Well, I took your advice-
Whoever suggested calling the cops in the comments made sense.
So I did it.
I knew that it could cause trouble if they found out about Williamson, so I just called in three missing person's reports. I mean, there is no physical evidence of Williamson's body, Alyssa cleaned up the blood, and Jeff pretty much finished off the rest, and nobody has been at Jeff's for several days. Those late fees on the pornos I put on his account are gonna stack up, brother. Anyway, the cops visited me at work, and I took them over to Williamson's and showed them around.
They were a little weird about the cages, but I just said that Williamson was an artist. In some Williamsburg lofts, there is shit FAR weirder than that.
By the way, it's winter here in Williamsburg, and that means that the chicks are out in force with their ridiculous winter hats. Hats that look like dogs, hats that are three feet tall and made of pink fur, full on Han Solo on Hoth fuzzy blue winter coats, you name it, there's a hipster chick strapping it on her head for the walk down Bedford.You have to get up pretty early in the morning to have the weirdest winter hat in Williamsburg.
And by early, I mean, like 10:30.
It is Williamsburg after all.
Anyway, they asked me a bunch of questions, and I answered them as best as I could, while leaving out the werewolf stuff. I said Williamson had gone away two weeks ago, and hadn't returned. Me and Jeff had stayed with them in the cages for an art project, and Jeff got pissed when Williamson didn't come back and stormed out. I told them about how I bumped into him at the video store and there had been bad feelings. I mentioned we went to his house and couldn't find him, and then the next day Alyssa dissapeared, which made me worried.
They seemed shifty, but cops are kinda like that. The only way you can tell if New York cops don't suspect you for anything is if they start belittling you. When I lived in Manhattan, for example, I lived on West End Ave and 66th, right behind Lincoln Center. The president was in town, and Lincoln Center was totally blocked off, which meant I would have had to go ten blocks out of my way just to walk to my apartment. I walked up to the cops on the barrier and said "Hey can I just cross through?" The cop said no, and informed me the president was in town, as if I wasn't aware of the fucking helicopters circling around. " But I live right there!" I said, pointing 60 feet past the baracade. The cop looked back at me, and with no hint of a smile, said " Congratulations" and didn't let me through.
The cops at Williamson's, on the other hand, were very respectful during the entire questioning, and that worried me.
Still, what else can I do?
I guess I just have to get back in the cage in a couple days without her.
This really blows.