Chapter 3
Erik
“Erik!” Jodie shouts from the front desk. Not sure why, after all this station is so tiny, I’d hear her whisper.
When I got her call about a supposed skeleton found at the lake shore, I was out helping Michael, one of the farmers near Wayward Hollow, herd some cows off a street and back into their enclosure.
Henry also got a call to check them over upon return, and I was more than glad for more manpower, because those beasts are stubborn.
Thankfully, most of them were already back by the time she called me in.
“What is it?” I pop my head around the doorframe, then lean down to change my shoes and socks, because I had a rather unfortunate encounter with a puddle and am not looking to catch a cold. There’s a reason I keep spares of everything in my office.
“Kieran called with more information.” She clears her throat and I hear her type something on her decades-old keyboard. “According to him, what they found is most definitely a human skeleton.”
I stop, shoelaces wrapped around my fingers and slowly turn my head to her. She’s a small woman who has worked the police office’s front desk longer than I have been alive, usually sporting a knitted cardigan and half updo, much like today.
When she first called me in, it was clear she didn’t believe Kieran. But there’s an undertone of doubt in her voice now, a seriousness I’ve never heard from her before.
Quickly, I tie my shoes and get up. The floorboards creak as I take the two steps to the reception counter she’s sitting behind and lean against it. “How is he so sure?”
“He said there was also a dress and a very human-looking skull.” Her fingers fly over the keyboard once more.
What the hell? When she called me, I expected this to become a rather routine ‘we found deer bones’ call. I’d go there, check it out, tell the hikers who found them all is good and get home in time for dinner.
For some reason, I doubt this will be resolved in time for dinner.
I stare at the area map, hanging on the wall behind Jodie. It might be almost a century old and lost most of its color, but I can still see the basics and not much has changed since then. It takes me less than a minute to find the lake.
Let’s say someone buried a murder victim there. Why?
The lake used to be a prime hang out spot for Wayward Hollow’s and surrounding cities’ teenagers until someone decided to build four mansions there. It’s pretty far off the highway and before they paved driveways for the mansions, there was no way to get anywhere near the shore by car.
“Give me a minute,” I mumble and return to my office. The computer takes forever to boot. Usually, I’d start the filtered coffee machine I bought when I first started here. Lack of funding one way or another, but no way am I starting work without coffee.
This time, I wait, staring at the screen and will it to work faster. As fast as this computer from the last century will let me, I check the data base for any missing persons reports remotely tied to Wayward Hollow or its surrounding cities or towns. Then open murder cases tied to our area.
Both come up with no results.
“Okay, I’ll make my way out there,” I declare and get back up, groaning when pain shoots through my shoulder. One of the cows bumped it while running past us. By tomorrow it will probably turn all kinds of nasty colors. “I guess that means you can call in the professionals. Please and thank you.”
I grab my keys and walk back into her tiny reception area.
She glances up at me from her always chaotic yet highly organized desk behind the counter.
Her long gray hair is in a loose bun that would look casual if there was even a single hair out of place.
Her way-too-small glasses are perched at the tip of her nose, and she crosses her baby-blue-knitted-cardigan-clad arms in front of her chest.
“Are you sure?” She gives me a pointed look and taps her freshly manicured nails on her wooden desk. And I know they are, because she told her best friend on the phone yesterday when, as so often, we had a slow day. “I mean, it’s that Kieran guy.”
I arch my eyebrows and stop, slowly tilting my head to her. “Meaning what?”
“It’s just...” She stammers and waves her hand through the air. “All those tattoos and—”
“Jodie.” I turn around and put my crossed arms on her counter.
“Kieran’s got a smart head on his shoulders.
He might be what your generation calls frivolous or dubious or whatever.
” Her face darkens. “But why the hell would he lie about finding human bones?” Honestly, I find it just crazy enough to be true.
“Call in the pro’s. Evidence collection, forensic identification, recovery team. ”
“I wouldn’t even know who to call.” Her eyes widen, as if she’s actually offended by having to work for once, even with two more hours on the clock.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” I tap my hand against the countertop, hoping I won’t lodge another splinter into my palm. “It will take a few hours until they’re here, so I’ll drive out, if they’ll even make it today. I’m off to check out what exactly we’re dealing with.”
“Okay.” She shrugs, clearly not believing anything out of place is actually going on.
“Call them,” I reiterate. I love Jodie, she’s a sweetheart, but as so many people of her generation, she tends to have a hard time taking me seriously. She rolls her eyes, but picks up the phone and her fingers fly over the keyboard again.
I don’t know Kieran super well. He has lived in Wayward Hollow for what must be a year and a half by now, but our paths don’t really cross aside from Caleb's, the one and only place to get great coffee in Wayward Hollow.
If you can even call it ‘path crossing.’ He gets his coffee, I get mine, and sometimes we exchange small pleasantries. And I get to pet his dog. That is about the extent of it.
From our limited interactions, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d prank-call a police station for shits and giggles. And I pride myself on my intuition about people.
I’m about to turn into Kieran’s driveway when I remember Jodie mentioning, they didn’t find the bones on his property, but his neighbor’s.
Fascinating. When did the fourth property at the lake even get sold? And the even bigger question, how did that not make it into the town gossip? With a bored Jodie at the front desk, I’m usually very aware of Wayward Hollow news and gossip.
As soon as I jump out of the car, I hear Kieran’s voice. “Over here!”
I acknowledge him with a nod, but before I walk over to him, I grab a backpack with a bunch of probably outdated tools out of my truck. Two figures hover beside the mansion, one of them Kieran, the other must be the new owner.
It’s a beautiful house with more of a luxurious cabin vibe.
The exterior walls I can see have a wooden log design, though I suspect much like the other houses, it will have a glass front facing the lake.
Out of the four houses, it’s the most regular looking.
Nic’s, Lauren’s and Kieran’s houses definitely wear the ‘mansion’ tag with pride.
This one too, it merely pretends to be affordable.
But most of Wayward Hollow, and that includes me, have seen the price tag.
I wonder what kind of person moved into it. By the time I have my bag, the second figure disappeared around the building and only Kieran is left to greet me.
“Hey, man.” I greet Kieran and shake his outstretched hand, subtly shrugging off his other hand he put on my shoulder.
“Erik! I’ve never been happier to see your face.” He grins, not at all deterred by it.
“Can’t imagine why,” I say dryly and let him lead me around the house. The wind is picking up and sends wet leaves flying all over the ground.
The second figure comes into sight and my breath catches in my throat.
“Erik, this is Kylie, finder of the corpse,” Kieran explains, and I hear him as if through a wall of cotton.
She’s the new owner? I mean she has to be; I haven’t seen her in Wayward Hollow before.
She looks around mine and Kieran’s age. Chocolate-brown hair falls down her shoulders, a round face framed by bangs and she’s drowning in an oversized beige sweatshirt under an open jacket that looks way too flimsy for this time of the year.
“She just moved in.” Kieran’s voice pulls me back to reality.
“Good to meet you,” I say quickly, feeling his amused stare burning into my temple and extend my hand. “I’m Erik Madden.” The most striking blue eyes meet mine and push the air out of my lungs.
Damn. She’s gorgeous.
“Likewise,” she mumbles and blushes as she shakes my hand. It suits her. Her hand is soft and small in mine, but her grip is firm.
“And this is Svetlana.” Kieran makes a grand gesture to our left. Hesitantly, I let go of her hand, catching her staring at it from the corner of my eyes.
“Svetlana?” I arch my eyebrow at him and take a step towards where he pointed.
“Well, calling it ‘the skeleton’ seems kind of rude.” He shrugs. “So I decided to give her a name. She’s Svetty the Skelly. Doesn’t it have a nice ring to it?” I give him a dry stare and cross my arms in front of my chest. “I’ll call her by her real name once we find out what that is.”
I glance at the hole in the ground. My stomach churns and I fight to keep my face neutral.
Kieran was right.
Hidden under a bunch of dry leaves, what must be barely two feet underground, the collar of a dress peeks through the dirt.
A flash of dirty white is right under it, possibly a collarbone, the skull mostly covered by dirt but absolutely there.
Another hole in the grass, maybe a meter away reveals what’s probably a femur.
“How… did you find this?” I glance at Kylie over my shoulder, then slowly turn until I face her. Talking to her is good. Talking to her means I don’t need to look at it.
It’s the first time in the decade I’ve worked as Wayward Hollow’s sheriff, I’ve been anywhere close to a dead person. Aside from kicking a bunch of partying teens off the cemetery.
She turns even redder, now fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt. Getting to watch her is definitely an added bonus to facing this way.
“I didn’t,” she stammers and points at her dog.
Oh. I hadn’t even noticed it. A beautiful, brown Australian Shepherd, its leash tied around one of the trees, right next to Kieran’s golden retriever.
“I was letting her out, you know, so she could get to know her new backyard. Next thing I know she runs at me with a bone in her mouth.”
“This one?” I nod at the longer bone pointing halfway out of the hole, looking anywhere but the bone itself.
“Yes.” She nods.
“Okay.” I get up, glance at the sky and roll my shoulders. Let’s do this. “I need you two to take a few steps back. I’ll secure the area.” Pulling up the sleeve of my jacket, I check my watch. “I’ll check in with Jodie, she called in the forensics team. They might be a few hours.”
“And then?” Her voice almost disappears and her eyes dart around nervously.
“I’m afraid we’ll find out at the same time. It’s not every day that bones turn up in Wayward Hollow, so I’m only familiar with the procedure in theory.”
She runs a hand over her face and lets out a deep sigh. Kieran gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Of course,” she mumbles under her breath. “What does a girl need to do to catch a fucking break?”
I pretend not to hear it as I lean down to grab my backpack and pull out the crime scene tape. It’s the first time I’ve ever gotten to use it. I should mark it in my calendar.
And as tragic as all of this is, it’s been a while since I felt this useful.