Page 100 of Evidence of a Folktale

“I will.” She cupped his cheek as he trailed a finger over her necklace. “I love you, Mr. Stone.”

“Thank God for that… your phone is vibrating.” He tapped her pocket andthen hewas gone, a ghost who’d never existed.

“Bel,” Olivia said when she answered the call. “I just left the morgue.”

“And?”

“What do you think?”

“Death by exsanguination. No evidence.Nodefensive wounds. No fingerprints,” Bel said.

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” Olivia groaned. “I don’t understand. That much blood and none of it splattered onto the killer. How did he not track it around the house? He could’ve used the snow to wash up in the woods, and the bleeding body would’ve covered his mess. But inside? Plus, Rouge was sleeping next to your neighbor. How is there no evidence? Unless there’s something you’re not telling me? Is something in our town?”

Bel froze, unsure how much she should reveal, and that was all the answer her partner needed.

“Great,” Olivia said. “So, you’re lying to me again.”

“We aren’t certain of anything,” she protested. “They’re just theories.”

“Theories that you don’t think I’m entitled to.”

“Olivia…”

“It’s fine. Whatever. I’m going to look into your cab driver idea. It’s a decent theory.”

“It is.” Bel sagged against the wall. They’d been making progress, but this omission had murdered it.

“I’ll keep you updated.” Olivia hung up before Bel could answer, and she shoved her phone into her pocket to rub her face. If she rubbed hard enough, perhaps she’d wake up and learn this chaos and turmoil had been nothing but a nightmare.

“Detective?” Taron’s voice slipped through Bel’s fingers. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” Bel peeled herself off the wall. “It’s just been a long month.”

“You can say that again. But we’re almost done here… will the deaths stop when we leave town?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” Taron pushed.

“He won’t stop until he completes his mission,” Bel answered. She liked Taron. They were nothing alike, but the actress deserved safety at work.

“Gotcha. Am I in danger?”

“I don’t think so,” Bel said. The show had gotten popular before her addition to the cast. If a deal had been struck, it had been made long before Miss Monroe morphed into a fictional detective. “Nevertheless, I wouldn’t wander alone at night until we catch this killer.”

“My character might be reckless enough to leave after dark. You’redefinitelybrave enough to try something like that.” Taron patted her shoulder with a laugh. “But thankfully, I’m no cop.”

“What did you think, Detective?”Beau settled entirely too close to Bel, and she had to grip her thigh to keep from shoving him a few inches back.

“What do I think?”she silently repeated to herself.“That you’re obnoxious and selfish for not shutting down production, and you overcompensate around me because I’m the only woman you’ve met who hasn’t begged you to bed them.”

“It was great,” she said instead. “I love this library. It’ll make a beautiful scene.”

“Me too.” Beau shifted closer, and she regretted telling Eamon she wouldn’t need him. She could use a protective boyfriend at the moment.

“I bet it’s pretty exciting for you to be here on set,” he continued. “Small town like this. Not much ever happens.”

Bel forced her features to remain neutral. Not much ever happens? It seemed that finding over forty women in a freezer and being shot at by their murderer was nothing to write home about. Plus, she and Eamon weren’t exactly subtle. How had Beau missed the obvious signs that she wasn’t on the market?

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