Jacob Stone was having a good morning. One of Sarah's kids was having a birthday which happened to fall on a day when her older kids were off of school. She and her boyfriend were taking the kids on a day long adventure and had invited Max. It wouldn't hurt for him to miss a day of preschool so Jacob was happy to allow him to go.
This worked out perfectly as the clippings books had been quiet and he was so close to finishing his paper he could taste it. It was now mid-morning and he was very nearly finished. Just checking his citations and adding some notes. One of the bits of magic he had been successful at was enchanting books, which was a huge advantage for his research. Especially at this stage in writing, when he wanted to make sure he got the page numbers correct. He was thinking about another cup of coffee but he was on a roll and didn't want to stop at the moment.
A couple of minutes later, his favorite redhead appeared in front of him holding a cup of coffee.
"I brought you some more fuel."
He grinned and thanked her. They did some light flirting, her trying to wheedle her way into reading his article. He knew as soon as he told her the topic that it was completely out of her sphere, but she was game to read it anyway. He needed to try harder with her when she talked about science and math, he could sometimes follow her, his IQ was high enough but he couldn't help his mind wandering. He knew she didn't care about Dutch colonial architecture but was willing to make an effort because she cared about him. But then her eyes settled on the name he was using.
She was gentle, encouraging him to be himself, pointing out that Flynn lectured and gave seminars under his real name. He could tell she didn't really approve of his reasoning and he could hear her unspoken "this is part of what's keeping us apart" in her voice. But she let it go or at least was starting to when first Jones and then the main clippings book interrupted them.
Oklahoma. . . . well the idea made his stomach clench but it was a couple of hundred miles away from his hometown so the likelihood was not high that he'd run into anyone he knew.
So he gave no argument (couldn't really if he was honest) when Baird sent the three of them off. And really, it was kind of exciting to have a big case again. It had been quiet for too long. He was in Oklahoma, a place that was in his blood and today at least felt more like coming home than the trap it usually did. Jones was too interested in having a new case to be annoying at the moment. Cassandra was at his side.
It was going to be a great day.
Until he saw the logo on the truck that drove by. And his heart dropped to his feet.
"The hell you doin' here?"
He was vaguely aware of Cassandra's gasp as he greeted his father. But at the moment he could feel himself sinking back into the endless hole of his life as Isaac Stone's son. It was ridiculous, he was a grown man, pushing 40, a father himself, but a second after meeting that man's stare and he was a scared little kid again.
He could vaguely hear Ezekiel and Cassandra's excited murmurings behind him. He could see it from Ezekiel and in a way Cassandra as well. After all, she'd had to find out about his ex-wife and child completely by accident, they all had. He couldn't really blame her for wanting to know more about him. Especially since she'd been considering having a serious relationship with him.
But the thing was he'd never wanted her to meet Jake Stone. Any other persona of his, he'd have been happy to let her get to know. But not Jake Stone. Never ever Jake Stone. The scared, useless boy who was being cowed by his own father right in front of her.
He had to give it to her, she refused to give into his father's sexism and bull. He could tell that the old man was impressed with her despite himself.
Then the man had slapped him. Like he was a child. The same action that had led to Jacob taking Max away from Josie. But here he was just taking his father's abuse, word after harsh belittling word. He could feel Cassandra's growing anger and even Jones seemed taken aback. But there was absolutely nothing Jacob could do but take it.
Even when his father had snapped at him about turning his back on his family and taking his grandson away.
He'd wanted to snap back that the old man hadn't ever given a damn about the boy. Josie's dad had doted on his namesake for the short time he'd lived after the boy was born. But Isaac? If he was sober, he sometimes noticed the child even existed. But he'd been the same about Jessie's kids, so Jacob shouldn't have expected anything different.
It didn't get any better during the ride into the dig site. Cassandra had insisted on sitting in the middle, a gesture that he'd appreciated. He needed the buffer she provided. He could tell she was biting her lip to keep from speaking, Cassandra hated unfairness no matter who it was directed at. And his father was being particularly obnoxious. She'd very briefly squeezed his knee when his father wasn't looking, reminding him that she was there, something he really needed at the moment.
Out of everything in what was rapidly turning out to be a terrible day, his best friend was back. In her blue eyes, he only saw support and love. He'd missed that part of their relationship dearly and had at one time thought he'd never find that again. He'd been wrong like he was so much. But then her forehead had wrinkled and he'd immediately stopped focusing on his father, worried that she was going to have a spell or seizure. But his father had said something hurtful again and he'd let his attention wander back to himself and off of her.
There was something wrong. It was quite obvious but he was so wrapped up in his own pain and his sinking back into his costume that he couldn't even begin to figure out what it was. Which lead to him basically having a fight with Cassandra. He hated himself immediately for being just like his father and taking out his insecurities on someone else. But he really couldn't handle her being disappointed in him on top of everything else so he walked off without an apology. To go find his father and try to maybe find a solution that would get him the hell out of Oklahoma as soon as possible.
It had started out pleasant enough, getting the engine on that old beater started again. But it ended like it always did. His father blaming him for never living up to standards that Jacob wasn't entirely sure had ever been explained to him. It had always been Jake's fault, everything, no matter what. Back in Portland, raising his son, becoming a Librarian, he'd started to get over that. Especially with the incentive of Cassandra's love waiting at the end of the tunnel. But as his father drove away, calling him a 'son of a bitch,' Jacob felt the ground open up under his feet and himself falling deep in that hole of despair and self hatred.
He'd initially been happy to see her when he went back to the dig site. He could really use some more of her love and support. But she'd been snappish with him, excusing him of running off. He couldn't blame her really. He'd been caught up in his father and his own feelings, he'd ignored her pain earlier and then they'd had words before he'd stormed off.
But it only got worse.
"I'm dealin' with a lot of stuff right now, okay?"
"No, you are dealing with a world of lies you created. I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. None of us would have even know you had a son if we hadn't just stumbled upon him."
"What does . . . . Can we just go find Jones so we can get the hell out of here?"
"Is anything in your life true? Or is it all lies? Were you ever going to straighten yourself out? Or was that just another lie to string me along? Because I don't see you working it out right now."
"Cassandra, now is really not the time for us to be discussing our personal lives." What the hell had gotten into her? She was as cold right now as she'd been during that horrible period after Peru.
"That's what you always say. So I won't pry. You ask a lot out of me and I get nothing in return."
"Cassie . . . look can we talk about this later at home? I know I haven't . . . look, can we just go find Jones? Let's get this straightened out and we can talk about it. But right now I'm gonna go find Jones. Are you comin' with me?"
"No. You're on your own just like always. I'm done. Done waiting for what you'll never give me."
Then she turned on her heel and stalked off in the opposite direction.
Stunned, Jacob couldn't even call after her. Her words were cold but they rang so true. He'd asked a dying woman to wait for him to get his head straightened out. And what did he do? Allowed his father to treat him like a child right in front of her. Never fighting back. Never once even showing an ounce of backbone. Just folding himself back into dumb jock oil rigger Jake Stone. Barely able to take care of himself, let alone his own child. A failure of a son, brother, father, husband and now potential lover.
He'd never needed a drink as badly in his life as he did right then. Even though he knew that was his father inside his head.
Tequila lined up in front of him at the bar. Not more than twenty minutes before, he'd turned down his old man's offer of a hit from his flask. Twenty minutes before, he had the comfort of knowing Cassandra had his back. Twenty minutes ago, his life was somewhat salvageable from the wreckage that was this trip to Oklahoma.
He wanted to go back those twenty minutes. Hell to this morning. To a week ago when he and Cassandra had jokingly planned their wedding. That wasn't going to happen now.
He'd lost her. Lost her for good this time. After Peru, when he'd been an idiot and turned his back on her, he'd always had a bit of hope that she'd walk up to him one day and start yelling at him like she had in a labyrinth in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Then he'd cave and tell her the truth about everything and hoped she'd forgive him. Which she eventually had when he'd manned up and told her how he'd felt.
But not this time. She was done with him. She'd seen the man he'd been careful never to show her. Had dreaded ever showing her. Oil rigger Jake Stone, good ole boy, good for nothing but football and chasing skirts. And Cassandra was not a skirt to be chased. So what use was Jake Stone to a woman like her? Just as worthless as his pop had always told him he was.
God, he thought as he took a shot and winced, I hate Jake Stone.
Jake Stone had cost him the woman that he loved. And probably his dream job too. He couldn't face that look on Cassandra's face ever again. Soon as he drank that look in her eyes out of his brain he was heading back to Portland, packing his son off and leaving. He wasn't sure where. Maybe Texas. He couldn't stay in Portland and he sure as hell wasn't coming back to Oklahoma with his tail between his legs.
Ain't gonna happen. He'd start over again and raise his son. Come to terms with the fact that he'd never have the life he wanted with the love of his life. But maybe something good would come out of this wreck, he'd bury Jake Stone for good this time. Build a new life on the ashes of him.
He took another shot. Needed a least a couple more of these because he swore he could smell her perfume behind him.
"Hey," came her soft voice and it tore through him like she'd punched him. Why the hell was she here?
"Look unless you're apologizin', I ain't got it in me for round two," his voice sounded bitter and angry to his ears. But he was allowed.
"I beg your pardon? What are you talking about?"
He'd seen Jones so he decided not to get into specifics. That thief didn't need to hear how the girl had broken his heart. "You called me a horrible person, a liar. Said I should be on my own. Ring any bells?"
The bartender slid another shot down to him and he nodded even as Cassandra said, "I never said that."
What the hell kinda game was she playing? He'd seriously misjudged her character apparently if she was the type of woman to do this. He stood, his eyes blazing. "You said it to my face."
That's when Jones stepped in. "Ever occur to you that it wasn't her?"
It wasn't any of the boy's damn business and it rankled. "You callin' me a liar?"
"Ever hear of a shapeshifter?"
Oh God. No, no, no, no. Of course. Of course. How blind am I? If he'd been on his game he would have realized . . . .
He all but collapsed into a chair at a nearby table.
"I missed it."
"You missed what now, mate?"
He looked over at Cassandra, hoping against hope that it was exactly what he now suspected. She'd not broken his heart, she hadn't even been there. "We never had a conversation at the demolition shed?"
"No," she said softly, her eyes gentle and full of compassion. Jones was still talking but he only saw Cassandra.
Her eyes. His best friend's eyes, the soft gentle way she'd been looking at him all day. Not at all how that thing had looked at him. How could he have been so stupid? To mistake a trickster god for his love?
"Hoklonote."
Jones was asking him some stupid question, but he kept talking, mostly to Cassandra, explaining himself and how he could have mistaken someone-something else for her.
"I should have seen it. I'm sittin' here. I'm absorbed in my own problem, dealin' with my father. It was right in front of me."
"What is it?" Cassandra asked, forgiving him for his anger immediately and jumping right back into the case. Where his head should have been in the first place.
"Hoklonote is a shapeshifter. It's a Native American trickster god. It feeds on lies-telling them and hearing them."
"That's what Jenkins said," Jones added.
"Lies, every single lie, my dad's lies about the permits . . . ." My lies about who I really am.
"Mr. Jenkins said if we don't stop it, it's gonna keep feeding and getting stronger."
"And chaos will escalate."
"Well how bad . . . ." Jones didn't get to finish his sentence because an explosion suddenly rocked the bar.
They'd raced back to the construction site, just in time to see a duplicate Cassandra descending the hole. They tracked the Hoklonote to its cage. Only to have it escape and lock them in.
