Chapter 28 #2
“The whole thing is so strange. I keep trying to imagine Edwin Morris the painter as a murderer. It’s hard to fathom. He was so soft-spoken. I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Sometimes serial killers seem totally normal to the people around them.”
“Did you ever see him and his wife together? Did she seem afraid of him?”
“Not that I can remember. She was at the picnic on the last day of class, and they seemed… I don’t know, like a normal couple, I guess. Not very affectionate, but she didn’t seem afraid of him or anything.”
Max paused to sniff the trunk of a tree. We waited while he peed on it, then started walking again. The trail turned and rose in an incline. Both dogs wanted to race up the hill, but we kept them to a reasonable pace.
“Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you.” She grabbed my arm in her excitement, and I felt a zap of electricity at her touch. “Yesterday after school, I saw Ashley and Jeremy in the parking lot together. I think they might have been about to kiss.”
“Are you serious?”
“Well… Okay, I don’t know if they were going to kiss or not. Derek was out there, and he yelled something across the parking lot at them. Probably just telling them to have a nice weekend or whatever.”
“Freaking Derek.”
“I know, right?” She laughed. “I guess two teachers walking to their cars at the same time after work isn’t really news. But for a second, I thought I was about to get proof they’re together.”
“That would have been a breakthrough.”
“I just have this feeling about them. I swear they’re secretly dating.”
I nodded. I thought so, too.
The question of whether Ashley and Jeremy were dating brought another question to my mind. What about Penelope? Was she going to start over? Put herself out there and start dating again?
Why did I hate that idea so much? Just the thought of Penelope dating made me want to punch him in the face. And he wasn’t even a real person, just a theoretical date.
Because seriously, fuck that guy.
The trail evened out again and veered right, passing through a thicket of trees. Something caught Max’s attention and he stopped to sniff the trunks. Maggie joined him.
I listened, catching the sound of moving water as it carried through the air. “The creek.”
Pen gave the leash a gentle tug. “Max, Maggie, let’s go!”
The sound of the creek grew as we hurried through the trees.
Finally, the trail emerged into a clearing.
The creek flowed from higher up the hill, cascading down over smooth rocks, and the gray outcropping loomed just ahead.
Deciduous trees blazed with fall color and the red and brown leaves swirled in the trickling water.
Pen got out her phone and brought up a photo of Morris’s painting. “What do you think?”
“This has to be the place.” I pointed to the rock formation. “Look, that angle right there. It’s exactly the same.”
“I agree. He definitely painted this spot.”
“The question is, what else did he do here?”
Max tugged on the leash, trying to get closer to the water. Penelope moved ahead, taking slow steps while Maggie sniffed the ground.
“If someone were going to dispose of a body, I don’t think they’d do it near the water,” she said. “Too much chance that erosion would uncover it.”
“Yeah, agreed.” I followed Pen, nudging Max a little so he’d stay with me. “Probably off the trail, too. Even if he came out here at night, he wouldn’t want hikers to find it later.”
The dogs kept sniffing as we walked off trail. I scanned the ground, looking for areas where Morris could have dug a hole and covered it up again. There were enough leaves and pine needles that concealing the burial spot wouldn’t have been difficult.
Suddenly, Max started digging. Pen and I stopped and looked at each other, wide-eyed.
Was he going to find something?
“Good boy, Max,” Penelope said.
Maggie stopped and watched her doggy brother, her head tilted to one side, as if she were curious. Max was a dog on a mission. He dug furiously, tossing dirt behind him until he had a sizable hole in the ground.
“What’s in there, Max?” I asked.
He stopped and shoved his nose into the dirt. I had a sudden vision of him emerging with a human tibia in his mouth. I glanced at Pen. By the way her brow furrowed, I was pretty sure she was thinking the same thing.
Max jerked his head out of the dirt with something in his mouth, and his tail wagged fast, like he was quite pleased with himself.
“What did he find?” Pen asked.
It was a little smaller than a football, and so covered in dirt, I couldn’t make out any details.
“Max, sit,” I said, and he did.
I crouched in front of him and winced. Whatever he had, it was gross. Bits of something dangled off it, looking like rotten flesh hanging from a zombie’s body. The scent of decomposition was strong.
I’d channeled my brother Garrett enough to think of bringing gloves. I slipped them on and held out my hands.
“Drop it, Max.”
He didn’t move.
“Drop it. Be a good boy.”
Still nothing.
“Max, drop it,” I said.
Finally, he opened his mouth and let the…whatever it was…fall into my open hands.
Penelope clamped her hands over her mouth. Max’s tail beat against the ground, rustling through the leaves and pine needles, while Maggie idly sniffed around the spot where he’d dug.
The sickly sweet scent of rotting meat filled my nose. I poked at the thing and brushed some of the dirt off, trying to figure out what it was.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I said, pinching it with two fingers so I could lift it. “It’s a rotisserie chicken. Or what’s left of one.”
Penelope crouched down to look closer. “Oh my gosh, you’re right.”
“It’s just what’s left of someone’s picnic.” I stood and tossed it deeper into the woods so Max wouldn’t get it.
“Should we keep looking?” Pen asked as she straightened.
“Yeah. Buried hiker garbage doesn’t mean there’s not something else out here.”
We let the dogs sniff around for a while, but neither of them found anything worth digging up. Max wanted to keep circling back to his hole, but I didn’t want to know what other half-rotted food he’d find there, so I guided him away.
After combing the area for a while, we decided to pack it in. We hiked back to my truck and gave the dogs some water and treats. Then we loaded up and took them back to Josiah and Audrey’s house.
“That was harder than I thought it would be,” Penelope said when we were back in my truck. “I guess I figured we’d be able to tell exactly where to look. Which doesn’t make sense, when I think about it. If he really did hide a body, he would have done his best to make sure it wasn’t easy to find.”
“I thought the dogs would find more than a rotting chicken,” I said with a chuckle. “But I guess cute rescues aren’t quite the same as trained cadaver dogs.”
“Do you think there might be something out there and we just don’t know where to look?”
“Maybe. I keep going back and forth on telling Garrett. I might as well, but I doubt he’ll be able to do anything. It’s a pretty loose theory we have.” I backed out of the driveway and started up the street. “I’ll tell you one thing, though.”
“What?”
“I’m not opposed to going back. And I’m going to keep looking for that cabin.”
“You’re not giving up?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Good. Me neither.”
She shivered, and I glanced at her. “Still cold?”
“I should have worn more layers. It’s like my bones are cold.”
I turned up the heat and angled the vent to blow the warm air toward her. “Let’s get you home.”
She smiled and, not for the first time, I had a feeling I was in trouble.