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A stroll through the woods during the day is adventurous, peaceful, and rejuvenating. A stumbling tromp through the woods in the dead of night was downright unsettling. The heavy tree coverage blocked out any chance of the moon or stars lighting our way. In order to conceal ourselves, the cell phone light and flashlight would only be used in an emergency situation. With each blind step, my overactive mind chanted, Spiderwebs, snakes, and critters, oh my!
At least you have shoes on, Chiquita.
“Remember, Cuff, you’re the one who wanted to come.”
“Huh?” Mr. Peters mumbled.
“Sorry, I’m talking to myself,” I said.
Good save, Chiquita.
Lucky for us, a sparse layer of gravel covered the ground under our feet. I assumed we were on an old driveway leading to a house or cabin. Good thing I’d opted to leave Gertie’s bowling shoes on. My high-heeled camo boots wouldn’t serve me well for sleuthing in the woods.
I reached over and found his hand. “How’re you doing, Mr. Peters?”
“Fine, Ms. Steely.” He squeezed my hand.
This was the second time Mr. Peters and I held hands during a stressful situation. The first time was back at Christmastime when we both were needed to ID someone in a lineup. Mr. Peters had been so nervous, he’d clutched my hand during the process. Though at the present moment, I sought his support.
After a few minutes, a light appeared ahead of us in the pitch-black.
“There he is,” I said. “Let’s get a little closer and use the binoculars to see what he’s up to.”
“But we’re not approaching the house, right? We shouldn’t confront him, Ms. Steely. He seemed very agitated at the bowling alley earlier.”
“We won’t. But we don’t want to alert the police until we figure out what he’s doing back here. It’d be my luck to jump the gun. He may have a valid reason for being back here. Maybe Vin rented a house from Little Bob, and he’s moving out like Little Bob told him to.”
“Right, as Citizens on the Watch, we don’t want to look foolish,” Mr. Peters said.
“Exactly.” We also don’t want to get too far from my car, I thought. Glancing behind, I couldn’t see the VW. But through the shrubbery and trees, I saw twinkles from the courtyard lighting at the brewery. We’d be able to pinpoint a direction back.
We should have left a trail of dog kibble, Chiquita. I’d sniff our way back to the car.
Like in a fairytale. Good idea, little buddy.
Or a bacon trail. Speaking of bacon, I smell it.
Bacon? Maybe the scent is coming from the brewery.
“Did you hear that?” Mr. Peters asked, interrupting my inner dialogue with Cuff.
“Hear what?” I asked.
Cuff rattled a soft growl. I hear something too, Chiquita.
I listened. “I hear crickets and music streaming from the brewery.”
Mr. Peters tugged my hand, pulling me to a stop. “No. It sounded like a branch snap. Over there, to our left.”
Chiquita, something is walking in the tree line. Chihuahuas have superb hearing. Did you know a Chihuahua has eighteen different muscles in each ear?
“Interesting tidbit. But I’m sure it’s an animal, a deer probably.” This was deer country, so the chances were high.
Something rustled in the brush on our left.
“Okay, I heard that.”
“Good, because I was afraid my imagination was starting to play tricks on me. The sound seemed closer this time.”
Chiquita, I think it’s following us. And I definitely smell bacon.
Cuff, get your head out of the frying pan. I need your senses to focus, not squirrel around.
But I am focusing my senses. On bacon.
I peered into the shadowy, dense woods as Cuff tested the air with his nose. Hoping an animal would emerge and ease our troubled thoughts, a snap followed by leaves shuffling came from close by. I dropped Mr. Peters’s hand and whirled around in a circle. I saw nothing by darkness.
“Ms. Steely, I don’t like this.”
Me either, I thought. “Let’s stop here and take a peek with the binoculars. No matter what we see, we’ll return to the car and figure out our next move.”
“Good idea,” he said.
I second the idea, Chiquita. My doggy sense tells me Mr. Peters is very fearful right now.
Ugh. I mentally kicked myself. What had I been thinking to drag Mr. Peters out here in the dark, chasing my suspicions?
I focused the binoculars and homed in on the area ahead of us. I repeated everything I observed aloud to Mr. Peters and Cuff. Somehow, talking made the moment less scary and calmed my nerves.
“It’s a small log cabin. All the interior lights are on. The front porch is well-lit. Vin’s car is parked out front, but it appears empty. I guess he’s inside the house. I don’t see the Frenchies.”
Cuff growled, pressing against the back of my calf.
“Shh, Cuff! I’m trying to concentrate. Okay, I don’t see anyone near the windows or anyone standing outside. There are no other vehicles around—”
Um, Chiquita, you better turn around.
“Cuff, hold on a second. Okay, I’m assuming Vin took the dogs inside. I don’t see any sign of them outside of the cabin.”
Someone clapped behind us. “Bravo,” a familiar male voice said.
Spinning around, I knocked into Mr. Peters and dropped the binoculars. Cuff shot forward, snarling.
“Cuff, come back here!” I called.
A voice chuckled in the darkness. “Hello, my little friend.”
Oh, it is you. Ah, I knew I smelled bacon! Cuff made smacking sounds. Nom, nom, nom.
“Who’s out there?” I asked, fumbling to get my cell phone out of my back pocket. “Cuff, who is it, little buddy?” I switched on the keychain flashlight. Its beam didn’t travel far. I couldn’t locate Cuff or whoever just fed him bacon.
My friend and he has bacon! Nom. Nom. Nom.
Cuff’s friend with bacon treats ... Vin? Why is he creeping up on us?
Mr. Peters took my hand again.
Still pointing the flashlight in the direction Cuff darted, Vin appeared. Grinning, he walked toward us, dressed in black jeans, black combat boots. Cuff trotted beside him, licking his chomps.
We’re friends, Chiquita!
I read Vin’s graphic tee as they approached. “I paused my game to be here.” I don’t know why his habit of gaming concerned me, but it did. Because if he thought life was a game, we could be in serious trouble.
“Oh, it’s only The Vinster, Ms. Steely,” Mr. Peters said. I could tell he was trying to play this off, so I joined in.
“Right, right. Hey, Vin. How’re you doing? I see you found Cuff. Thanks! He ran off from the parking lot.”
No, I didn’t. Cuff barked in my direction.
“Right,” Vin said, advancing a couple of steps. With his hand, he shielded the flashlight beam from his eyes. “Your light’s blinding me.” I detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
I lowered the flashlight slightly. Even in the dim light, I saw the look on his thin face. It sent shivers down my spine. A devious smirk. Dark, unmoving shark eyes. Chin down. Between his lurking behavior and his menacing appearance. It was a mixture of The Grinch and Satan.
“Who’s with you, Steely? Is it Cleo Peters?” Vin asked.
“Yes, I took Mr. Peters bowling. We thought we’d stop by Little Bob’s and grab a drink. But Cuff took off,” I said, my arms breaking out in chills. “We came out here to find him.”
“Huh,” Vin said, bobbing his head. “So, you two aren’t following me?”
“Nope. Just a couple of friends out having fun,” I answered, attempting to stuff down the panic bubbling up from my gut.
“I see.” Vin crossed his arms, glowering.
From Vin’s sardonic tone, I knew he was toying with us. And we didn’t have much longer before he made a move.
Cuff slinked over toward us. Chiquita, I am sensing my friend is angry with you. You might want to call in backup now.