47. Marcus
FORTY-SEVEN
MARCUS
“Nice use of the gospel back there, Marcus. I didn’t know you were a man of the Word.”
“Well, I guess we both have things we haven’t shared with one another, right?”
“I guess so.” Aareth addressed Marcus’ back. The two had doubled back when they lost the tracks of the elusive creature.
Marcus lost the animal’s paw prints when the forest’s soft earth changed to hard-packed dirt and rocky terrain.
It was the middle of the night and Marcus was nowhere near ready to give up, but he knew they would have a hard go of picking up the creature again.
It was dark in the forest, and with no sun for hours to come, their chances were looking bleaker by the moment.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, what’s on your mind?” Marcus slowed his pace so Aareth could walk next to him.
“I was wondering how you do it.”
“How I do what?”
“How you manage to always make the right decision?”
“Oh, I think you’re giving me too much credit, Aareth.” Marcus brushed a rogue strand of brown hair from his forehead.
“No I’m not. And you’re doing it again,” Aareth answered, wearing a worried expression.
“Doing what again?” Marcus asked.
“You’re being modest. Which would be the right thing to do when someone gives you a compliment.”
“There’s something on your mind, Inspector. What is it?”
“I used to be like you, Marcus. I used to be a good, upstanding citizen of the Crown. When my wife was murdered, a switch flipped. I’ve—I’ve done things now that I can never take back. Do you think there’s hope of being the man I once was? The man you are now?”
“There’s always hope, Aareth.” Marcus took his eyes from the surrounding to give Aareth his full attention.
“I lost my wife when Jack was just a baby. I can still hear the lullabies she used to sing for Jack. It’s not easy.
I won’t lie to you. It’s a battle that you have to choose to fight every day.
It’s a battle that if you choose not to fight, you’ve already lost. We all have our own burdens to bear in this life.
Some of us choose not to bear our burden, so it weighs us down, eventually crushing us. ”
Marcus paused for his words to sink in.
“I already know my burdens are alcohol and violence.” Aareth was nodding along as the words resonated with his own life.
“Knowing that is a big step in the right direction, Aareth. There are multiple interpretations of ourselves in all of us, fighting for dominance. The question is which version of yourself are you going to choose to be? Decisions we make every day take us further down paths that lead to who we are and who we will become.”
“I think you missed your calling in life. You should have been a preacher. I can think of at least one town that would be better off with you at the pulpit.” Aareth let out a huge breath.
Marcus knew Aareth was done with the conversation. He needed time to think, but Marcus could read people like he could read tracks. He understood there was plenty of good still left in Aareth. It would be up to the inspector if he let the light shine through the cracks.
“Sun’s rising,” Aareth remarked, raising his right hand to shield his bright blue eyes.
“We should search a bit further,” Marcus said. “If I know our captain, she won’t head back to town until every last option is explored.”
The two men spent the next few hours scouring the area. But no matter how hard they looked, once the prints from the back of Benjamin Clive’s house had vanished into the forest, they were gone.
Finally content they had done all they physically could, Marcus called a halt and the two men tracked back to Burrow Den.
As they entered the city, people greeted them with cold eyes.
It seemed like the friendly townsfolk who welcomed them with open arms just a few days ago were now replaced with an army of skeptics.
A figure darted through the middle of town and ran up the church stairs. Before Marcus or Aareth could say anything to Elijah Ahab, he retreated into the church, slamming the door behind him.
“Looks like someone was late for confession,” Aareth said under his breath.