, bike wheels squeaking.

And Harris—after a surprised snort—called: “Okay, we heard that, you know.”

“Heard what?”

“That you just quoted The X-Files instead of agreeing.”

“Oopsies!” Freddie swung her leg over the bike seat and flung a final, innocent grin at the agents. “See you in six months, partners! And don’t you worry, because I’ll definitely have a schtick by then.”

She pushed into the pedals. The bike squeaked anew, and if Harris or Li shouted anything after her, Freddie didn’t hear.

The October wind bit across her. Fallen leaves smeared by.