Caleb hadn't been able to bring himself to summon Liam back. The thing with Paul had been a complete and utter failure. It was so spectacularly bad, in fact, Caleb began to question the validity of trying to show Paul in the first place. 

Glumly, Caleb dragged out the mop and a bucket, cleaning the floor before he slipped and killed himself. On autopilot, brain buzzing with empty, fleeting thoughts, he went through the process of wiping everything down with a rag. When that was done he turned off the stove that was boiling the rosehip, swept up the tea light candles, and swept them into the trash bin. 

"What a waste," he mumbled, staring down at the discarded material that was so simple and yet so precious. 

Not wanting the now-soaked dead rat to begin to smell, he pitched the box it laid in with the garbage too. He tied it into a knot and went outside to put the bag into the dumpster. When he turned around and tried to get back in, he realized that he had left his keys on the bar. He sighed in defeat, looking up at the fluffy clouds against the clear blue sky. 

"Of course."

Caleb  went around the building and went back in through the bar. He locked the door behind him. Originally he was going to do business after Paul left, but now? Now Caleb wondered what the point of any of it was. 

Staring out the window, he pulled the golden pull chain of the 'open' sign. 

"We're closed…" he said sadly to no one. 

Caleb  trudged back up to the apartment, feet feeling leadened. Once inside, Caleb went about the task of drying his spellbook with a hair dryer. When that was done, the book cover had curled slightly, and over-all the book was now fluffy, its  pages slightly warped and wrinkled. 

As he sat on the toilet cover, Caleb flipped through the pages, front to back, back to front. How long he sat there, looking despondently at the pages, he didn't know. 

What was Paul playing at when he said the pages were blank? There were words, symbols, diagrams, right there, clear as day! Caleb decided he was going to look into it, because surely there had to be a logical explanation of why he could see the text but Paul could not. 

You're going crazy… 

Caleb went into the bedroom and stripped off his wet clothes. Not even bothering to redress, Caleb crawled under the thick comforter. He scooped up Liam's pillow, pressed it to his face, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. 

It still smelled like him. 

What would he do when it stopped smelling like Liam? 

You're going fucking crazy. There's your logical explanation. 

Caleb turned over, wrapped his body around the pillow, and went to sleep, because it was either that or cry. 

He didn't feel much like crying. 

~

Caleb awoke to the sound of the door buzzer. He peeled open his eyes, trying to figure out if he was dreaming. When it buzzed again he got out of the bed and padded to the door. Holding down the speaker button, he spoke. 

"Hello?" 

Seconds later, "Hi. Is this Caleb Schneider?" 

It was a pleasant male voice. Caleb frowned, just wanting to go back to bed. "Yeah, what do you want?" 

"It's the police; my name is officer Johnson. Mind if I come up?" 

Police? 

Suddenly wide awake, Caleb replied. "Yeah, hang on a second." 

Caleb moved swiftly to the window and peeked through the curtains. Sure enough, a squad car was parked outside. 

Police? 

Caleb rushed back to the speaker. "Erm, hello, officer. Yeah, I'll buzz you up right now. Just give me a minute, I have to get dressed."

"Sure, take your time."

Mind whirling, Caleb buzzed the officer in. He then darted into the bedroom, threw on some boxers, pajama pants, and, after giving it a quick whiff, a crumpled grey shirt from off the floor. Seconds later there was a knock on the door. Still pulling his shirt on, Caleb called out to let officer Johnson know he was coming. Moments later he opened the door. 

"Hello officer," Caleb greeted. 

"May I come in?" 

Caleb side stepped and allowed entry. The radio on the officers shoulder went off, and he looked sheepish. "Sorry about that, I'll turn it down."

"Of course." Nervously Caleb headed towards the kitchen. "Uh, can I get you anything? Water? Are you hungry?" 

Officer Johnson chuckled. "No, I'm fine. Thank you though."

"Oh."

"Mind if I sit?" 

"Er, no, not at all."

The policeman took a seat in an armchair, so Caleb slipped into the couch facing him. 

"Do you own the bar downstairs?" 

Caleb's chest started to thud against his ribs. "Yes." He then chuckled nervously. "Er, I guess I'm just used to offering people drinks, you know?" 

The officer continued to smile. "I could see that. Habit and everything."

"Yeah." Caleb twiddled his thumbs. 

"What time do you open up at?" 

"Oh. Uh, usually I'm open now."

"At three PM?" 

Caleb ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Uh, yeah. Business has slouched so I try to be open as much as I can."

The officer glanced at Caleb's rumpled shirt. "What happened today?" 

"Oh, uh. I was asleep."

"Asleep?" 

"Yeah," Caleb muttered. "Sorry. I've been working myself ragged and I just needed to get some shut eye."

The officer nodded. 

"Er, if you don't mind me asking, why are you here, exactly?" 

The officer smiled, and Caleb noticed the sympathy. "You lost your husband recently, right?" 

Caleb slightly panicked. Was this a real police officer, or did he have something to do with the black cars? "How did you know that?" 

The officer dropped the facade. "Look, I'll be straight with you. Someone called us and asked us to check in on you and make sure you're fine." 

Caleb's apprehension swiftly turned into anger. 

Paul. "Oh?" 

"You don't usually sleep this late, do you?" 

Seriously? This is a wellness check?! Come on! "No, I don't. Like I said, I haven't taken a day off since my husband passed."

"Well look. I know everything must be hard for you."

Yeah, because you fuckers closed Liam's case WAY before it should have been. 

"How about you don't just take today off. How about you take an extended weekend. You know, start fresh on Monday. Meet up with some friends, go to a baseball game." The officer shrugged. "I d'no."

Caleb narrowed his eyes. "Are you going to pay my rent?" 

The cop said nothing. 

Caleb sighed and held up his hands. "I'm sorry, that was out of line. I'm just—tired." 

The officer got to his feet and nodded. "So, you're good?" 

"Yeah," Caleb said, trying not to sound sad, "I'm good."

The officer moved to the door. Instead of leaving, he hesitated. Hand on the doorknob, he turned back to Caleb. "Look; I wasn't going to ask you this because you just seem sad, which is understandable given everything, but, are you sure you're okay? No, uh, violent or irrational thoughts?" 

You mean besides wanting to bring my dead husband back to the living and have it consume my life? "Nope!" 

The officer nodded. He then reached into his vest and pulled out a business card. Handing it to Caleb, he moved to the door. "Here's my car with my desk extension. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call, alright?" 

"Sure. Thank you for your time, officer Johnson." 

"Have a good day." 

"You as well."

Caleb moved back to the window, peeking out once more. He watched the cop get in his car. After a few moments, the car kicked to life and drove away. Only when it disappeared out of sight did  Caleb deflate. Dropping the officers card right where he stood, he turned around and went back to bed.