Page 42 of Making It Up

It’s now eight-thirty on Friday night and I’m done for the weekend. I didn’t make any plans because I kept thinking that Mia would text and I…

I sigh. I wanted to be available to show up whenever and wherever.

Fuck. Am I already twisted up over this woman?

Apparently. Because I’ve been waiting around all fucking week for her call or text. And now I’m wondering if I’ll cause any heart attacks if I call my brothers and ask them if they want to get together because sitting at home wondering what Mia is doing seems pathetic.

I can at least call Jack. He won’t have plans that I don’t know about, and if nothing else, I can head over there and hang with him and the kids.

My phone rings just as I get into my truck.

It’s my work phone, not my personal though. I frown and answer. “This is David.”

“Hey, David, it’s Jake Turner.”

“Hey, Jake, what’s up?” Jake is in his fifties and a regular outdoorsman. Jake, his brothers, and sons all own land around Sapphire Falls and I run into them periodically when they’re fishing and hunting in the area.

“My mom just called and said that she saw someone spotlighting out in her north field where we have that big deer stand.”

I frown. “Spotlighting? Is she sure?”

“She was coming back from town. I’m not exactly sure what she saw but she certainly knows spotlighting. I’m in Lincoln for another hour and one of my sons offered to go out, but I figured I might as well just call you. Can you go check it out?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’ll take care of it. Tell your mom not to worry.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

We disconnect and I start my truck, heading in the direction of Judy Turner’s property.

Not only is spotlighting deer illegal, but it’s not even deer season. Whoever is out there messing around is in trouble for a number of reasons. I’m glad Judy didn’t try to handle it. God knows what’s going on out there. I certainly don’t want the sweet widowed seventy-something woman out in her backfield dealing with someone who is possibly armed.

I make the short drive and pull off into the field. I know exactly where the deer stand is. I’ve never hunted out here, but Jake and his brothers were proud of the stand after they built it themselves from scratch and showed it off to anyone who wanted to see it. It’s humongous. Ten-by-ten, fully insulated, with a great view of a rolling field of wild grass and flowers to one side, the river on the other.

I’ve never needed a deer stand this big, but they’ve definitely brought in some impressive animals from here.

I see the stand and a pickup as I bump along over the uneven ground, but no spotlights. I don’t see any people either and as I pull in behind the pickup, I frown. I know this truck. This is my brother Charlie’s truck.

What the hell is going on?

I shut off my truck and get out.

“Charlie?” I call.

Not only does Charlie definitely know hunting seasons, and that spotlighting is illegal and unsportsmanlike, Charlie is not much of a hunter anyway. There’s no way he’s out here spotlighting deer.

I turn a three-sixty, not hearing anything. “Charlie?” I call again.

The truck is parked near the hunting blind, so I decided to check it out. I climb the wooden steps and push the door open.

What I see inside is absolutely dead last on my list of things I expected.

Mia Hansen is lying on the floor of the deer blind.

She’s on her back with her knees bent. Her head is toward me, making it impossible for her to see me in the doorway behind her.

It would also make it impossible for her to see a serial killer with a chainsaw in the doorway behind her.