Compounding Confusion
Michael was flummoxed and sure that the whole town was going stark raving bonkers. First he’d had Roni make insinuations that he was someone else, then Lacey was acting as if his memory loss was odd and now, having visited Victoria Belfry in jail after putting her there in the first place, she rambled on about some Gothel escaping a tower, and how he was so close yet so far from some great love he’d been separated from. That’s when he’d snapped and told her that his personal life was none of her business. The insinuation that he and Lacey weren’t his great love when he was bloody sure she was, infuriated him.
What perplexed him even more was when she mentioned a ‘dagger you can’t seem to get rid of’. He had no bloody clue what she was on about there and just as he was leaving she told him about a Guardian he’d apparently been looking for, and how she had all of the information he needed. Well, now he really was perplexed and only more infuriated by the fact that he had no choice but to have her released anyway; Rogers didn’t get a warrant when he investigated her, and so the judge had seen it as an unlawful breaking and entering.
When Rogers accused him of making that happen he just scoffed, pointing out that he should have listened and followed the law. If he had, Belfrey would be locked up, the judge wouldn’t have disdain for Rogers and Michael wouldn’t have had to fight for his partner to ensure he wasn’t punished for his mistakes. It wasn’t Michael’s fault, after all. Rogers had gotten close to closing the Eloise case, broke in to private property, found evidence that pointed towards Belfrey but just didn’t get the warrant. He was the one who put himself two steps behind when he didn’t need to be. Michael was the one to save him from the consequences.
What was even weirder in his day was how he’d then agreed to humour Belfrey in her ramblings to see if they meant anything and, finding himself in a crypt with her holding a handbag claiming to have what she needed to wake up someone called Anastacia. She told him that the best way to get the information she’d promised about this guardian that was vital to his future was to wait for someone to follow them in to the crypt soon enough.
As if it could get weirder, that was when Ivy Belfry turned up with some hippie with braids who seemed to be offering to ‘help the Dark One’, asking how Belle was - whoever the fuck Belle was - and claiming to be able to help him wake up to be with her. More he didn’t understand, more he was playing along with until he was checking out of the conversation when the hippie asked him where his great-granddaughter was, and whether he knew Belfrey’s plans was going to cost her belief or not.
His head span as he got home late, having text Lacey to tell her he wouldn’t be home for dinner and would make it up to her. It was around 9 when he finally got home, hanging up his jacket by the door and rubbing at his eyes as he got in. It was the strangest day he’d ever had and he was huffing briefly, unsure as to whether he should discuss it or not. On one hand, it was private police business but on the other, it made no sense and maybe saying it all out loud would make it all make sense somehow.
“Is the water in this town tainted with drugs?” he questioned with a sigh, heading directly to the kitchen so he could get himself a beer. A much, much needed beer.