18. Noah
Chapter eighteen
Noah
S he is going to be pissed. I should have told her right away. But she practically jumped me. I am only a man, and it isn’t like the guy is going anywhere. I hesitate, looking out the window. Dark clouds are starting to blot out the sun. We are not getting out of here today.
“Noah, what is going on?” she asks again.
“When I was checking out the snowmobile, I found something in the shed.”
“What did you find?”
“A body,” I reply. “I think it’s your friend, Eric.”
The blood drains from her face. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Pretty sure. I haven’t met the man, but who else would be out here?”
She collapses onto the edge of the couch, my mind reeling. “How did he die?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “But it looks like he might have been beaten up pretty good and possibly shot in the chest. I didn’t do an inspection. ”
“I need to see him,” she says. “Maybe it isn’t him. Maybe it’s some poor traveler that got stuck out here.”
“He was covered with a tarp,” I tell her, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“Please, I have to know for sure.”
I nod, understanding her disbelief. She isn’t going to believe the danger if she doesn’t see the body. “Okay.”
We make our way to the small, rickety shed behind the cabin. I pull open the door, stepping back to allow her entrance. She walks in with apprehension evident in her wide-eyed gaze and drawn face.
“Ready?” I ask.
She nods. I pull back the tarp, revealing the body.
A gasp escapes her lips as she recognizes the man lying cold and still beneath it. “Oh God,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes. “It is him.”
She reaches out tentatively, fingers brushing against the pale, lifeless skin of his face. Her breath hitches as she takes in his bruised flesh and blood-stained shirt. “Who could do this?” she sobs.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “But we have to be careful. ”
“He’s out there,” she says, her voice trembling. “It has to be him.”
“Who?” I ask, pulling the tarp over the body. “Who did this?”
“My ex,” she says, her eyes darting around the shed. “He was always jealous of Eric. We actually came out to this cabin together a couple of years ago.”
I curse under my breath. This changes everything. “So he knows the place. And he’s got a grudge.”
She nods, hugging herself tightly. “We’re sitting ducks here.”
“Let’s get back inside.”
I feel like we’re being watched even now. I thought it might be Vincent and his guys, but now she seems to know what’s really happening. I need to find out more. The prospect of spending another night here with a potential killer on the loose sends a shiver down my spine. I look at Mia, trying to gauge her strength. She’s tough, but even the toughest have their breaking points.
Once inside, I lock the door and resume my attempt to get a fire going .
“I did this,” she whispers. “Poor Eric. I can’t believe I did this to him. He was innocent. He didn’t know.”
I blow on the embers, getting the flame going before I turn around to face her. She’s not crying, but it’s clear she’s in shock. I have a feeling that once it wears off, she will be in rough shape.
“Why do you think your ex is involved?” I ask.
She looks at me, her eyes filled with pain. “He murdered the young woman staying in my house while I was on location.”
It is my turn to be shocked. “What?”
“I rented my place to a woman named Dawn for the month while I was on location,” she starts to talk, but it feels like she’s narrating a story instead of being a part of it. “I got home, and there was this horrific smell. I thought it was rotting food. And then I found her in my bed.”
I get up from the floor and sit beside her on the couch. My arm wraps around her, pulling her close to me. I need to make her feel safe.
“I know it was him,” she repeats.
“Why do you think it was him?” I ask .
She takes a deep breath. “Carter is my ex-boyfriend. We were together for a year. I thought we were going to get married. I loved him. But I started to notice things. At first, I thought it was sweet that he always wanted to travel with me. His jealousy was cute and made me feel special at first. We came out here to meet Eric, and it was all fine, but when we got home, Carter was furious. He accused me of flirting with Eric, a man twice my age. I broke up with him shortly after that, but he refused to accept that I didn’t want to be with him. He showed up at my house at all hours of the night. I changed my phone number and avoided him as much as possible.”
“Holy shit, Mia! Did you go to the police?”
She sighs and nods. “Several times. But he never actually did anything. He always had an excuse for why we happened to run into each other. The cops did talk to him, but it didn’t help.”
“He killed the woman in your home?”
“ I know he did, but I have no proof.”
I take a deep breath. “When was this?”
“Nine days ago. After the police told me I was free to go, I drove north. I paid cash to stay in cheap motels. Eric and I had this trip planned for a couple of months.”
“Did Carter know that?”
She looks thoughtful. “I don’t know. It was on my calendar.”
Neither of us says anything. I make my own conclusion. Then I see the moment she realizes what must have happened. Her eyes widened. “He got into my Google calendar! I was supposed to have returned home a couple of days earlier, but I missed my flight. He thought it was me because I was supposed to be home!”
I nod. “It’s plausible.”
“If he has my calendar, he knew I was coming here. He was so jealous of Eric.” She covers her face with her hands. “This is a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry.” I hug her closer, doing my best to comfort her.
She jerks and pulls away. “He’s here! Where is he? He could be watching us right now! We have to get out of here.”
“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“To the plane? ”
“I think we might be better off going toward town. We’re about twenty miles from civilization. If we start early, we can make it by nightfall. It’ll be hard, but we’ll rest up and leave at dawn. I’m afraid if we go back to the plane, it still might not run. Then we’ll be making another trek here and getting nowhere. Going toward town gives us a better chance to find someone to help.”
She looks at me, her eyes searching. “But what if he comes back tonight?”
“I don’t like it either,” I admit. “But traveling at night is suicide. We are better off sticking it out here and leaving at first light.”
Mia nods slowly, though I can see the doubt in her eyes. I need to keep her talking—keep her mind occupied. “Tell me more about your work,” I say, hoping to distract her.
She shakes her head, a faint smile touching her lips. “No, you first. Who are you, really? What do you do?”
I hesitate, not wanting to go down this road. “I fly,” I say simply. “That’s it. ”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I can read humans as well as animals, Noah. You’re running from something.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I got into some trouble a few months ago. Now, I just want to keep my head down and work. I don’t bother anyone, and they don’t bother me.”
She leans forward, her gaze intense. “What kind of trouble?”
I shake my head. “Drop it, Mia. It’s not important.”
“But it is,” she insists. “We’re stuck here together, and if there’s something I need to know—”
“There isn’t,” I snap, more harshly than intended. I see the hurt flash in her eyes and immediately regret it. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just...it’s complicated.”
She nods, biting her lip. “Alright. I’ll drop it.”
We sit silently for a few minutes, and I can’t shake the feeling of being watched or of danger lurking just outside the door. I need to do something, anything, to feel more in control.
I put another log on the fire, telling myself to enjoy the warmth because tomorrow morning, we’re going to be freezing our asses off .
“I’ll heat up some more of that stew,” Mia says and gets to her feet. “We need to eat and keep our strength up. Tomorrow is going to be difficult.”
“I think you’re right,” I reply. “I’m going to bring in more wood.”
“No! You can’t go outside.”
“I’d like to take a look around, Mia. If there is someone out there, it’s better we know. I don’t want to get caught off guard.”
She’s not happy, but I plan to look for any signs that her ex might be lurking. I put on my coat and step toward the cabin door. Mia reaches out and grabs my arm, her fingers digging into me. “Just...be careful,” she pleads.
“I will be,” I assure her. I step outside, breathing in the frosty air. It’s quiet out here—eerily so. The snow crunches under my boots as I make my way to the woodpile, picking up the axe as I go. Once at the woodpile, I gather more logs for the fire. But all the while, my senses are on alert for any abnormal noise or movement within the surrounding forest. A rustle in the brush catches my attention, and I freeze, listening carefully .
Is it just an animal? Or is it him? The man who might have murdered a woman thinking she was Mia? My grip tightens on the axe handle in anticipation.
Seconds pass, and then a squirrel emerges and races up a tree. I let out a sigh of relief. I haul the wood onto the porch and leave it. With an axe in hand, I make my way around the cabin. The only footprints I see are the ones I know are mine and what I assume are Mia’s. Maybe the dude came in, killed the guy, and got out of Dodge.
I see nothing, which is a good sign. I go back inside, keeping the axe with me. It’s the only weapon I have against what would qualify as a serial killer. Mia looks up from where she’s standing in front of the wood stove.
“Nothing,” I answer her unspoken question.
She nods. “Maybe he thought I canceled when I didn’t show up.”
“Does he know you found the young woman?”
“It was on the news,” she shrugs. “I’m sure he does.”
“Maybe he’s running scared,” I suggest. “He might assume you’ve run away. He might be looking for you back in your hometown. ”
“I know that should make me feel better, but I don’t think it does.”
“Let’s just take this one day at a time. We’ll get through tonight and take a very long walk tomorrow. We’ll call the authorities and go from there.”
She nods and turns her attention back to the pot on the stove, slowly stirring. “I think this is warm.”
We eat in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Each gulp of stew seems to carry the weight of our predicament. Is this really my last meal? That is a disappointment.