Page 113 of The Sister's Curse

The hair on the back of my neck prickled. My hand came to rest on the butt of my gun, but my gun was missing.

An old pickup truck pulled up, driven by Owen Destin. He jumped down and nodded at me. He was carrying a backpack and wearing hiking boots.

“Thanks for coming,” he said. “She won’t listen to me.”

“You knew where she was this whole time?”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “Viv was looking for a place to lay low for a while. She said some meth heads had come by to threaten her. I told her I would help.”

I glanced back at the trailer. “Is she in there?”

“Nah. That’s my granddad’s old place. Nobody’s lived there for many years.”

“Where is she?”

“Follow me.”

Destin turned toward the woods.

We waded through the meadow, into the forest. Gibby trotted merrily along beside me. Rain began to prickle against my face and shoulders.

We wound into the woods, following old deer trails, walking in silence. I knew the trails, having followed many with my father. As we walked, my leg ached, feeling hot against my wet pant leg. Gibby pressed his nose to the ground, tail wagging, thrilled at the scents of foreign woods.

Owen paused before a series of rusted tanks and a small metal shack.

I poked at a rusty pipe. “Your granddad was into moonshining?”

“Yeah. Family business,” he admitted. Owen knocked on the shack door, three times, and it opened, spilling light on the muddy ground.

Viv stood in the doorway. She didn’t look good. Her tank top and shorts hung loosely on her body, and her cheeks were sunken. Dark circles spread under her eyes. Her hair had a gray streak. She took a drag on her cigarette.

“You’ve got a visitor.” Owen slipped inside with his backpack and started unzipping it. I saw bottles of water, fruit, and sandwiches inside.

Viv looked me up and down, looking a little pissed. “Come in.”

She closed the door behind me. Like most old moonshiners’ shacks, this one was well sealed to prevent light from leaking out and alerting the authorities. The interior had a dirt floor, and water dripped down a wall. A sleeping bag and camping lantern were tucked inside, and a stack of paperback books teetered beside the burning lantern. The place reeked of tobacco smoke, and an overflowing ashtray sat on the floor.

Viv sat down on the sleeping bag. I knelt opposite her on the floor with Gibby, the ashtray between us. Owen leaned against the wall behind me, seeming to disappear into the shadows.

“Viv,” I said, “I have some things to tell you, things that aren’t easy to say.”

“Tell me what?” Viv demanded.

“I found Dana’s body. At the island in the oxbow near the Hag Stone. I’m sorry.”

She exhaled, and smoke rolled from her nose. “Finally.” Her voice crackled with unshed tears. “Can you tell what happened to her?”

“Not yet. She’s been taken to the coroner’s office to determine the cause of death.”

She nodded and swallowed. “You have other things to tell me.”

“Your house was tossed, and then burned.” I felt like shit telling her that her life was gone.

“Sinoe. Did they hurt my fox?” She leaned forward, her eyes glassy. “I was going to take her with me, but she didn’t show up for breakfast. I figured she’d be okay on her own for a few days…”

“She’s fine. I took her home.”

Viv closed her eyes. “Thank you.”