Page 38 of Firefly Effect

Another man found deceased in the woods.

No witnesses.

Last seen hiking alone just the day before.

Police are investigating a homicide.

Suddenly, I’m hanging on every word.

“Spectators are already asking if there’s a connection to any of the other rumored Firefly Man murders that have taken place in the Great Smoky Mountains, beginning with fifteen-year-old Carley Pruitt,” the reporter says. “Pruitt’s murder took place at Deep Creek Campground in Bryson City, fourteen years ago. Police will certainly be looking into all similarities of the crimes.”

“What campground is that?” I ask, my body shaking. “Why is our local news reporting it?” I have to force the words from my throat.

Janessa frowns. “I don’t know.” Our eyes stay glued to the screen until we both see it at once.

Backcountry Camp 60, reads the ticker. It takes me a few seconds to place that location on my mental map. Several camps like that are available for wilderness hikers who venture through the Appalachians, and they are often used by backpackers who are making their way past Bryson City.

“That’s like five miles from here.” I say the words out loud, but Janessa knows the backcountry far better than I do.

“I know,” she croaks. “I’ve camped there.”

We look at each other, the panic in Janessa’s glazed-over features matching how I feel inside. If it’s only five miles from here, that means it’s even closer to Deep Creek Campground. And if the news report is true, and this crime is possibly connected to the Firefly Man, that means the killer is closer to Bryson City than he’s been in fourteen years.

That’s too close.

Why? Why, after all these years, would he come so close to the scene of his first crime?

I don’t even hesitate to send Janessa home to shut down the bar. I leave a note on the door, letting our customers know that Firefly management is reserving this time to grieve for another life lost.

Once the bar doors are locked and the shades are drawn, I sit back down and turn up the volume on the television, listening for more updates. Whoever did this must pay. All I can hope is that whatever evidence the police are gathering leads them straight to the piece of shit responsible. I don’t think I can handle another unsolved murder in this area.

I’m buzzing from four green tea shots when there’s a knock on the Firefly door. At this hour of the afternoon, I’m not surprised. The locals would normally start trickling in by now, and Patrick would never allow his bar to shut down during regular operating hours. Then again, this place hasn’t seen a homicide in fourteen years, so I feel justified in calling the shots with this one.

I make my way to the entrance and open the shades, planning to let whoever it is know that the locked door isn’t a mistake. But when I see Lincoln staring back at me, a worried frown creasing his forehead, I immediately unlock the door.

The moment I open the door, he rushes in, enveloping me in a hug like he knows it’s exactly what I need.

He holds me close. “Are you okay?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, a flood of emotions pouring through me, and I bury my face in his shoulder to keep the tears at bay. I’m not okay, but I’m not sure I can speak quite yet. Instead, I shake my head and cling to him a little tighter while he shuts and locks the door behind us. He even redraws the shade before fully engulfing me in an embrace so real, so powerful, I almost forget why I needed it in the first place.

Finally, I manage to say, “I couldn’t keep the bar open after hearing about that man.”

He holds me tighter. “I’m so sorry. As soon as I heard the news, I couldn’t help thinking about that story you told me about your friend Carley. They even mentioned her on the news.”

“I know. I’ve been watching for updates all day. Well, after I found out. I ran out for an hour to go see J.D., and when I came back, the news must have just broke.”

Lincoln looks completely taken aback. “Wait. You what?”

I search his face, trying to understand his reaction. “I went to J.D.’s house.” When Lincoln’s expression doesn’t change, I sigh. “Look, he wasn’t just my therapist. He was my friend. Doreen didn’t know why he suddenly up and left the business he’d spent his life building, so I paid him a visit. I wanted to make sure he was all right.”

Lincoln’s eyes dart between mine. “And? Did you talk to him?”

Disappointment engulfs me at the memory. “No. His wife wouldn’t give me any information. Just that he’s unavailable, whatever that means.”

Lincoln’s entire demeanor seems to relax a bit. “Then he must be fine. She would know if something was seriously wrong. Evie, the man is well past the average age of retirement. Maybe he was just ready to say goodbye.”

“That’s the thing, Lincoln. He didn’t say goodbye. He disappeared without a single word, giving us no reason. On top of that, the rumors that are starting to swirl around town are making me crazy. I just need to see him.”

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