Page 29 of Evidence of a Folktale

Bel bit her lip to stifle a laugh, but a glare from Olivia stole the humor from the room. A woman dead on an ancient being’s property? In Olivia’s mind, Eamon was already guilty.

“If you ask me, that guy killed her,” Tony continued.

“We’ll look into him,” Bel said, not caringtodiscussher love life with this man or her angry partner.“Thank you for your time.” She stepped for the exit, hoping the movement wouldput an end toMr. Royce’s critiques. “We have your information; we’llbe in touchif we have any more questions.”

“Let me guess. Don’t leave town?” he asked, as if eager to experience the famous cop phrase.

“Sure, but don’t harass any more writers. Next time, you won’t just be removed from the event. You’ll have to deal with me.” Bel shut the motel door behind them. “Well, he certainly didn’t kill anyone.Drivepeople crazy? Absolutely, but there’s no way he chased a woman through a storm or cut her apart.”

“I agree,” Olivia said.

“Hopefully, the autopsy will point us in the right direction. I’m going to talk to Rossa’s assistant and retrace her steps the night before she died. If we can identify her movements, we might find out if she met anyone. Want to come?”

“Sounds like you got it under control.” Olivia unlocked her car. “No need for both of us to go. I’ll get started on the paperwork.”

Volunteering to do paperwork? Her partner really must hate her.

“Yeah, okay…” Bel didn’t know what else to say. “I’ll call you if I find anything.”

But she found nothing. Gwen Rossa and her assistant had gone their separate ways after the fan event, and she believed her boss was asleep in her hotel room until the producers told her someone had gutted her in the woods.

“Wow, it’s cold out there,”Eamon said as he and Cerberus dragged snow through Bel’s front door. He’d volunteered to shovel her parking spot and walkways if she wanted to spend the night at her cabin, so she’d come home after her frustrating day. It was late and dark and frigid, but that she didn’t have to clear her driveway was a small light at the end of the tunnel. She got to sit inside with fuzzy socks and steaming soup while Eamon and her dog did all the work.

“It must be brutal if you’re cold,” she said. “There’s soup in the pot. It’s canned, but it’s hot.”

“Thanks.” Eamon tugged Cerberus’ sweater off his stocky body and lifted him onto the couch beside his mom, wrapping him in a blanket to warm him up after his snowy playtime. “What are you working on?” He kissed her cheek before moving to the stove, and his normally cool lips felt like solid ice against her skin.

“That paper you found at the scene,” she answered. “I printed out a photo of it, but I can’t make sense of it. A girl sliced apart and left naked in the woods save for a red cloak accompanied by a white gift box hiding a jumble of letters. Makes tons of sense.”

“Can I see it?” He asked as he settled at the kitchen table to eat.

“Legally? Not really.” Bel joined him, resisting his request because, at this point, insisting he couldn’t do something was more flirting than denial.

“Well, I already saw it when I opened the box, so if anyone asks, I memorized it.” He winked before planting a kiss on her lips. “Hand it over.”

She slid the paper across the table and watched as his death-black eyes roamed the page.

Cngz hom keky eua ngbk

“It’sdefinitelywords,” he said. “And small ones at that. My guess is it’s a code.”

“I figured as much, but that’s as far as I got,” Bel said.

“I think it’s a Caesar Cipher.”

“A what?”

“Julius Caesar used this for his private correspondence, hence its name,” he explained. “It’s where you take the letters of the alphabet and shift them forward by a predetermined number. Tomake it simple, if you use the number four, the letter A becomes the Letter E. You shift all your letters before sending the message, and then your recipient counts backward.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?” Bel bumped him with her shoulder. “Check the Gate. Caesar Cipher. What else do you have up your sleeve?”

“When you’ve been alive as long as I have, purposes dampen the boredom,” he said. “The years all blur together, and you can lose yourself to time. I always reinvent myself every few decades.Keepsme under the radar, but it also makes life interesting. Ichangeeverything about myself, and suddenly I’m at the bottom of my new chosen career, forced to start over thus keeping my mind sharp. This lifetime has been the least boring, though… in fact, I would prefer a little less anxiety.” He reached below the table and squeezed her thigh. “I could use a break from stressing about what this human detective will do next.”

“So Eamon Stone isn’t even your real name. And this.” She gestured to his chest. “He’s a reinvention… just like the man who will come after me.”

“There is no after you,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “There will never be an after you. There was a before. There’s a during, but there is no after. You’re it for me, the reason I survived for so long. And as far as I’m concerned, Eamon Stone is the real me because it’s the name that belongs to you. He’s the only version that matters.”

“As unnerving as that is, I would love you no matter your name andno matterthe lifetime,” she whispered.

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