Page 58 of Guess Again

Lake Morikawa, Wisconsin Thursday, July 31, 2025

THE LONG SUMMER DAY WAS COMING TO AN END BY THE TIME SHE reached Lake Morikawa.

The horizon glowed with a cherry dusk.

Clouds hung over the lake, their undersides burning with a blood-red tone.

She couldn’t help but think it was appropriate for what was about to happen.

She drove around the north side of the lake and started her way down the east edge.

She found the driveway belonging to Hugh and Ruth Winchester and pulled in.

A rest stop thirty minutes earlier assured that her legs were fresh after the long drive.

The couple was elderly, but she still needed to be nimble.

She was taking nothing for granted this late in the game. Mistakes needed to be avoided at all costs.

Stepping out of the car, she checked her purse for the knife.

The closest neighbor was a long way off, but she couldn’t risk using her Sig Sauer for fear that the shots would be heard.

The knife would be messier and more work, but safer in the long run.

She walked to the front door and rang the bell.

A moment later, Ruth Winchester answered.

“May I help you?”

the elderly woman asked.

“Yes.

My name is Eugenia Morgan, and I’m hopelessly lost.

I’m trying to find my way into town, but my navigation system isn’t working, and, for the life of me, I can’t make my way out of this area.”

“Oh,”

Ruth said with a nod, “it can be confusing.

And cellular service, or satellite signals, whatever makes those maps work, is always spotty around these parts.

Let me get my husband.

He’ll be able to explain the route into town.”

“Thank you.

And sorry to intrude.

It’s getting dark and I just knew I’d have no chance once night came.”

“Wait just a sec, hon.

I’ll grab Hugh.”

She waited on the front porch as the woman retreated into the home, then reached into her purse and removed the knife.

She held it down at her side.

After a minute, Hugh Winchester came to the door.

The man was old and feeble, the decades bending his spine into a hunched posture.

He pushed open the screen door.

“What can I help you with?”

He’d barely gotten the words out before she lifted the knife and dragged it across the left side of his neck.

The sheer volume of blood that poured over the man’s shoulder and down his chest told her she’d severed his carotid artery.

Hugh Winchester offered a confused expression before he grabbed his neck, recognized the blood, and collapsed.

She wasted no time stepping over his body and entering the home.

She found the wife standing at the kitchen sink.

She walked up behind her and repeated the process.

Two minutes after she arrived, the Winchesters were bleeding out.

Hugh in the front hallway; Ruth on the kitchen floor.

The faucet was still running.

She dipped the knife under the stream before returning it to her purse.

Then she drank a glass of water and started the cleanup.

An hour later, the hallway to the garage was streaked with blood and the bodies were stacked in the subzero freezer.

She made sure the front door was closed, and then climbed back into her car for another long drive. This time she was headed to the Mexico border.