Page 29 of Running to the Mountain Man

Of course, this is my fault. Why else would Barrett bark at me to stay in the house unless he believed he was harboring a fugitive?

I head to the bedroom, grab my backpack, and shove my boots on, then pound down the back stairs and head out the door.

If I get lost, Barrett won’t get in trouble. Even if I’m innocent, he’s not the only one who thinks I might have shot Trace.

As if I could hurt the father of one of my best friends. Even if he is a deadbeat dad. Was a deadbeat dad, I correct myself.

I get about three feet into the tree line when I’m jumped from behind.

A thin but strong arm, immovable as iron, has me in a headlock. Whoever it is has terrible breath and hisses in my ear.

“Scream, and I’ll slit your throat, witch.”

Chapter Fourteen

Barrett

Deputy Mark is on my property again, behaving just as uselessly as he did the last time.

It takes ten minutes to explain to him my constitutional right to not have my house searched without a warrant.

“I don’t think you understand. This is a murder investigation.”

“Then, if I’m a suspect, please place me under arrest. Take me in for questioning.”

Through gritted teeth, he answers, “You know my sergeant already cleared you.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for another suspect. Someone was making threats against The Prophet, and we think there might be a connection between?—”

The man catches himself and then stops.

Now, where have I heard that word recently?

“The what? The Prophet?” I ask.

He fixes his dumb face and tries again. “We’re looking for someone who was making threats against a nearby church leader who is on sabbatical. We think there may be a connection between the shooting and those other threats.”

I bite my tongue so hard I might bleed. Goldie told me everything. And now I think this guy might belong to the same church she ran away from.

“Who’s we? And what does that have to do with me?”

“The department has an interest in all of the citizens of our county,” he says, sounding too much like a politician. “Especially our respected clergy.”

Clergy, my ass.

“Respected clergy. Don’t know of such a creature,” I say, having moved on to pretending to pick dirt out from under my nails with my pocketknife. So bored with this conversation.

And yet, he persists.

“Be that as it may. There were reports of a disgruntled member of his flock. She disappeared yesterday after making threats, and we understand she also has a connection to the dead man. She was spotted in this area. So we just want to talk to her.”

That’s quite the spin.

I shrug. “By whom?”

“That’s confidential.”

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