There is no helpful flashback, so she has to ask.
Contrary to what he had said during the greeting, Samuel does not seem especially surprised. Or coherent.
"Oh, now I wonder if you really forgot, or it wasn't you at all," he says.
"It's probably the former. My mind has not been working right, lately…"
Which is true enough. At the same time, Chloe can't help but wonder if Samuel's mind has been perfectly up to speed. Lately or ever. Especially after he smiles and nods at her comment, knowingly. Also at the same time, though, she feels something heavy and toxic spreading through her limbs. As if her brain is an octopus who just released a cloud of blank ink into her bloodstream.
"It's OK not to be OK, Chloe Price," Samuel says 3 years earlier, as she stands in his doorway at Blackwell, hatching a plot to sabotage the sprinkler system.
Is it, though?
"Just tell me Samuel, please."
"A few weeks ago you came here asking if I had seen Rachel Amber, recently and with a man. I told you that I had not, and you went away."
"What? That's it?"
"That was the extent of the conversation, yes… But later that night I heard someone walking around my property. I turned the barn light on, and they ran away. I thought maybe you didn't believe me and wanted to make sure I didn't keep Rachel in one of the buildings here. People are sometimes suspicious…"
"Are you sure it was me?"
"The brief glimpse I caught of them reminded me of you, Chloe Price, and the bootprints I found in the morning seemed like they were left by the cowboy boots you wore when you visited me, but like I said before, it could have been someone else. I shouldn't have assumed. I apologize."
"Was it raining?" Chloe asks.
"Indeed. I remember being… disappointed that… someone would suspect me enough to come searching in the middle of such a downpour. I mean, I realize that I may come across as strange at times, but… Are you all right?"
Chloe doesn't hear the question, even though she's not actually having a flashback, only remembering it.
The rain and the dark woods and the fear and the knife in her hand. And then another image flashes through her brain: a flashback, a hallucination, or just a very vivid scene she just imagined.
She can't fucking tell anymore.
The image is of a big ass wooden plank standing horizontally on its edge, leaning against a rusted carcass of steel shelving. First standing and then falling flat, like a hatch closing.
"No," she says.
No fucking way.
Chloe Price stabs Frank. Except suddenly it's not Frank. It's someone else. She can't tell who, but she stabs.
She's about to fall. Does, actually, but Steph and Samuel catch her and sit her on the sofa.
"What is it, Chloe?" Steph asks.
Fear.
That's what it is, Steph.
A voice in the back of your head. Voices. The black humming. Whispering that sometimes it's better not to know. That sometimes its better to give up the search. That sometimes a lie is better than the truth.
Except no. Chloe's not buying it.
Can't afford it.
She's too broke.
She's not stopping, no matter how scary the truth is.
Fear is the enemy, so fuck fear.
She shakes her head.
"Just a bad… vision."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not… right now."
Samuel again looks unnervingly like he knows.
"A man once said reality is what doesn't go away when you stop believing in it," he says. "But I wonder if it's really that simple."
There's a long silent pause, with which only Samuel looks perfectly at ease.
"We actually came here, because we heard you're something of an expert on motorcycles."
Steph to the rescue.
For the first time, Samuel does look surprised.
"Really?" he asks. "It's not because you wanted to make sure again that I'm not keeping Rachel Amber in my shed?"
"Sorry to pry," Max Caufield says, "but why are there photos of Rachel Amber in your shed? I'm curious about her…"
It's a Janitor's Closet, Chloe thinks absently. Why would she call it a "shed"?
"Can we make sure of that at the same time?" She asks, out loud.
"We were actually wondering if you can help us identify a bike," Steph cuts in. "Chloe?"
Samuel studies the photo on Chloe's phone for a long time. Long enough for Chloe to calm down a bit and look around the room. There are bookshelves packed with tomes, a TV that reminds her of waking up in that motel room, and a wall-mounted lamp that looks like a deer hunting trophy. There's a fireplace and enough wooden squirrels on the mantelpiece for an all-squirrel chess set. The fat one is the rook. The stupid-looking one is the king. They look a lot like the pair of squirrels that used to guard the mantelpiece at Casa De La Price (what the hell happened to them, anyway?). Did those come from Samuel, too? Her dad never mentioned him, but did they know each other? Is it possible that they had been friends at one time who drifted apart?
In the corner next to the fireplace, there's a log leaning on the wall vertically. Future Squi-nocchio. Is Samuel trying to create a "real boy"?
"That is an Indian Classic Chief," Samuel finally says. "Probably 2000 to 2003. What do you want to know about it?"
"We're more interested in its owner," says Steph.
"The only Indian Classic Chief I know of in or around Arcadia Bay belongs to this guy named Tommy."
They talk over each other.
"Do you know his last name?"
"Where can we find him?"
"Does he live in town?"
"I don't know his last name or much about him," Samuel replies, "except that he's a Tillamook."
"He's a Native American?" Chloe asks.
"Yeah. The bike is like an inside joke I don't quite understand."
"So he might be staying with the tribe. On the reservation?"
"Might be, but your guess where that is is as good as mine. I know they've been forced to move a few times recently. Because of the fire a few years back, then because of Pan Estates. Who knows where they ended up. Would you like to see the shed now?"
It's pretty awkward as they follow him out of the house and wait for him to remove the padlock. Inside, there are two motorcycles: a Harley and a Yamaha. Both are in pristine condition. There's nothing else of note in the shed, not even hay on the floor, but Chloe's eyes scan it for hatches, anyway.
"Do you think Tommy had anything to do with Rachel Amber's disappearance?" Samuel asks, locking the shed again.
"That picture is the only lead we have at this point."
"That's not much of a lead. Rachel gave out headshots like squirrels chasing food."
"What does that even mean?" Chloe asks under her breath.
"But if you want to know where the tribe is, you should probably ask Claire."
"Claire? Who the hell is Claire?"
"She's the only other Tillamook I know."
"OK. Where can we find her?"
"I believe lately she spends most of her time in the alley behind the Two Whales diner."