Chapter 12 #2
I sink onto the couch, Shadow plopping onto my feet.
Karen pulls out a notepad and takes the armchair across from me.
The professional lines on her weathered face do little to hide her concern.
At sixty-something, with silver threading through her dark hair, Karen has been Aspen Ridge’s sheriff for as long as I can remember.
She was friends with my grandfather before he died and used to stop by for coffee and to complain about the tourists.
Her familiar presence should comfort me. Instead, I feel exposed.
“Walk me through it again. From the beginning.”
I rake my fingers through my hair. I’ve done it so many times, it must resemble Maren’s, sticking up in every direction. My reflection in the window shows someone I barely recognize—unhinged and fraying at the edges.
“I came downstairs around six. Shadow was acting strange, staring out the window. I went to see what he was looking at, and…” I swallow. “And there it was. I called 911 immediately.”
Karen nods, jotting something down. “You didn’t hear anything during the night? No cars, no voices, nothing that woke you?”
I think back to the figure I swore I saw standing in the trees before bed.
The way the moonlight seemed to glint off what looked like a metal mask.
But how do I tell her about that without sounding insane?
How do I explain the feeling of being watched, of eyes tracking my every movement from the forest’s edge for the past week, without her thinking I’ve finally cracked under the pressure of living alone in the middle of nowhere?
“No. Just the usual noises. The wild animals. The wind.”
Why am I hiding this?
Karen gestures to the body outside. “You’ve never seen this person before?”
“I have no idea who it is. I haven’t seen the face at all. The plastic—“
“Right.” Karen sighs. “Look, Luna, I have to ask, has anyone been giving you trouble lately? Disgruntled former employees or volunteers? Hunters or owners pissed off about you being… you?” Her voice softens on the last word. “Anyone who might have a grudge?”
I shake my head. “No one specific. I mean, you know how some of the locals feel about me and what I do here, especially my reporting of animal abuse when I witness or hear about it. But no one’s made any direct threats or anything like that. Not lately anyway.”
“What about your ex?” Karen asks, as if reading my mind. She was the one who helped me file the restraining order against Caleb last year. “When’s the last time you had contact with him?”
“Over a year ago. Why would you—“
“Just covering all the bases. Domestic situations have a way of escalating, sometimes years after the fact.”
“It’s not Caleb.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, doubt creeps in. Is it? Could it be?
Deputy Wilkenson appears in the doorway, his young face grim. “Sheriff? We’ve got a problem with those wildlife cameras.”
Karen turns, her expression sharpening. “What kind of problem?”
“They’ve been wiped. All of them. Memory cards are blank.”
A chill runs down my spine as Karen’s eyes narrow. “All three of Luna’s cameras? That’s not a coincidence.”
“I checked them two days ago.” My voice sounds far away and disconnected. “They were working fine then. I downloaded footage of a family of skunks playing near the north fence line.”
Karen turns back to me, her expression hardening. “Someone planned this, Luna. Someone who knew about your cameras and how to erase them.” She turns back to Deputy Wilkenson. “Have them brushed for fingerprints.”
Maren chooses that moment to emerge from the kitchen. “The pussies are treated, and hanging in the enclosed porch.” Her steps falter. “What’s happened now? Did they find another body? Please tell me there’s not a whole fucking cemetery buried under your driveway.”
“Someone erased my wildlife footage.” My mind reels from the knowledge that someone tampered with my cameras.
“Well, that’s not disturbing at all.” Her attempt at sarcasm falls flat. She moves to sit beside me on the sofa, her thigh pressed against my leg. Her hand finds mine, squeezing until my bones ache in the best possible way. “What kind of sick fuck would do something like this?”
“The kind who leaves a dead body on my porch.”
Karen stands, slipping her notepad back into her pocket. “Luna, you need to think about getting a proper security system. Not wildlife cameras. You need more coverage for the whole property, not just areas where the foxes and raccoons like to sneak in.”
I nod. Maren has been saying it for a while.
“I’m going to have a deputy drive by regularly for the next week. And I want you to be careful. Lock your doors, all of them, every time you go in or out. Call if anything seems off.”
A voice calls to her from somewhere outside. “I need to go. The ME is here. We’ll talk more after they’ve examined the evidence.”
After she leaves, Maren turns to me and hisses, “Why didn’t you tell her about feeling watched?”
“Because I think I’m being paranoid.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
“But what if you’re not? What if this is connected?” She pauses, studying my profile. “What if this is Caleb?”
“Why would Caleb come back now? He hasn’t tried to contact me for a year.”
“Because he’s a creep who hit you.”
“I don’t think it’s him. I think it’s my imagination going wild.”
Why am I not telling her about last night?
“Well, your imagination didn’t conjure up that corpse outside. If it keeps happening, you need to report it. If you don’t, I will. You know I’ll make it sound way more dramatic than it is. I’ll probably tell her you’ve been having wet dreams about mysterious stalkers or some shit.”
My mouth twitches. Leave it to Maren to work sex into a conversation about murder. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m worried about you.” She bumps my shoulder with hers, a concerned frown creasing her forehead.
I lean over and plant a kiss on her cheek. Shadow, not to be left out, stands up and licks her other cheek with his enormous tongue.
“Ugh, gross.” Maren makes exaggerated wiping motions across her face, but she’s smiling. “There’s nothing better than getting sloppy kisses from my favorite weirdos. But they won’t stop me from ratting your ass out.”
She wraps her arms around Shadow’s neck, and we fall into silence, watching through the window as men in white suits gather around the porch, preparing to process the scene.
“Who do you think it is?”
I swallow hard, my throat tight with a mix of fear and confusion over why this is happening to me.
“I don’t know. And I’m not sure I want to.”