Page 4 of Sinister Secrets

“What are you doing?” he hisses.

“Looking for evidence.”

“Of what?”

“I’m not sure.”

I continue searching, filming every detail until I reach the open gate. A narrow impression has been pushed into the dirt where the bottom rail usually rests. I try tracing where it came from, but the grass conceals the answer. Only the small patch of soil reveals any clues. I zoom in with the camera, taking a close-up of the faint pattern.

“What’s that from?” the sheriff asks.

I shrug. “If I had to guess, I’d say it was made by the front tire on a wheelbarrow. Don’t step on it.”

He gives me a filthy look. “I know how to do my job.”

I grind my tongue painfully between my molars to keep my thoughts on that to myself as I continue forward at a snail’s pace, stepping inside the enclosed area. Chomp’s eyes glow red as he swings his heavy head toward us, watching as I stop just shy of the water’s edge, now close enough to see that the body is a man.

The fact that he’s face down makes it clear that he’s not alive. The purple stains of livor mortis that stipple his back confirm that this isn’t where he died—he’s been flipped over, moved. And the chunk missing from the back of his head suggests that it’s murder.

“You’d better call the medical examiner’s office for a pickup,” I say.

He nods, stepping away to make the call. His muffled voice hums in the background as I scan my surroundings before sinking into a squat. From this angle, I can see the groove made by the wheelbarrow tire along the shore, right next to a long stick that—I suck in a hard breath. Look around frantically, no longer concerned with documenting the scene.

Rise slowly as I spot the faint impressions a small pair of feet have made in the mud. I run different scenarios through my mind, imagining what might have happened.

“Could someone have made their way through the woods between the yards with a wheelbarrow?” I ask Sheriff Kingston as he comes up behind me.

“I don’t see how with all those thorned vines.”

Except the wheelbarrow would have cleared the path, at least momentarily, for the person pushing it. Had that been what had summoned the boy from his bed? The noise made by someone trespassing across his yard with the intent of disposing of a body?

Had curiosity inspired him to follow that person to the pond? Caused him to pick up a stick and poke at the corpse? And after discovering the person was dead, had fear made him hide? Catching the sheriff’s eyes, I point to the footprints.

“Jeffery?” I call softly, walking slowly along the edge of the pond, following their path. “Honey, it’s okay.” I look at the dense cluster of palmettos ahead. “You’re safe now.”

My eyes close briefly as I remember those same words spoken to me less than half an hour ago. And why there was a need for them to be said.

I swallow down a heavy dose of guilt, knowing that I lied. Because the child isn’t safe, not really. None of us are. But he’ll be safer in his mother’s arms than he will out here.

“You can come out, sweetie.” I take a seat on the grass, the dew instantly seeping into the fabric of my shorts. “I know you saw something bad tonight. Something you might not understand. And I know that you must be very scared. I am, too. But do you see this man in the uniform?”

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to tell another lie. “This is Sheriff Kingston. He’s one of the good guys. His job is to keep you safe, just like the police officers on TV.”

A whimper escapes from the brush. I scoot closer.

“Jeffery, no one’s mad. We all know that you didn’t do anything wrong. But your mommy is very, very worried about you. She wants you to come home. Would you like to go home and be with your mommy now?”

I can just barely make out an, “Uh-huh,” carried to my ears on a sob.

“Why don’t you come out so we can see her, then?”

When he doesn’t make a move, I try another angle.

“Do you know where you are, Jeffery? You’re at an animal sanctuary. Do you like animals?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, how about this? How about we go to the barn and meet some of them while we’re waiting for your mommy?”