11:40 a.m.
It has been a day and a half, and Taylor hasn’t called. So I will do the only thing I can think of to protect myself: I’ll hide my sweethearts’ mementos. I can’t bear to leave them somewhere unfamiliar, so I’ll utilize the “investment” cabin that has yet to pay for itself. If police come for me, it will only buy me a little time.
I hate parking in the front because the walk is long. So I drive at a snail’s pace to the back—fully snowed in. I park at the edge of the woods, which is closer to the cabin, but not enough. Well, so much for being here without anyone seeing my car.
I leave my coat on the seat, as I don’t want to have to throw more clothes away when I get home. Within steps, I see the porch. Smoke is coming from the chimney, and the curtains are open. I freeze. What? I take a second to walk back and put the tote bag full of cherished memories in the car. Better safe than sorry.
Now, to find out who the hell is in my cabin.
It takes some finagling to look into the windows without being seen. When I do, my hand flies to my mouth. Seeing her face is like being slapped. Adelynn Bailey. Taylor rented our cabin to Adelynn Bailey—without knowing, right? No one would be that stupid.
In a split decision, I choose to go home. I see the benefits of snatching her life, though it would be more messy than beneficial. She’s already swept up in another investigation. Killing her could draw attention to me. Unless necessary, Adelynn is a loose end I’ll have to leave frayed.
Backing away, I avoid branches and leaves. But I can’t fade into the trees; my red shirt in the snow is a joke, and I’m so close to the window. I duck down, about to military crawl to my car, when I hear a voice. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Shit. No. This could ruin everything. At least I don’t have my sweethearts’ things with me. Spotted, it’s either run or stay. Running may involve the police. I make another snap decision and make myself known. I’ll tell her a half-truth.
The deadbolt clicks, and Adelynn Bailey rushes outside. Idiot. I wish I’d come with a ribbon. “Who are you?” she calls again. “What do you want?”
As if I’m talking to a sweetheart, I soften my tone. “I’m so sorry.” I step forward. “I didn’t mean to scare you! I came to check on the place and was very surprised to see you in it. I had no idea Taylor had rented it. That’s why I was sneaking away; I didn’t want to scare you. I see by that iron poker in your hand, it didn’t work.” Faking a laugh, I imagine Adelynn Bailey swinging her weapon at my face and the metal hook catching my cheek. Would I then have the right to slaughter her?
“Why were you checking on the place? It was a man who rented it to me.” She waivers as she says it. “Who are you?”
“That man’s wife. Well, soon to be ex-wife,” I say with a smile. “I hope to get this in the divorce.” I need to get this in the divorce.
Adelynn stares at me with a hint of recognition. I’ve seen that spark before. “Ah. Well, I’m okay—so is the place. Thank you, though. I appreciate you checking.”
“No problem.” What’s the most normal thing to do here? “Do you think I could get a hot drink of some sort? Hell, whiskey or beer would do. The walk was long.”
She is a reluctant Southern belle. “And without a coat!”
“Thanks for understanding.” I step past her and hear her heart in her throat. Maybe today will go differently than planned after all. I think she says some platitude, but I’m picturing her broken body filling the tub with blood. “I’m Carrie.”
“Jill,” Adelynn replies.
What game is she playing? “Nice to meet you, Jill.”
“I don’t have anything warm, but I have some lukewarm, weak coffee. That okay?” She’s already pouring the dredges of the pot and refilling it.
If I said no, I wonder how she’d respond. So I say, “Of course. If it’s not freezing, it’s better than nothing.”
Her face is away from me, and her body is rigid. Adelynn is scared. I guess I’ll treat her like Jess—half-sweetheart, half-adult. I pop my right ankle, and both knees ache—reminders that I’ve aged.
“Here you go,” she says. “Hope it’s alright.” At best, it’s not cold.
I smile and nod.
“So...” The word floats in front of me like a gnat. Though it’s bothersome, I’m uninterested in addressing it. After three sips of the cool coffee water with grounds in it, she finishes her question. “You walked from your car without a coat?”
“Yep.” And no plan.
Wendy Bailey’s words come out of Adelynn’s mouth, “It’s cold out; you could have gotten sick.”
“I planned on turning the heat on quickly.”
“As you can see, the power’s out. The fire’s still roaring, though,” Adelynn says with a nervous laugh.
“So glad Taylor chopped down those two trees this past summer.” There, I contributed.
Glancing at the cabinet drawers, I’m curious. Did Adelynn move the knife? Is it in the sink or dishwasher? I think she notices my shifting gaze because she wanders back towards the kitchen area and refills an untouched coffee.
“Me too. Don’t know what I’d have done without the wood. I’ll reimburse you for it, of course.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” I coo. If Adelynn were my sweetheart, I’d brush her hair away from her face. “It’s part of renting a cabin.” This, I believe, is the time in a visit when I either leave or come up with a topic of interest.
“I collect sweethearts. What do you do?” That’s not great. “Do they have any leads on the person who killed that woman someone buried so closely to my Lori?” I’m bad at small talk. I don’t care enough to do it, usually. I need to bide time. I want that knife. Once it’s in my hand, I can make another big decision of the day—one I thought I’d already made. But an opportunity has presented itself.