Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Barrett
Deputy Mark is on my property again, behaving just as uselessly as he did the last time.
It takes ten minutes to explain to him my constitutional right to not have my house searched without a warrant.
“I don’t think you understand. This is a murder investigation.”
“Then, if I’m a suspect, please place me under arrest. Take me in for questioning.”
Through gritted teeth, he answers, “You know my sergeant already cleared you.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“We’re looking for another suspect. Someone was making threats against The Prophet, and we think there might be a connection between?—”
The man catches himself and then stops.
Now, where have I heard that word recently?
“The what? The Prophet?” I ask.
He fixes his dumb face and tries again. “We’re looking for someone who was making threats against a nearby church leader who is on sabbatical. We think there may be a connection between the shooting and those other threats.”
I bite my tongue so hard I might bleed. Goldie told me everything. And now I think this guy might belong to the same church she ran away from.
“Who’s we? And what does that have to do with me?”
“The department has an interest in all of the citizens of our county,” he says, sounding too much like a politician. “Especially our respected clergy.”
Clergy, my ass.
“Respected clergy. Don’t know of such a creature,” I say, having moved on to pretending to pick dirt out from under my nails with my pocketknife. So bored with this conversation.
And yet, he persists.
“Be that as it may. There were reports of a disgruntled member of his flock. She disappeared yesterday after making threats, and we understand she also has a connection to the dead man. She was spotted in this area. So we just want to talk to her.”
That’s quite the spin.
I shrug. “By whom?”
“That’s confidential.”
Sure, sure. “Give me a description of this supposed cold-blooded killer. If I see her next time I go to town, I’ll call it in.”
“We have reason to believe she might be here.” He points down at the soil, indicating my property.
“Look, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the term ‘mountain man’? I literally live here, so I don’t have to talk to people. Let alone entertain unhinged active shooters. So unless you have a warrant, you do not have permission to search the premises.”
Deputy Mark gives a sidelong glance into the woods and then changes his whole attitude.
“Well, the investigation is ongoing. We’ll be in touch.” He tips his hat and then gets his ass back in the cruiser and leaves.
That was a weird, abrupt shift in energy.
I shove my pocketknife back into my pocket and throw back the remains of my coffee. That Mark is one weird dude.
Back inside the cabin, I call out for Goldie. I don’t see her anywhere, so I refill my coffee cup. I want to continue the conversation we were having.
She doesn’t answer.
I tromp to the bedroom, once again stepping around the busted door propped up against the wall, but she’s not there.
That’s when I notice her pack is missing.
Shit.
I bolt into the main room, where I finally notice, like the dummy I am, that her boots are gone, too.
“Son of a bitch.”
I bolt out the back door and call out for her.
“Goldie!”
The word echoes off the mountain, mocking me.
The sun is still low in the sky, and it’s not quite bright enough to see deep into the woods.
Below me, there are tracks in the mud.
She’s left.
I shouted at her to hide in the house, and now she’s gone.
I don’t know why. I don’t know what got into her head. But something spooked her, and now she’s gone.
I holler at the top of my lungs.
No answer.
Following her tracks into the woods, they disappear into the underbrush.
At first, I think she must be hiding because she’s truly on the run. Maybe she is the killer.
My brain only allows me to entertain that thought for half a second. I immediately dismiss that because I know this woman. I know Goldie.
She didn’t kill anybody.
She’s just running scared.
And I’m the one who told her to go into the house.
I knew I shouldn’t have let her out of sight for a moment.