Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
It means everything, I send back quickly. I’m off work in a few minutes. How soon can you meet me?
There’s a pause as she types.
Talia: I need to wrap up a few things with Grandpa, but I can be at your place in an hour.
Bring your camping gear, I reply.
Talia: We’re going out again?
I’ll explain when you get here.
Looks like we’ll be having dinner on the go tonight.
She just sends back a quick heart emoji and a face making the OK symbol.
I glance up, looking around the street one more time to make sure it’s clear and I’m good to leave my post. The time it takes me to walk back to the station, drop off a quick report, and clock out early—with Grant watching me the entire time—feels like a goddamned year.
Soon, I’m in my patrol car, heading home.
My head spins fucking faster than the tires.
I can smell what’s coming. Something big.
And leave it to Talia to deliver the goods. Getting her involved was the right move, after all.
She’s done plenty, though. It’s high time to let her step back, before she winds up endangered.
Bringing her along with me tonight?
Whatever.
That’s only because—if I have to admit it—I want her company.
I’m home, changed, and almost done packing my own gear for a one-night hike when my doorbell rings.
There’s a little déjà vu when I answer and find her there in a cute flannel shirt and jeans again. This time, it’s faded pink and black plaid. Her backpack looks smaller and sensible. She’s a quick learner, and she smiles so bright it’s blinding.
“Hey.” She leans up to kiss my cheek. “Ready to go?”
I’m not used to people being happy to see me.
I frown.
Something’s off.
I reach down to brush back a strand of fiery-red hair that slipped free from her messy knot.
“You’re upset.”
“I dunno.” Talia’s eyes flicker as she glances away. “Upset, that’s a pretty strong word—”
“What happened?”
“I…” She sighs, glancing away. “How about I’ll tell you while we walk?”
That worries me.
I nod, though, whistling for Rolf and reaching for his leash.
“Let me get my stuff and we’ll head out.”
I’ll tell you while we walk turns into I’ll keep changing the subject.
I can’t begrudge her when she’s still the same slice of strawberry shortcake she’s always been. The way she lights up as we make our way through the trees is alluring as hell.
I don’t have the heart to kill her enjoyment.
Not when this seems new for her, an outing she practically revels in, darting between plants, startling squirrels, and sometimes Rolf, too.
By the time they end up falling together in a pile of fallen leaves, Rolf’s tongue hanging out happily, I’ve given up on getting anything out of her until we settle in for the evening.
If we settle in at all.
This is a scouting job.
I’m familiar with the Jacobins’ usual patterns, but now I wonder if they’d do something new to shake off any extra scrutiny after Newcomb’s body was found.
Makes me wonder why they didn’t just dispose of it. Then again, they can’t risk feeding their victims to the pigs anymore. That’s old hat.
Guess they decided it was best to just let it look like a clumsy out-of-towner had a terrible accident on the cliffs.
I lead Talia down a spiraling path through the hills surrounding town. I can’t always explain what I’m looking for when I start trying to sniff the Jacobins out.
It’s not like they leave any markers or trash in the trees when they’re so careful.
It’s just a feeling I get.
A scent.
As we head northeast of the big hill where the Arrendell mansion looms, ice crawls down my spine.
Call it a premonition.
Someone’s been through here recently.
Could’ve been hikers, yeah, but I don’t think so.
They don’t wear farm boots, and farm boots leave a certain imprint when they bend and break the grass.
While Talia skips on ahead to look up at a giant cobweb stretched between several tall trees, I bend down and study the broken grass clumped together.
Rolf crouches next to me, cocking his head like he sees something significant.
From the hint of yellowing on the blades, I’d say this happened last night.
Lifting my head, I scan around slowly until I find what I’m looking for.
A few leaves, torn free from a low-hanging branch about shoulder height. A perfectly good height for a grown man to fit.
Someone shoved their way through while the branches and twigs caught on their clothes and then snapped back with some ripped foliage. Half-torn bits still cling to the stem while the rest fluttered to the ground.
That way.
I slip two fingers between my lips and whistle.
“Talia, through here.” I toss my head toward the small opening in the trees.
Breathless, flushed, and lovely with her blue eyes sky-bright, she comes bounding over. Every step makes her chest sway and strain against the pink plaid.
“You found something?”