Page 17

CHAPTER 17

REDLEY

A fist bangs on my front door, ripping me out of my much-needed sleep. I was dreaming about the night Granny died again, which has been added to the rotation of nightmares along with the night my parents and brother died. All this sorrow is like a tidal wave, and it takes my body a while to catch up with reality.

Granny’s been dead for years, and I’m as safe as I want to be. If the Wolf is here, well, he can’t kill her twice, and for whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to want to kill me. For the moment, no one is dying while I lie useless in this bed, but still, it’s hard to convince my heart to stop pounding.

Another knock.

“Hold your horses,” I shout.

I climb out of bed and open the curtain. Bright, clear stars shine outside the window, but without the moon in sight, I’m not sure how late it is. I light an oil lamp and check my great-granddaddy’s pocket watch. Six thirty . I rub my eyes and decide not to be too hostile to whoever is here. It’s barely past suppertime, and I’m sure it’s just one of my neighbors needing help again. Maybe even returning one of my chickens. They have a tendency to break out of the fence I built.

Despite how crazy everyone thinks I am, I’m also one of the most knowledgeable people out here, and plenty of them need to pick my crazy brain. Still, I grab my knife from my bag and prepare for a fight before opening the front door.

A greeting waits on my lips as I twist the knob, but it falls when I see who’s here. Not Bobby looking to have an affair or the city slicker who bought old Mrs. Reed's house when she passed. Instead, I find a wide-brimmed hat, a shining badge, and a smile that oozes confidence—the cop I spoke to just a few hours ago.

“Surprised to see me?” he asks as he tips his hat.

I really am, and that stops me from saying anything at all. My narrowed eyes size him up, trying my best to judge why he’s here. I’m sure not making him dinner on such short notice. It’s far less likely, but could he actually want to help?

“I’m not cooking for you tonight.”

“I know,” he says. “I thought about what you said earlier. Can I come in?”

I consider his request, taking one more moment to think about whether or not he’s here to rape and kill me.

“Why are you here, Porter? Really.” I lean against the doorway. I might be happy and shocked to see him out here, but that doesn’t mean I trust him.

“You said you have proof. I want to see it for myself.” His words and tone are innocent enough, but I still don’t buy it.

I cock my head to the side. “Swear to God?”

He clears his throat and looks up before he answers. “If you have proof, I want to see it. I swear to God. We can always have dinner another night.”

Well, that was loaded.

“Come in.” I shrug, stepping out of the way and waving a hand for him to enter. I slide the knife onto a small table, acting as if I wasn’t prepared to use it on him if need be.

He takes one step inside and then looks around the room, his light eyebrows smashing together like something about four walls confuses him. A single oil lamp serves as the light, but it casts a bright glow, and there’s plenty to see by.

“You don’t have electricity?” he asks as he looks around at my things.

“A little bit, not enough to waste.”

He takes a few more steps but leaves the door open behind him. It’s cold at night, and he’s wasting my heat, but he’s also inviting in the animals.

“If you’re coming in, shut that behind you,” I tell him. “You want something to drink? I’ve got a beer if you want. It’s warm, though.”

The door closes softly. “I’m fine, thanks.” He takes a few large steps around the room, looking at the things on the walls. “Who runs lines out here?”

I shoot him a sharp look. “You still talking about the damn power?”

“Just curious.”

“I’m not sure. A bill comes every so often, and I pay it. Like I said, I don't use it much.” I grab myself his beer. Maybe it’s old paranoia, but I don’t want him asking about moonshine.

He nods, but he’s still thinking.

His uniform is too neat and clean, out of place in this beat-up old cabin stained with Granny’s blood. Tan pants, dark brown shirt, a sleek new hat with a wide brim and a shiny badge in the middle. He’s handsome. He’s a cop. He's got nothing to worry about other than a crazy girl from a make-believe town telling him stories about children dying.

“Can we sit down?” he asks.

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

I wave to the table for him to take a seat and place the beer down, but when I do, he finally notices what I’ve wanted him to see all along. He makes a comical expression, and I try hard not to laugh. Most people would’ve tried harder to remove the stains. I don’t think that’s fair, though, given Granny never got justice, and maybe I’m just not quite right.

Porter looks down at his feet, realizing he’s standing on it too. His knees kick up, doing a couple of real high steps like a show pony. His mouth opens and closes like he’s a trout. I almost laugh, but I manage not to since I really don’t need to offend the only lawman who’s made it out here.

“Not used to blood, Officer?” I ask.

He clears his throat and puts his foot back down. “Deputy,” he corrects me about his rank, but not the fact that he’s not used to blood.

Out in these tiny mountain towns, people usually die only a couple of ways. Not many as nasty as having your throat slit. I take a seat at the table and push out the other chair for him, and since it’s off my granny’s bloodstain, he accepts.

“How long ago did this happen?” he asks.

“Four years.”

He lifts a brow like he can’t quite believe I’m telling the truth, but the evidence is very obvious in front of us. My granny’s entire lifeblood is stained into the floor of this cabin. There’s no denying someone died here unless he thinks I slaughtered a pig or something. Maybe he does think that low of me. It wouldn’t surprise me, given that law enforcement has never taken me seriously. It would actually be more strange if he showed up here purely out of the goodness of his heart.

“Why hasn’t someone done something?” he asks, more mistrust slipping into his tone as he stares at the blood like he’ll be having his own nightmares tonight.

“Like you told me earlier today, Deputy. Grimm Groves is outside your jurisdiction and everyone else's.”