8. Chapter 8
Erik
I hide a yawn behind my hand. It took years of consensually being woken by aunt Molly with figurative and literal buckets of ice to become an early riser, however I will never be this much of an early riser.
Thick ground fog hides grass covered in morning dew.
The sun isn’t even close to rising yet, soft waves licking at the lake shore.
Rick ordered me and what must be twenty guys with detectors to Kylie’s house.
Now he’s standing in her driveway, lit cigarette in his mouth and exudes the friendliness of a rabid bear.
“You’re not going to find anything the dogs didn’t find,” I tell him, shaking my head.
“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” he harrumphs and throws his cigarette butt on the ground, twisting it under the heel of his shoe before he walks off.
Seriously? I lean down, pick it up with a leaf and throw it into Kylie’s bin which is literally two steps away. What a dick.
Rick watches me with a smirk and sips on a paper cup of gas station coffee. There’s no more steam rising from the hole in the lid, and knowing his coffee is cold is enough to fill me with glee. Especially as I take a sip from my thermos cup and almost burn my tongue.
“You grab those ten guys and start from here. I want every inch of the property searched.”
“Sure.” I wave them over and I could swear relief washes over their face once they learn they’ll work with me and not Rick. His reputation sure precedes him.
Thankfully, the company that built all four lakeside mansions was able to provide paperwork of thorough ground checks they did before construction. I wouldn’t put it past Rick to tear up the basements for the off chance of finding more bones there.
“I want you to move in pairs. One searches the backyard, shore, driveway, and four of you scan the space between this property and the neighboring house. Do rock paper scissors for who goes where for all I care.”
“Got it boss.” One of them even does a mock salute, then they actually break into a rock-paper-scissor tournament to decide, backs facing Rick so he won’t see. Two minutes later, they’re off.
There’s not much I can do but stand somewhere I’m not in the way and drink my coffee. Again and again, I find myself glancing back at the hole in Kylie’s backyard and the heap of uncovered earth besides it.
Will I get a call one day when someone finds Lilith’s bones in a grave similar to this? Unmarked and not nearly deep enough to stay undiscovered? Buried so shallow, any animal able to dig can uncover her and carry her bones all over?
My heart pounds more violently with every possibility. After all these years of searching for her, I know how unlikely it is to find her alive.
“Hey! Quit daydreaming!” Ricks booming voice tears me out of my thoughts. I lift my hand in apology and defiantly take a sip of my coffee.
What exactly does he expect me to do? Breathe down their necks while they do their jobs? I don’t think so.
So I wander around Kylie’s property aimlessly, pretending to find interesting things on the ground.
Like this rock. Or that one. Oh, hey, and a heart-shaped one.
The ground squishes under my shoes as I walk the ten steps from my car to my porch. Maybe it’s the muddy ground. Maybe it’s my wet socks.
One hour into the search, it started pouring buckets. It didn’t affect the detectors, so we didn’t have to stop. Now I'm wet to my bones, freezing, and annoyed as hell.
I knew they wouldn't find anything. And even though he’ll never admit it, Rick knew it too. It didn't stop him from having the poor detector handlers search every centimeter of that lakeshore, though.
I pull my front door open and stop in the doorframe. It's quiet. Of course it is. What did I expect? For Kylie to hang around?
A part of me might have hoped she would.
Then again it would have made undressing in my hallway awkward. I toe out of my shoes, take off my pants, hang my jacket on a hook to my right, then add my shirt to the wet fabric pile on the ground. They can wait here. But I can’t wait for a damn shower.
By the time I get out, my skin is red from the warm water. Drying my hair with a towel, I trudge down my hallway to retrieve the pile of wet clothes when I see my phone blink with a voicemail. I let it play while I pick them up and find a rag to clean the puddle they left.
"Hey Erik, it's Cho.”
He’s a friend of mine from the police academy.
While my ambition was always more to serve my community, his was to climb the career ladder to solve high-profile cases and make a name for himself.
Two years ago, I ran into him again. We caught up over one or several drinks and the story of my sister’s disappearance slipped out.
The next day he called me and asked for more details that could help identify her, with the promise to keep an eye on unidentified bodies, missing person cases and his data bank for me.
So far, he called me twice. We both know it’s a long shot, but I’m running out of options. Could this be it?
"We've got a hit on someone with the same birthday and general features. Please drop by when you have a minute to take a look. This seems like a promising one, mate. Fingers crossed it’s her."
Taking a deep breath, I place my hands on the dresser and let drops from my hair drip onto the wood.
I don't want to get my hopes up again, only to have them shattered. However if I lose hope, then who will keep searching for her?
My stomach rumbles. I have two choices: make myself a sad little omelet with the one egg I still have in my fridge, or throw on some dry clothes and get some lunch at Caleb's.
The choice is easy.
So I throw the pile of wet clothes into my bathroom, get dressed, grab a different jacket, and rush right back outside.
"Hey, Logan," I answer his call right as I pull out of my driveway.
"Hi Erik." He sounds way too chipper for a person dealing with death all the time. In his case, examining dead people. Or bones, like the ones we found. I’ve never had to talk to him on a professional level—after all this is the closest I ever got to dealing with a dead person case. However, his mom used to be in aunt Molly’s art class, so we know each other in passing.
"I thought I'd call you with a little update. "
"Shouldn't you call Rick with those? He’s the leading investigator." Raindrops hit my windshield as I navigate the gravelly road through the forest.
"I mean, I could, but he's an idiot.” I bite the inside of my cheek to refrain from laughing. “I'd rather talk to you first. Don't worry, I'll call him right after. With the info I have I’m fairly sure he’ll deem the case too boring and push it onto you anyway."
"Appreciate it, man. What do you have for me?" I stop at the sign, then turn onto the paved road leading to Wayward Hollow’s town center.
"You guys were right. The bones are of a female, and they're old." There's some rustling on his end of the line. “And I’d estimate she was about twenty-five to thirty-five when she died.”
"Thanks, that’s good to know. How old are we talking?"
"I don't have an exact number yet, but I sent some samples out for testing.
I should have a more accurate number for you in the coming days.
Now, my own estimation based on similar skeletons I've worked with...
" He whistles through his teeth. "I'd say fifty years to a hundred and fifty years.
So, no recent serial killer you need to catch. "
"Well, that's a relief."
Thank God. I wouldn't have wanted the responsibility of catching a serial killer.
I turn into the street to Wayward Hollow's main square.
School is out, and groups of kids are skipping down the walkway.
Once they see me, they stop and wave, jumping with excitement.
Instead of waving back I do one better and turn on the lights, earning at least twenty awed stares at my police car as I drive past them.
"And I'm sure you're not mad about not having to work with Mr. Sourass either." Right. Logan is still on the line.
"Hell no.” The mere thought sends a shiver down my spine. “When did you add mind reading to your résumé?" I chuckle and slow down, trying to find a parking space.
The joy of driving a police car is, I could stop wherever I want to. Who's going to cite me if I park right in front of Caleb's and pop in for a minute or two to get a coffee and a pastry?
But alas, I have to lead by example. Especially with twenty curious children still watching the car.
"Any signs for cause of death yet?"
"None that I can see." He clears his throat. "And trust me, I've tried. From what I can tell, I'd say it was a natural death. But you know how it goes. It could have been an injury in the soft tissue."
I nod and take a deep breath. It might not be my job yet, but I agree with his estimation. Rick is after the interesting cases. The kind to make his resume pop. This will not be one of them.
"Any chance of scraping DNA?"
His silence tells me all I need to know.
"Okay. Thank you, Logan. Could you do me a solid and send me a clear picture of the skull from the front and profile? I’d love for some people to check it out for reconstruction."
"Sure, give me one second and I’ll send them to your email.” More rustling, then my phone buzzes with his e-mail. “There you go. That's all I have for you for now. Erik, have a good one."
"You too."
I pull into a parking space in front of the flower shop. The rain has stopped, and I make it to Caleb's with only a few stray raindrops hitting my head.
"The man of the hour." Henry greets me with a huge smile. He’s against the counter, his dog, Jensen Ackles, snuggled up by his feet.
"When did I get that title?" I ask and lean down to say hi to his dog.
"Here or to go?” Caleb asks. He knew my order by heart from the second time I said it out loud.
"To go, please. You're the man." I'm taking a little trip to see Cho and find out if he found my sister. If Rick actually pushes the investigation on me, I’ll probably be too busy for a while.
I run my hands through Jensen’s soft fur. This is best part of my day so far.
"Where's the rest of your gang?" Right then I hear several people bursting into laughter, and my gaze slips past Henry.
There she is, at a table in the corner, together with Nic, Lauren, and Kieran.
What a view, those four.
When the lakeside mansions got built, the town wasn't too happy.
Nobody could picture what kind of people would move into them.
It could have been some rich folks who only used them as a vacation home.
It could have been assholes who think because they have money, the entire town should be at their beck and call.
But those four, at least Kieran, Nic, and Lauren, fit into Wayward Hollow better than puzzle pieces. They made friends with everyone within weeks of moving here. When Nic’s ex and her sister tried to humiliate her at the autumn fair last year, the entire town came to her defense.
Where they welcomed Nic, Lauren and Kieran with open arms, they kept their distance from Nic’s sister and her ex. Whenever possible they reported them to me, for example when the ex trashed the hotel room.
Even though they could hole up in their extremely spacious and luxurious homes, they regularly pop into Amanda's antique store to help out. They also throw their all into Wayward Hollow’s seasonal events, like the autumn fair and Christmas market.
"I'll be right back," I mumble and get up to make my way over to their table.
I doubt Rick has called them yet to let them know they can return home, so I'm taking the liberty.
"Hey, guys."
"Erik!" Kieran shouts excitedly, and all their heads turn to me. Two dogs are resting by their feet and I know Caleb’s dog Shadow is somewhere behind the counter.
"What's the tea?" Lauren jumps right into it, lips stretching into a devious smirk. "More bodies? Were our houses built on a graveyard? Is Kieran going to jail for murder?"
“Hey! Why would I be a murderer?”
“Remember how angry you got when an off-leash dog charged at Dick? Straight up murderer energy.” Lauren winks at him and he steals a piece of pastry off her plate in retaliation.
“I hate that you’re right.”
"I've got a ghost cat already. I think I would have noticed more ghosts," Nic mumbles and shakes her head.
Kylie's eyes widen and she turns pale. "Oh my God, a ghost would explain so much!
" All heads turn to her, including mine. For a moment, our eyes meet. Her cheeks turn the most adorable shade of pink and she quickly averts her eyes. It makes warmth pool in my chest and I bite the inside of my cheek to fight a smile. She’s so pretty when she blushes.
"What do you mean?" Kieran leans over the table, intrigued.
"You know, at my place doors kept slamming closed, cupboards opening randomly... Oh God.” Kylie buries her face in her hands. "Of course, I had to go and get myself a haunted house."
"Hey, at least you're not the only one." Nic puts her hand on Kylie's shoulder and gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Welcome to the club.”
“So, are we in the club too and too oblivious to notice we’re living with ghosts?” Lauren asks with wide eyes.
"No graveyard," I assure them with a chuckle. "They didn't find any other bodies or bones. So you guys are good to return to your homes now."
"That's great news." Lauren's eyes dart to Kylie and a mischievous grin tugs at her lips. "Can we hang out at your place? I've always wanted to interact with a human ghost." She glances at Nic with an apologetic smile. "No offense, but a ghost cat is just not the same."
"None taken." Nic takes a sip of her coffee, clearly hiding her grin.
"So, how's my girl Svetty? Do we know what her real name is already?" Kieran leans back in his seat and rubs the back of his neck. It takes me a moment to remember Svetty is what he named the skeleton.
"Even if I did, I'm not sure I could tell you," I point out, earning a collective groan and eye-roll.
"You're no fun." Lauren pouts, and takes a sip of her coffee.
I shrug. "I'm a sheriff basically only in name in a small town that hasn't seen a crime in what must be seventy years. What on earth makes you think I'm chasing the thrill?"
"Point taken," she mumbles and lets out a sigh.
"Anyway, good seeing you all. Have a good day. I'm going to grab my lunch and get out of your hair." I lift my hand in a quick wave and return to the counter, hearing mumbled goodbyes. My lunch is already waiting on the counter and I grab it with a thankful nod towards Caleb.
Maybe the buttery marzipan goodness can distract me from all the hope bubbling up inside me on my way to Cho.