The digging’s stopped. My heart seems to have stopped with it.
Footsteps.
Coming closer.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, not daring to breathe…
He passes right by me. I watch his lumbering silhouette disappear into the forest. Only when the sound of his footsteps fade do I dare to breathe again.
I wait another five minutes just to be safe. Then I rise silently and step hesitantly into the clearing.
The moonlight on the river brightens the scene a little, illuminating the ground where dark earth has been turned up.
A grave?
I go down to my knees and run my fingers across the loose, cold loam.
I’m hesitant to dig with my bare hands. What if I touch the body? But unless I dig, I’ll never get the proof I’m after.
“Be strong, Frances,” I murmur. “You’ve come this far…”
I start to dig. Then behind me, the click of a gun.
“Thought I sensed someone sneaking around out here.”
I freeze. My blood runs cold.
“Get up,” he orders. “Turn around. Slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
My heart’s in my throat. I have no choice but to do as he says. I lift my hands and rise from my position, turning slowly to look my assailant in the eye.
He chokes when he sees me. So do I.
“Miss Porter?”
“Sam!”
Our mechanic lowers his gun instantly, holsters it beneath his coat.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for a dead body.”
His eyes widen in the moonlight; he laughs a little in disbelief.
“What?”
“Didn’t you hear about it during the party?”
“I wasn’t at the party. Miss Porter, that is, your sister, Miss Porter, told me not to mess up her party’s ambiance with my poor looking face and to keep out of sight, so I stayed in the garage the whole time.”
That does sound like something Louise would say. Then I suppose it would make sense Sam hasn’t heard about it.
“I found Harrison Squire, a friend of mine, murdered during the party and everyone went looking for him.”
“You found a dead man?”
“That’s right. Only the killer moved the body afterwards and they all accused me of lying. So I went to get proof.”
“You’re telling me you came out here in the dark with a killer on the loose to find a corpse?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re gutsier than I’d have given you credit for, Miss Porter.”
“You can call me Frances, you know. Everyone else does.”
“Oh,” his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, “I couldn’t do that, Miss Porter.”
I sniff a little, straightening.
“Anyway, I’ve already found one good clue. Look,” I say, pulling the bullet from my pocket. “I found that where the body was before. Everyone missed it, but I found it. You were in the army, right? Tell me what kind of bullet this is.”
Sam takes it and turns it over in his hand.
“It’s homemade. Heavy. This is a sniper bullet.”
I snatch it back from him with a triumphant grin, and his eyes widen slightly at the sight.
“I knew it! Harrison was holding a sniper rifle when I found him. This must have slipped out of his pocket when the killer moved him. And I think—if we dig a little—we’ll find the body right here!”
Sam shakes his head. “Sorry to spoil your big reveal, Miss Porter, but that’s one mystery I can solve for you easily enough. I’m the one who dug that hole.”
“You? But why? What for?”
He shrugs. “Earl told me this was a good place to get rid of junk before it starts to clutter up the garage. There’s probably all kinds of stuff buried back here, seeing as how it’s his old dumping ground.”
“His dumping ground? Why would he show you something like that?”
“I worked with him a day or two before he retired; he taught me the ropes. He was a good man who cared about his job a great deal. And you, if I’m not mistaken, Miss Porter.”
“We… were a little close,” I say, alarmed to find myself softening so much after hearing him speak of his predecessor. I mustn’t let my guard down. I have no reason to trust this man, I remind myself. After all, I hardly know him.
“You said you came out here to bury junk.”
“That’s right.”
“Prove it.”
He blinks at me.
“Show me what you buried here.”
Sam smirks faintly. Then he goes over to the maple tree I was hiding behind before and grabs a shovel propped against it. I watch him dig for a minute. Then his shovel strikes something. He stoops to move the earth around, and he pulls up an old bald tire.
“Do I need to dig up the other three? I don’t mind, if it will put your mind at ease.”
I shake my head, feeling a bit stupid, and he starts to bury the tire once again.
“Sorry to make you do it all twice.”
“It’s alright. I understand you’d be jumpy, witnessing something like that.”
I brighten a little. “Does that mean you believe me?”
Sam straightens. “Why else would a fancy lady like you be out here all by yourself in the middle of the night? If you say you saw a dead man, you saw a dead man.”
“Right. Now the only question is— who’s the killer?”
Sam finishes burying the tire and brings the shovel up to rest on his shoulder.
“That sounds like the sort of question you should leave to the police. A lady could get hurt, looking into something like that.”
“Not if she had a reliable bodyguard,” I say pointedly, and he lifts one of his severely angled brows.
“I’m just a mechanic, Miss Porter, and a part time chauffeur.”
“With a gun?”
He studies me intently in the darkness, seeing I don’t know what. There’s something unsettling about his eyes, I remember thinking it before. They’re keen, like daggers, pinning me in place. There’s nowhere I can run from that gaze.
“I don’t always carry,” he says at length. “Only every now and again. As a precaution.”
“Precaution against what?”
“Bad guys, I suppose.”
“And did you figure on running into any bad guys tonight? While you were out burying tires?”
He grins and the sight sets my heart beating just a little quicker.
“You’re sharp,” he declares. “And nosy.”
“I’m trying to catch a killer, Sam. And I need your help.”
Ultimately it doesn’t matter to me why he carries a gun. But after my experience tonight, I’ve learned a little security goes a long way. And there’s no way I could ever handle a gun.
“Look, I’m not going to be your little private eye. I shouldn’t have to remind you I have a job to do that takes up most of my day.”
“That’s fine. Just promise me you’ll have my back next time I need to go wandering in the woods after dark.”
“You’re seriously asking me to be your bodyguard?”
“That’s right.”
His smile starts again, spreading slowly across his face. Somehow, the motion takes his average looks and elevates them to something just a bit… dazzling.
“You’re awfully demanding of a fella, you know that?”
“I could make it worth your while.”
“No, no, I couldn’t take your money. But I won’t let you come to harm, Miss Porter. On that, you have my word.”
Comments (0)
See all