E6: The Chatty Professor

INT. ALAN'S BEDROOM

Cally, as seen previously, looks around the room, annoyed.

Frowns, sets her jaw.

SUPER: Investigation, Day 0

Cally looks at her phone and taps at it.

ON THE PHONE SCREEN

A typical sort of streetmap view under the heading "BabyStalker 4".  Two phone icons appear, green and red.  Green is "HERE", and red is "ALAN".

Alan's icon moves north on a major freeway.  A little indicator besides it says "71mph.  Speeding!"

The app changes to a text messager.

ON CALLY

She walks slowly through the house, back to the front door.

INT. ALAN'S LIVING ROOM

CALLY (TEXT)

Where are you headed, Dallas?  Should I catch up?

She waits.

ALAN (TEXT)

You put that tracker on my phone again.

CALLY (TEXT)

Yes.  Not being kidnapped, I assume.  Where to, and why ignore my texts?

ALAN (TEXT)

Will uninstall that.

Cally smirks.

CALLY (TEXT)

If you do that at any point, I'll tell your family that you're in trouble.

She gathers up her purse.

ALAN (TEXT)

Not in trouble.  Much.

(beat)

Safe right now.

(beat)

Leave it be.

Cally scowls.

CALLY (TEXT)

Fill me in, and I know to leave it be.

Cally leaves the apartment.

EXT. OUTSIDE ALAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

She walks out, locks the door, goes down steps toward her Red Mini.  Gets in.

ALAN (TEXT)

Miss, I am your employer.

CALLY (TEXT)

Which makes your future ability to sign my paychecks a priority to me.

ALAN (TEXT)

Keeping your ability to forge my signature safe.

CALLY (TEXT)

Does this have to do that "Alberts" man who came in today?

ALAN (TEXT)

Stay away from him.  TROUBLE.  Can't talk.  Will talk tomorrow.

She frowns, thinking.

ON THE PHONE SCREEN

We see the app switch to a photo gallery.  We see the front of a white Volvo, license number clearly visible.

INT. MARLON GRIMALDI'S OFFICE - DAY

A small professor's office, lacking prestige, but full of dangerously heavily-laden bookshelves.  It would be a cozy place to look into things or talk one-on-one with students, if not for the further stacks of books in not-quite-out-of-the-way places.  The window beside the desk looks out onto grass stretching to the next brick building.

MARLON GRIMALDI, the Volvo Driver, picks at steaming food in a plastic container.  He wears different slacks and shirt with the unchanging sports jacket.

SUPER: Investigation, Day 1

CALLY

(O/S)

Professor Grim-Aldy?

Grimaldi sights and looks toward the door.

GRIMALDI

(resignedly)

Grih-MALDY, Grih-MALDY.

Cally steps in. Today she wears a more genuinely demure black dress with the fishnets and boots, balancing on the edge of standing out and being easily forgotten.  She rests one hand on her purse.

CALLY

Sorry, it's just that you introduced yourself as "Mr. Alberts".

Grimaldi stares at her.

Cally smiles, a repetition of her encouraging smile from before.

Grimaldi pales.  After hesitating, he starts to reach under his sports jacket.

Cally grabs her REVOLVER out of her purse and puts the barrel to Grimaldi's temple.

CALLY

(firmly)

Don't move.

Grimaldi freezes.  She reaches under his jacket.

CALLY

"Alberts".  Many people, when choosing an alias, tend to use a variation of a given name for a surname.  It's a dead giveaway.

She draws out a GLOCK from Grimaldi's jacket, holding it with two fingers.

CALLY

(disgusted)

You don't have a proper holster, and you're carrying a Glock, of all things.  I'm probably protecting you by taking this.

(shakes head)

Is this even your gun?

GRIMALDI

(frightened)

I...have friends.

Cally drops the Glock in her purse.

CALLY

I do, too.  One's Alan Churchgrim.  But who are yours?

GRIMALDI

(quickly)

He's not what you think he is!

CALLY

Do tell.

GRIMALDI

(quickly)

He's a degenerate abhuman thing living sub rosa in our society!

CALLY

Ah, so you're a racist.  I knew this was a conservative campus, but...

GRIMALDI

What?  I-I don't mean he's black, I mean he's a different species, a nocturnal thing that preys on human flesh!

CALLY

(pokes him with revolver)

Again, you're a racist.

(beat)

I mean, he's more human than I am.  He's a taxpayer, an upstanding...ish...citizen who likes very, very high steaks, and he's no more prone to violence than random asshole professors.

Grimaldi stares at Cally, eyes wide.

GRIMALDI

Than...you are?

Cally pulls back the revolver's hammer with an authoritative CLICK.

CALLY

(annoyed)

Start answering questions before I put this school in the nightly news.

Grimaldi whimpers.

EXT. OUTSIDE GAS STATION SOMEWHERE ON A PRAIRIE

SUPER: Investigation, Day 20

It's flat.  You might think coastal Texas is flat, but it at least has hills.  It's pancake-flat and treeless up in this part of the Panhandle.

The beige SUV sits at the pumps, and Alan Churchgrim stares tiredly at the spinning numbers on one.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.  He looks, pulls it out.

CALLY (TEXT)

You haven't looked into any of those names I sent you.  Do I have to go to Dallas myself?

ALAN (TEXT)

Didn't tell you to go after them.  I stay AWAY from people who try to shoot me.  You should, too.

CALLY (TEXT)

That doesn't work when they know where you live.  And all of them have been amendable to reason.  Or to threats.

INT. UNIVERSITY LIBRARY STACKS

Cally holds RED-HEADED LIBRARIAN (male, 40-50) in grey business casual at gunpoint, while holding up an odd, vice grip-like device holding open a loop of an elastic band.

CALLY

You see, they take the young male they want to make a steer of and—

She releases the device, and with alarming force, the thing CLACKS open, and the elastic band drindles to a terrifyingly small ring.

The librarian makes a full-body, leg-crossing cringe.

EXT. OUTSIDE GAS STATION SOMEWHERE ON A PRAIRIE

ALAN (TEXT

IOW, to threats.

CALLY (TEXT)

So, you're not investigating this.  I wonder, does this have anything to do with that psycho jailbait runaway with the daddy issues?

Alan sighs.  Looks toward the gas station's restroom door.

ALAN (TEXT)

1, you're going all crazy Parker the Hunter on these people, psycho.

(beat)

2, if it did, have to protect her confidentiality.  She's still underage, pretty sure.

CALLY (TEXT)

She tried to kill you.

ALAN (TEXT)

Only the once. Fine after she smelled my blood.

Alan deletes "Fine after she smelled my blood.", sends the first sentence.

TRAILER comes out of the restroom, dressed as seen before.  Her face is cleaner, though, and the hoodie looks cleaner and damp.


Alan looks at her.

ALAN

Well, look who got all dolled up.

Trailer glances at him, gets into the SUV's driver seat.

EXT. OUTSIDE USED BOOKSTORE

Typical example of such a place, packed with books and fronted with glass panes.  Inside, an elderly, white-haired SHOPKEEPER greets Alan and Trailer.

Alan starts to talk, but Trailer cuts him off.  Clearly takes the lead in the conversation, smiling and clasping her hands excitedly as she talks to the Shopkeeper, who smiles and nods to her before going back behind her counter.

Alan looks increasingly bewildered as Trailer and the Shopkeeper just keep talking as the Shopkeeper finds and hands Trailer a book.  Trailer flips through the book and seems to chatter excitedly, delighting the Shopkeeper.

Alan tears his eyes from this disorienting scene and looks out toward the road.

We see one of the many electronic signs the Texas Department of Transportation has scattered around major freeways.  It flashes messages to traffic, reasonably enough.

ON THE SIGN

"REPORTED MISSING THURSDAY LUBBOCK"

In a moment, it's replaced with

"LAST SEEN BEIGE CHEVY, LIC. LVE-YU44"

ON ALAN

Alan looks away, to the front of the store.

We see the license plate of his SUV, LVE-YU44.

His phone buzzes.  He takes a look.

CALLY (TEXT)

You are in an Amber Alert.

(beat)

Not my fault.

ALAN (TEXT)

Going dark.  Don't tell my family.

EXT. SWEET BLESSED REST FUNERAL HOME - NIGHT

It's a typical rural/exurb funeral home for the region, a low, white building with a large, currently near-empty parking lot in front of and behind it.  Generic-Christian stained glass windows in places.  CASSIUS GLASS, a heavyset, white-haired, white-bearded black man, 55-65, stands in front of the door like a palace guard.  Wears a light grey suit, nearly-tied burgundy tie.

Cally's Red Mini pulls up fast on the wet pavement, but parks neatly.  She gets out and trots through the light rain to Cassius at the entrance.

CALLY

(smiling)

Good to see you, Uncle Cassius.

Cassius brightens, but not quite to a smile.

CASSIUS

Good to see you, little mermaid.

He pulls open the door for her, as if he's done it a thousand times.  He has.

INT. FUNERAL HOME HALLWAY

Also typical, aside from the lack of mourners or guestbook set out.  Cassius takes a moment to lock a good three latches.  Turns back, gestures off to the left.

CASSIUS

Everyone who could make it is in the West family room.  Have you eaten?

CALLY

(hesitant, tries to hide that)

No...

CASSIUS

(smiles tolerantly)

My wife made a pork roast.

(beat)

Don't worry, that's what you're smelling.  The Churchgrims and the Stewards are having theirs blue.

INT. WEST FAMILY ROOM

Like a glorified office break room, with coffee and similar for the bereaved needing a recharge.  At least a dozen figures are pressed in here, sittng or standing while holding paper plates and trying to eat while talking.  All are tense or pretending not to be to reassure each other.  Not all are human.

A few, all black or slightly lighter-skinned human men, are dressed in suits that match Cassius'.  Others wear business casual or just plain casual; whatever they were wearing.  These others vary in skin color from light brown to pinkly Caucasian to ashen gray and gray-blue.  The lighter in skin people are, the thinner and gaunter they are.  The last two shades bring various degrees of literal ghoulishness.  For a few, the gaunt turns to skeletal, with hard, almost armor-like faces and disturbingly lively, liquid eyes.  Two, the gray-blue ones, can't wear more than sweat-pants and hoodies, thanks to their hunched posture, clawed feet, and prominent snouts.

Everyone starts trying to ask questions at once as Cally and Cassius step inside.

CASSIUS

Simmer down, everyone!

(beat)

Simmer down!

(beat, as they settle down)

Now, those of you who don't know Cally, she's not family, but she's friend.  I've known her almost as long as my favorite nephew has.  She's one of the Beaumont Barbeaus.

He nods to Cally.  She turns on that smile for a moment, then sobers.

CALLY

Thank you.

(beat)

I beg all your pardons in advance, because some of this is a bit...involved.  I've had to work out what were red herrings and what actually mattered.  Two conspiracies, for lack of a better word, have crossed paths.  One is human, one is my people, and both are reacting very poorly to encountering each other and discovering each others'...

(beat)

Misdeeds.

(sighs)

And some people, including Alan, are getting pulled right into the middle of it.