Page 44 of Evidence of a Folktale

“Good idea,” Griffin said. “I’ll?—”

“Detective Emerson?” Officer Rollo interrupted him. “A package was delivered for you. I put it on your desk.”

“Thanks,” Bel said. “Did you see who it’s from?”

“No. There were no addresses on the box. Just your name and the station.”

Bel raised her eyebrows at the deputy. “Thanks, Rollo.”

“No problem.” He nodded as he left. “Let me know what the boyfriend got you.”

“It’s not your birthday,” Griffin said as they walked to her desk. “Valentine’s Day is coming soon, though. You think Eamon sent you something?”

“Maybe. Not sure who else would send me an unaddressed package.” She picked up the small brown box and undid the tape, but when she peeled back the lid, she froze, the blood solidifying in her veins until she couldn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Griffin asked, but Bel couldn’t find her voice. She didn’t want to believe her eyes, so she merely tilted the package for the sheriff to see, praying he would prove she was imagining things.

Except the color drained from his face when he saw what rested inside the delivery, and she knew she wasn’t hallucinating. Her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. They recognized what lay inside, and Bel wanted to throw up at the sight. For in her hands sat a tiny white gift box tied with a crimson red bow… just like the one found at Gwen Rossa’s crime scene.

Bel racedfor the station’s reception, barely stopping as she shouted at the on-duty officers. “Who delivered the package for me?”

“I don’t know,” the deputy said.

“It wasn’t the mailman?” she asked.

“No.”

“What did they look like?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” She gawked at him.It was his jobto address and observe those who approached the station’s front desk.

“A giant group of fans was just here trying to get information,” he said. “By the time we got them and their social media filming outside, the package was there. We didn’t see who slipped it onto the counter.”

“Check the security footage!” Bel bolted out the front door, the icy wind punching her face as she skidded to a stop to avoid a pedestrian passing on the sidewalk.

“Geez, watch where you’re—sorry, officer,” the stranger fumbled.

“Did you see them?” She ignored his comment. “The group that just left the station. Did you see where they went?”

“Um…” the man scanned the now sparsely populated street. “No.”

Bel cursed as she jogged out into the road, but whoever had delivered the package was long gone. A horn honked behind her, and she glared at the driver, who had the decency to look embarrassed when he realized she was a cop. The car slowed to allow her to retreat, and she sprinted back into the station and up the stairs to her desk.

“I couldn’t find who left this,” she said when Griffin raised his eyebrows in question.

“It has no prints,” he said. “We got photos before dusting it, but we found nothing.”

“Thanks.” Her gloved hands grabbed the tiny white box and untied the red ribbon. “You know this means there’s another body?”

“I do,” he said as Olivia and the other officers present gathered around.

Bel pulled off the lid and withdrew the single sheet of paper. She unfolded it and shoved it into an evidence bag before laying it flat on her desk. “It’s a game of hangman, and there’s one turn left.” She pointed to the stick figure body hanging from the noose. It had a head, torso, andtwo arms, but only one leg. Some letters were written on the answer lines, but mostof thephraseremained blank. It didn’t matter, though. She recognized the pattern and the message. The hangman would be complete with only one more wrong letter. They’d lost the game, and a very real victim had lost their life.

“Another riddle,” Griffin said. “Five words. Just like the first clue… what did that one say again?”

“What big eyes you have,” Bel answered.

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