Page 93 of Evidence of a Folktale

“So, she left the door unlocked,” Bel said. “She was drunk and hooking up with her celebrity crush. She admitted locking up was the last thing on her mind.”

“I’m so sick of this case.” Olivia collapsedforward, her elbows digging into her thighs to support her head’s weight, but Bel didn’t move. She didn’t want to jinx this moment of comradery and spook her partner into another stretch of unbearable avoidance.

“We have no evidence, no leads, no suspects, but we finally have a slight change in the M.O.,” Olivia continued. “He opened the sliding glass door to‘put’Warren Rouge in the woods, but he killed the director inside and left your neighbor alive. She’s a potential witness, and unlike the snow that washes away everything, Miss Rider’s cabin preserved the scene… butsheleft the door unlocked. She practically invited him in.”

“She didn’t know Rouge was a target,” Bel said. “And we’ve all forgotten things while drunk.”

“I know. It’s just frustrating. Your neighbor could’ve provided us with something worthwhile.”

“If she remembered anything about last night, she’d be dead, too. It’s better this way.”

“I guess. But how does someone butcher four people without leaving so much as a blood trail?”

“The snow,” Bel said. “He probably wiped the blades off by the bodies because the corpses’ heat and pumping blood would hide his mess in the melting snow.”

“That’s why the house is so frustrating.Noelements to degrade the scene, yet we still learned nothing. It’s like our killer is a ghost…” She swallowed as if she could un-speak that word.

“He may have used the tub to clean the weapon,” Bel said. “We should check the sinks.”

“I’ll get on that,” Olivia said. “Not that it’llhelp us find him unless he washed something useful down the drain and it got stuck. You still think there’s one more murder?”

“We need the who,” Bel said.

“What happens if he kills his fifth victim? Does he vanish into the wind, never to kill again? Does he pick a new town and start over? Will he turn himself in and confess?”

“It depends on his motive, I guess. If he’s killing for revenge, he’ll probably stop. If that’s the case, he’ll take care to disappear, though, and we’ll never find him. If his riddles and clues are a ritual, he’ll eventually select another five to sacrifice. As for confessing? He’d have to feel guilty, and I don’t think our killer does. The violence. The premeditation. The theatrics. He isn’t suffering from guilt.”

“So, no option ends well for us.” Olivia sagged in her chair, and Bel had to fight her hands to stop them from reaching out and taking her partner’s. “I realize I’m not part of Aesop’s Files’ cast or crew, but it still makes me nervous to be alone at night. I keep seeing their gutted bodies and imagining what it’s like to die like that. Is that what that hiker we found months ago endured because of Ewan?”

“That hiker was trying to wipe out an entire pack,” Bel said. “That’s different.”

“So you say.”

“Because it’s true,” Bel said. “Ewan loves you, and he’d die before he let anyone hurt you. What’s happening in our town isn’t normal, but he would keep you safe.”

“I’m not getting back together with him.” Olivia stood, signaling the end of the discussion, and Bel clenched her fists so hard, her nails dug into her palms. Olivia had initiated a conversation, and she’d gone and ruined it by bringing up her ex.

“You don’t have to,” Bel said, desperate to make her stay. “But he’d do anything for you.”

“Except tell me the truth,” Olivia said, and it was Bel’s turn to sag deeper into her chair.

“I know you want me to forgive him,” her partner continued. “I don’t understand how you’re okay with this, but at least you knew. You fell in love with Eamon knowing the truth, but what if he’d lied? What if he’d pretended to be normal and only revealed he was a monster after you loved him? Could you love him like that? Would you forgive him, then?”

The Impaler flashed through Bel’s mind, and she had her answer. When he told her about his past, she’d fled the house with her dog, choosing to sit out in the cold rather than be near him while she processed his reality. And she’d been expecting a horrible truth. How would she have reacted if she thought Eamon was human, only to learn that history remembered him as the man who guarded his castle with the corpses of his staked enemies?

“So, you see,” Olivia said, reading Bel’s answer in her eyes. “I can’t forgive him.”

She left, signaling the end of their ceasefire, and Bel rubbed her chest as if the friction could stop the aching. Her partner’s words promised she wouldn’t forgive Ewan, but there was an underlying message to her frustration. She couldn’t forgive any of them, Bel included.

“Olivia, wait!” Bel chased after her partner. She might not forgive them, but Bel would be damned if she let Olivia ignore her. If she intended to hold a grudge, she’d have to do so up close and personal.

“I’m going to stop by the bed-and-breakfast,” Bel continued when she caught up. “Come on, I’ll drive.”

Olivia tried to protest, but Bel strode for the front door and held it open expectantly. At a loss for how to refuse, Olivia caved, and the women climbed into the SUV. It was the first time they’d been in thesamevehicle since Bel’s resurrection. They didn’t talk as they drove, though, but Bel hoped that if she forced Olivia to endure enough awkward moments, her friend might cave and agree to a genuine conversation that didn’t involve her storming off.

“What’s going on?” Olivia asked, jerking Bel out of her thoughts as they pulled into the bed-and-breakfast’s parking lot. The pavement was alive with activity, and she dared to hold her breath. Had the cast and crew finally seen reason? Had they agreed to halt filming and leave town?

“Taron?” Bel rolled down the window as the actress rushed by. “What’s going on?”

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