Chapter 6
SIX
Somewhere on the AT
He gathered more crow feathers on the trail and stayed in the thick of the woods, his boat parked safely in the thicket of overgrown trees and brush downriver from Midnight Ridge.
A murder of crows flitted through the trees and he gripped his rifle, antsy and wanting to see how many he could take out. Pow. Pow. Pow.
Yet he knew that ranger had found Minnie’s body and the police were already present, combing the woods in search of him.
All because of the old homeless man. A problem that had to be rectified. That old buzzard might be able to identify him. He tucked the rifle in his hunting backpack, where he also carried his ammunition and scabbards along with his bag to store feathers in.
As he hiked through the forests, he collected them, his childhood memories taunting him. The woods had been his for the taking.
Now, the thrill of the kill lingered, running hot through his blood. The moment he’d let Minnie live the first time had been a mistake. Stupid girl couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
At least she hadn’t gone to the police.
He’d been relieved when she’d run away from home and figured the problem was solved. That she’d never survive on the streets.
But she had somehow.
When he’d seen her a couple of weeks ago in the distance, he’d realized it was just a matter of time before she turned on him.
He’d known then she had to die.