Page 19

19

Diem

“ W hat is the meaning of this?” Hugh Abercrombie snapped after the kids entered the building. “I thought I told you to stay away from the school and students.”

Growling, I swiped a hand over my mouth as I tried to keep my cool.

I fucking hated teenagers, and that smug little asshole Loyal had made it very hard to remember my no-punching-people rule. Abercrombie getting in my face was the icing on the cake, and if he triggered me badly enough, we could be in real trouble.

I counted backward from ten and found a moderately level tone. “Are you aware that your creative writing students have taken your fancy-fuck writing club to a whole other level?”

“Gentlemen, unless you have permission from the authorities and these teenager’s guardians, you have no right to be on school property talking to these kids.”

Abercrombie propped his hands on his hips. He’d come outside in a thin dress shirt and cotton trousers. The cold north wind whipped his tie over his shoulder and tangled his wavy hair, blowing it into his eyes. His pebbled nipples showed through the shirt. The man was obviously cold.

Good. Let the fucker be uncomfortable. It would work to my advantage.

“Did you know the teens you’re trying to protect get together to talk about how to create perfect, undetectable murders? They mask this sadistic hobby by claiming they’re writing stories.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and the notion is absurd.”

“Remember that story you were so positive Weston wrote?” I stepped forward, invading the man’s space. “He didn’t write it, but it came from that club. I have a teen who admits it was a project they were working to perfect. If their goal is to write the perfect crime—the perfect murder—then they succeeded. Someone gave it a try, and so far, no one but us suspects it was anything more than an accident.”

“I’m calling the police.” Abercrombie turned to march off, but I kept talking, and the teacher paused after only a few feet.

“Go ahead. We’ve got a teen on life support and a plausible explanation. We’ve got the names of club members. Not only that, but I’m fairly certain we’ve discovered where these teens hold their secret meetings, and it so happens to be a stone’s throw from where Weston went in the water. Might be enough for the police to reopen a case.”

Hugh Abercrombie shifted to face me, eyes narrowed. The wind gusted, and he wrapped his arms around himself as though trying to protect his body from the weather. He shifted his gaze from me to Tallus and back.

“This is utter nonsense. Are you accusing minors of nefarious activities? The police have done a thorough investigation, and they’ve come to a more than reasonable conclusion. Whatever wild theories you’ve concocted, I’m sure the people with real badges would laugh you out of the station. I’m disgusted that you feel the need to upset a grieving family and town. Weston was part of this community. He was friends with the students you’re accusing and will be sorely missed. Now leave before I’m forced to make a phone call. Don’t let me catch you anywhere near them again.”

Abercrombie spun on his heels and hustled inside.

***

A peanut butter cookie was not enough breakfast to sustain Tallus, and I needed to eat if I was going to properly process our next step, so I took us to the same diner we visited the previous day, where we first ran into the teens. With the ice storm behind us, it was quieter, and we took a booth away from the other guests.

Tallus’s appetite never failed to astound me, so when he ordered a breakfast wrap with extra cheese, a side of bacon, toast, and a fruit cup, I didn’t wonder if he’d be able to eat it all. The man could pack away food like someone twice his size, and I suspected it had a lot to do with his compromised budgeting skills that left him without grocery money most weeks. He was notorious for living off crackers and canned soup, so a chance at a decent meal made him ravenous.

Instead of coffee, Tallus ordered fresh squeezed orange juice, but only after I promised him a proper latte later in the day. He didn’t want to waste his second coffee on mediocre diner brew, he explained, and I suspected he knew I would put my foot down at him ingesting a third. He could risk a migraine on his own time, but we had work to do.

I ordered the hungry man breakfast and tomato juice, no extras. No coffee. Once the waitress departed, I announced, “I’m going back to the cabin.”

Tallus groaned. “See, I was afraid you were going to say that. My poor shoes. What about the dog and the man who pointed a rifle at your head? Have we forgotten that debacle?”

“ I will be careful and keep an eye for trouble.”

“His dog will smell us. They can do that. Careful won’t matter, and what are we hoping to find at the cabin anyhow?”

“Tallus, listen carefully. I am going back to the cabin. Alone . Me. Not you.”

He blinked several times behind his come-fuck-me glasses, an unreadable expression monopolizing his gorgeous face.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes, but… I don’t understand.”

“It’s potentially dangerous and… muddy. You hate mud, and you’re not equipped to handle—”

“Fuck that. I am so equipped. Maybe not in the shoes and clothing department, but I’m equipped. We’re partners, Guns. I’m not—”

“You just groaned at the suggestion.”

“That was before I knew you were snubbing me.” He crossed his arms, adopting the petulance I’d seen many times in the past. “I’m not going to sit out while you waltz into danger. That’s not how it works. We’re a team.”

“We aren’t a team until you finish that—”

“Would you lay off? I have ten training hours left. That’s it. Ten. I’m ninety percent investigator.”

“Eighty.”

“Do not point out my poor math skills. It’s good enough. You aren’t leaving me behind.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“Tallus—” The growl in my tone intensified. It had less to do with unfinished training hours and more to do with the anxiety that surfaced every time I relived our previous excursion. I didn’t want him out there. Exposed. In danger.

My boyfriend pinned me with a look of contempt. “Try it, Guns. I dare you. You think I’m feisty now? I will make your head spin, and not in a good way, if you leave me behind.”

I stabbed a finger on the table, lowering my voice since we were drawing attention. “There is a man out there with a fucking rifle who isn’t going to ask us twice to please leave. His dog wanted to disembowel you, or have you forgotten?”

His Adam’s apple rose and fell. Oh, he remembered. I had a feeling he wouldn’t soon forget that treat. Neither would I. It had shaken me to my core.

“So it’s okay for you to go but not me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because… Because it just is. I’m not taking you. That’s final.”

Tallus pressed his lips together as he scanned the diner. A high flush painted crescents on his cheeks. Instant regret swamped my system. He was mad. No, he was livid, and Tallus was not a man who was easily angered.

My heart raced as he avoided my gaze. The words, I want you safe. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt , clung to the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t find the courage to say them. Saying them meant acknowledging something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Eventually, Tallus shifted to face me. He lifted his chin, sass and iron will colliding on the surface. “No.”

“No?”

“No. You don’t get to put me in a box. You don’t get to decide what’s good for me or not. It’s either safe enough for both of us or none of us. Decide.”

I didn’t know what to say and gawped like a fish drowning on air. This relationship thing was new and terrifying. More and more frequently, I caught these sudden urges to do exactly that; put Tallus in a box. Keep him safe from all the dangers in the world. The thought of anyone or anything causing him harm set my blood on fire.

Both of us or none of us, and he was serious. I wouldn’t change his mind.

Since I couldn’t ignore the hunch telling me to go back to the woods to see the cabin, a cabin that was quite possibly on the twins’ property, I conceded. “Fine.” The single word came out both strained and snappy.

Our meals arrived at that exact moment, and I didn’t miss the surreptitious glance from our waitress.

Tallus didn’t pick up his fork. He didn’t acknowledge the food at all. He stared, hurt bleeding from his hazel eyes.

“I said you can come with me.”

“I know.”

“You’re still mad.”

“No.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

He glanced at his plate instead but didn’t eat.

“You are mad. I can tell.”

He didn’t confirm or deny it, but I sensed it. I also didn’t know how to fix it. The disquiet it caused turned me inside out.

“Tallus—”

“Don’t treat me like I’m delicate. My father used to call me a delicate fairy. He told me I was too soft to be a man. Too pretty. This was long before I came out. Long before I was old enough to realize what he meant. I’m not delicate. I’m not soft. I’m as capable as anyone else.”

“I know.”

“I might be half your size, but I’m a feisty bastard.”

The corner of my lips curled into a half smile. “I know, Tallus. I never doubted it for a second.” And your feisty attitude is what drew me to you on day one . I didn’t say that part.

He reached for his fork and peeked up from behind his glasses. “So, what are we hoping to find in the woods?”

Cautiously settling, I sipped my tomato juice and organized my thoughts. “I didn’t get a good look at the cabin the first time. It feels important, and I can’t dismiss it. I want to know if it’s used or abandoned. I want to see if there’s evidence of teenagers being out there. Empty alcohol bottles or condoms, you know. If there is, we could be onto something.”

“What about the library?”

“We don’t need to go anymore. Londyn’s reaction was proof enough that she and Weston weren’t there.”

“So, we’re going with the idea that they were out at the cabin having a secret teenage rendezvous?”

I grunted, cutting a sausage link. It was the best we had and gave us something to do. Otherwise, I had to admit defeat and sacrifice a potentially decent paying job. I wasn’t able to do that.

Tallus lifted his breakfast wrap but stared blankly into the middle distance as the gears in his head seemed to spin.

“What?”

“Did the twins’ dynamic seem… odd to you?”

I considered. “How?”

He put his untouched wrap down. “When we suggested Londyn might have been meeting up with Weston at the cabin, Loyal looked ready to explode. Not only that but… the whole protective brother thing. It… sat wrong. I mean, I kind of get it. Maybe he looks out for his sister, and the thought of a guy taking advantage boils his blood, but…” Tallus shrugged and picked up his wrap again, this time taking a bite.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head as he chewed and swallowed. “I don’t know. I got a weird vibe. Plus, did you see Duke’s affectionate touches? Even when we were here yesterday, he was… eyeing up Londyn like a man with a major crush.”

“I saw that.” And not two weeks after Londyn’s boyfriend—a fellow club member—landed in intensive care on life support. I would have thought romance would be the last thing on their minds.

“But Duke acting affectionate toward Londyn didn’t trigger Loyal the same,” Tallus pointed out, reaching for his phone.

I made a noise of consent as I ate, unsure what it meant or if it was important. “Eat your food before it’s cold.”

A lot of our theories hinged on getting a look at the cabin in the woods. If we could tell it was used as a club meeting spot or a one-star hotel for teenage hookups, it might give us a direction. Otherwise, we would have to stalk a few less-than-legal youths, chat with them, or follow them around town to get answers. We’d stirred the pot, so chances were, if they had a hand in Weston’s accident , they would be worried. Guilty people tended to get antsy. Antsy people stood out.

We finished eating, and I paid using the business credit card. Delaney Mandel would reimburse all expenses later, thank fuck. In the parking lot, as we moved toward the Jeep, an angry voice called out, stopping us in our tracks.

“Hey. Stop. Wait a minute.”

I turned. Irvin Mandel, Weston’s father, barreled toward us, and he did not look happy. A newer model car I recognized from his house ran in the background, and I suspected he’d been waiting for us to leave the diner.

Red highlighted his cheeks, likely more from anger than cold. When he stopped, his nostrils flared. His volatile demeanor activated my own until Tallus placed himself between us.

“Good morning, Mr. Mandel. How can we help you?”

Irvin ignored Tallus and peered around him to glare at me. “This has gone on long enough. Your little phone call and update this morning set my wife off, and I won’t have it. Let us mourn in peace.”

“Your wife hired us, Mr. Mandel,” Tallus said, trying and failing to redirect the man’s attention away from me.

“And my wife is not in the right headspace. Can’t you see that? What are you trying to prove?”

“That your son was fucking murdered and didn’t have an accident,” I snapped.

Irvin scrubbed a hand over his face. The shadows under his eyes made me think he hadn’t been sleeping well. “Look, gentlemen, what does it matter? In the end, my son is still going to die. Nothing will change that. But you, waltzing in and sullying Weston’s name, is only going to leave my wife worse off. She’s at home fretting because Weston might have had secrets she didn’t know about. That he might not have been the amazing kid she thought she’d raised. I don’t need rumors about his sexual deviance running through town. He was a fucking teenager. The girl’s father might take issue, and that’s the last thing we need. I tried to tell Delaney it was normal, but she’s at home blaming herself, convinced the entire town will ostracize us. Drop this. Now. Go home.”

“We aren’t doing that. Your son might have been killed, and you want us to ignore it?” I couldn’t suppress the low rumble in my tone.

“Yes.”

I huffed. “Too fucking bad. You didn’t hire us, so you can’t fire us, and since we have reason to believe your wife is right, it would be unethical for us to walk away.”

Irvin stepped forward; his finger raised. Tallus backed up a step, colliding with my much broader body. “I’m warning you. No more. If you keep this up, you’ll regret it.”

“Have a good day, Mr. Mandel. Let your wife know we’ll call with updates.” I snagged Tallus’s arm and steered him to the passenger side door, opening it and waving for him to get in. The entire time, I kept my gaze on Irvin.

The man fumed for another minute before spinning and storming toward his running vehicle. Then, he drove off into the overcast day.

***

By nine, we were on the road, heading to the trail by the river. Neither of us brought up the encounter with Weston’s father, but his animosity grated under my skin. I couldn’t decide if the man was an asshole or protecting his wife. Either way, he wasn’t who hired us, so he had no authority to fire us.

Unlike the previous day, the temperatures were above freezing, but with the dampness in the air, it remained cold. The thaw had turned whatever ice remained to water. The parking lot was a swamp, so I nosed the Jeep into the only dry spot available, wedged in close to the line of trees blocking our view of the water.

“Be careful,” I warned as Tallus got out. “There could still be ice under the puddles. Don’t break your neck.”

We aimed for the trail. The mud was thicker, the ground softer, and the air redolent with the scent of moldering earth. Eclipsing the quiet morning, the rushing river announced itself long before we got to the part of the path that ran alongside its edge. The turbulent water seemed more violent today, smashing against protruding rocks with brutal force, sending up high sprays of mist.

We didn’t exchange words as we walked. Tallus stuck close to my side, gazing steadily at the forest to our right. I didn’t miss the tension straining his eyes and wanted to offer reassurance but didn’t know how. He needed to remember that I suggested he stay back, but doing so might invoke yelling or earn me the same look I’d seen in his eyes at the diner.

Tallus didn’t complain about his shoes or the temperature, and considering his ears shone red from the stinging wind and his teeth randomly chattered, I knew he suffered from a lack of appropriate winter attire.

When we came to the same spot where we’d left the trail the previous day, I halted and examined the woods, looking and listening for signs of a presence. We veered into the trees without discussion, walking lightly through silent agreement.

The river noises faded the further away we got but never vanished. Its angry churning remained a constant reminder of Weston’s fate. How the kid had survived at all was anyone’s guess. He should have died that night, and whoever had been with him—I was more and more convinced he wasn’t alone—had been counting on his demise.

We reached the decrepit wire fence with its rotting wooden posts.

“Wait.” I touched Tallus’s arm, but my command was redundant.

Tallus’s expression told me he was in no hurry to hop the fence and venture onto private property again, where a man with a gun and a hostile dog potentially awaited our return.

I narrowed my eyes and surveyed the entire area beyond the barricade, slowly and with precision, looking for any sign of life among the trees. Ears perked and tuned into nature, I waited to see if any unnatural rustling or movement sounded in the distance.

Apart from the wind high above and the distant cries of an unhappy river, all was calm.

We would not be caught unaware this time.

Tallus waited for a sign. Reluctantly, still fighting the urge to heave him over my shoulder and lock him in the Jeep, I nodded and held the fence low so he could step over before I joined him on the other side. That time, I kept Tallus within arm’s reach as we forged a path through the woods toward the cabin.

Every busy squirrel or chirping winter bird made my spine stiffen. My lungs expanded and contracted, and I worked hard to keep my breathing quiet and even. Before long, the vine-covered structure came into view.

I gestured, and Tallus nodded as we continued toward it. My gaze skipped about, scanning and ensuring we were alone.

My boyfriend had a runaway mouth most days. It could get him in trouble in this field of work. Not today. Not now. Decerning the seriousness of the situation and knowing when to keep his mouth shut was a step in the right direction.

It didn’t mean I was happy about his presence. I still wished he’d listened and stayed back at the B&B.

My skin prickled with sweat under my coat, and my nerves were shot. I wouldn’t see or hear a bullet if the man was as skilled with the rifle as I assumed. Like I told Tallus, I doubted we would get a second warning. And what if the bullet came for Tallus instead? What if… I clenched my fists, warding off the visual my mind so readily painted.

Silence persisted, and we made it to the cabin without incident.

Having a solid building protecting one side of us reduced my anxiety, but until we were back in the Jeep, back in the safety of the B&B, I would not let my guard down. Thoughts of the previous night returned unexpectedly. Tallus asleep in my arms. Tallus’s soft breath ghosting my skin. His body against mine. His scent. The soft brush of his hair against my cheek.

It was a gift not meant for a man like me, but I’d greedily soaked it up. For as awkward and uncomfortable as I’d felt at first, as the night had deepened, I’d found myself settling. I wanted it again. Every night. Only in my arms could I know that Tallus was safe from this unforgiving world. What that said about me was a question for another day. I didn’t have enough spoons to process it right now.

The cabin wasn’t much bigger than a single-car garage. The overgrown vines covering the rotting beams suggested it hadn’t been used in a long time. I had a hunch it might have acted as a hunting cabin.

Tallus moved to peer in a nearby window, and I joined him, keeping a fist coiled in the back of his jacket in case I needed to yank him to safety at a moment’s notice. Dingy light penetrated the interior from three sides, illuminating the single room beyond in a hazy glow. A film of sappy dust coated the pane and obscured our vision, but not enough that we couldn’t take in the sight beyond.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Tallus whispered under his breath.

It wasn’t a decrepit, abandoned space as I predicted. Despite the portrayal of the exterior, the interior was immaculate. Furnished and homey. Tall bookshelves lined one wall. A stone fireplace occupied the opposite. Two plush couches and an oversized chair surrounded a wooden coffee table centered on a thick area rug. An antique wooden desk took up space in a corner. Shaded lamps and art fixtures decorated random places around the room.

But the wall hangings and plastic models were what drew my attention. Diagrams of the human body with a complete anatomical breakdown, charts describing blood splatter, graphs explaining the various indicators of head trauma, a table depicting the methodology of fatal stab wounds, a poster showing the dissection of a human cadaver, along with written lists of autopsy protocols, and many, many more.

A poster near the desk contained dozens of tiny photographs of faces, and at first, I couldn’t make out who they were. Then it hit me. It was a poster of famous serial killers dating back to the 1800s.

A whiteboard, balanced on an easel in the center of the room, was filled with someone’s neat handwriting. A suggested murder plot topped the board, underlined several times in blue. Under it, pros and cons had been listed, along with alternate ways the murder could be performed to lessen the risk of exposure.

“Are you seeing this?” Tallus hissed. “I think we found Murder Club headquarters. Fuck. This is nuts. These kids are fucking sadistic, D. Look at this shit.”

I shushed him as he moved away from the window. Grabbing his arm, darting my attention to the vast woods to ensure we were alone, I whispered, “Where are you going?”

“Around the side. There are two other windows. I want to see what’s on the bookshelf and desk, and I can’t tell from here.”

A rumble arose in my chest, a protest stinging my tongue, but the forest was as empty as it had been when we arrived, so I moved with him, circling the building on silent feet.

Tallus took his phone from a pocket and opened the camera app. Smart. Why hadn’t I thought of that? At the next window, he snapped pictures at every angle, zooming in at times to get clearer images. When he lowered the device, he went to his toes and squinted at the bookshelf.

“They’re all nonfiction,” he said.

I glanced over his shoulder. He was right, and every one of them was about famous serial killers by the look of it. Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Jack the Ripper, a few on Dr. Death, and many more. Some I’d never heard of. The collection topped thirty or more books easily.

“Wait. The ones by the desk are different.” Tallus pointed. “See? They’re a collection or something. The spines match.” He tilted his head and read aloud while I scanned the forest again. “ The Crimson Veil , The Forgotten Corpse , The Unseen Hand , The Deceitful Stranger … The… I can’t read the next ones. They’re too far away. There’s… about eight of them. They sound like fiction, and they’re all by the same author. Some guy called Ambrose Whitaker.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Me neither, but that’s not saying much. I hate reading.”

“Hence why you haven’t finished the course.”

“Get off my case about that freaking course. Fifty hours is a lot.” Tallus slipped from my hold and scampered to the last window.

I followed, a low hum of uneasiness vibrating in the pit of my stomach. The tingling feeling of being watched wouldn’t go away, but no matter how fiercely I strained, I saw no one.

“We should leave,” I said when I caught up.

“Can you pick the lock? I want to go inside.”

“No.”

“Can I pick the lock? It would be good practice.”

“No. The tools are in the Jeep, and we got our answer. If that dog sniffs us out—”

A loud crack echoed through the forest, freezing my blood. Tallus jumped, and I roughly snagged his jacket, yanking him to the ground and using my much bigger body as a shield.

Stillness followed the sound, but blood whomped so loudly in my ears that I felt deaf. Air hissed in and out of my lungs.

Tallus squirmed beneath me. “D. You’re crushing me.”

But I couldn’t let go. I had him squeezed in my arms, but uncoiling my muscles was an impossibility. Straining, I listened for the threat, wondering when the next shot would fly and if the first was a warning or a miss.

Wind. The rushing river.

Nothing.

“Diem.”

“Quiet.”

“It was a tree branch. Not a gunshot.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“It was. I swear.”

A tree branch? Where? How? Had it fallen? I scanned the forest and the canopy of bare branches overhead but couldn’t process what he suggested.

“Diem.” Tallus squirmed again, and as my heart rate calmed, I loosened my grip and shifted my weight so he could get up.

On our feet again, I scanned him from head to toe. Apart from flushed cheeks, tousled hair, and crooked glasses, he was in one piece. Filthier, but in one piece.

“Are you sure it was a branch?”

“Yes.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here. I feel like I’m walking the razor’s edge of sanity.”

The man with the rifle and dog were out there. I felt it, and the more time that passed, the more I was convinced Tallus was wrong. It was a gunshot. A warning.

A lifetime of being terrorized by my father had given me thick skin and apathy when it came to my emotional and physical well-being. In my teens, I walked a thin line between wanting to live and wanting to die. As an adult, I’d accepted that my life had no value.

But Tallus was a different story. The thought of any harm coming to him annihilated me. Fear was an emotion I’d shucked years ago, but bringing Tallus into these dangerous woods was pushing me into an emotional space I’d never been, and I was angry he didn’t heed my request to stay back.

He returned to the window.

“Come on. I said we’re leaving.”

“But I want to look inside.”

“No, Tallus. We’re fucking done.” I couldn’t rein in the venomous tone. My emotions were well and truly fucked. “The next time a crack rings out, it could mean our fucking brains painting the side of this goddamn cabin.” I slammed a fist against the vine-covered wall, rattling the boards. “And I don’t want to have to explain to your mother that I got you fucking killed. I don’t want to attend a fucking funeral for the first goddamn boyfriend I’ve managed to secure since I was in college. The first man I’ve shared a bed with in… ever.”

Tallus hitched a brow. “Why is it my brains painting the cabin? Why can’t it be your brains?”

“I don’t fucking care about my brains,” I hissed, trying but struggling to keep my volume low. “My brains are meaningless. They’re shit. Ask my father. I care about your beautiful fucking brains. Now move your ass before I throw you over my shoulder and move it for you.”

When he got a lovestruck look in his eyes, I growled and grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the fence and trail while cursing a blue streak. He stumbled after me, chuckling, but I didn’t release him or slow down.

“Diem…”

“Don’t.”

“Aww, babe, are you having feelings again?”

“Shut up, Tallus.”

“For the record, I care about your big, beautiful brain too, and the fact that you’d willingly toss me over your shoulder to save my life is swoony.”

“I should have left you behind.”

We made it to the fence unscathed, and I got too handsy, ensuring Tallus went over first. When he stumbled and fell, I cursed, giving him a hand to his feet. Clenching my fists, knowing I needed to cool off, I avoided touching him as we retraced our steps along the trail to the Jeep.

The coiling tension restricting my lungs eased as we reached the trailhead and emerged into the weak sunlight, doing all it could to warm the small town of Port Hope. Tallus aimed for the passenger side as I hit the key fob to unlock the doors.

It didn’t work. I pressed it again with no better luck. “Fuck’s sake. The batteries in these goddamn things are shit. Do you know what it’s going to cost for a new one? Fucking great. Just what I needed. To piss more money away.”

I opened the doors manually with the key.

We sat for a second, both of us staring back into the forest. I didn’t know what Tallus was thinking, but that crack echoed inside my head over and over, and I couldn’t convince myself it was a fucking branch.

“D, turn the Jeep on. I’m freezing.”

Tallus’s hands were pink from the cold. They matched his ruddy cheeks and nose. I jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened. Not a cough or a wheeze from the engine. My effort was rewarded by a single click .

“What the fuck?”

I tried again but had no better luck. Same click . The dash didn’t light up. The radio didn’t come on. Nothing.

“Is the Jeep’s battery dead?” Tallus asked.

“Why the fuck would the battery be dead?”

“I don’t know. Did you leave the lights on?”

“They’re automatic. They turn off on their own.”

Tallus glanced up at the interior light and checked the switch to be sure it hadn’t been knocked to the on position by accident. It hadn’t.

I turned the key again with no different results. “Motherfucker.” I punched the steering wheel, then popped the hood and barreled out the door, shouting, “Stay there,” before slamming it again.

But the day Tallus listened was the day roses grew out of my ass. He was on my heels in seconds, crowding my side as I lifted the hood and propped it on the strut. I wasn’t a car guy. I hadn’t grown up with a father who’d invited me to work on engines or even so much as taught me to change the oil or a flat tire. In fact, I’d learned to drive on my own—illegally—because confining my old man and me into a car for any length of time was a recipe for disaster.

I’d learned a few mechanical things over the years, but my ability to diagnose a problem left much to be desired. It didn’t take a genius to see that my battery had been disconnected. Confused, I stared at it for a long time, the pieces not clicking.

“D? Someone—”

“I know.”

Batteries didn’t disconnect themselves. Someone had tampered with my vehicle. Instantly on alert, I scanned the road and forest near the trailhead. A patch of trees behind me blocked the view of the river, but I took a moment to survey the area, goose bumps painting my flesh.

“Who did this?” Tallus asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

With my hand braced on the raised hood, I stared into the bowels of the Jeep. The doors had been locked. How had the person accessed the lever to pop the hood? Could that be done without getting inside the vehicle? I had no fucking clue.

An odd popping crackling noise drew me from my swirling thoughts. I jerked my head and met Tallus’s gaze.

“What’s…”

His eyes widened with a flash of terror. “Diem, watch out!”