“Who was it?” he asks.

  “Well, that’s kind of the problem. I don’t know. He collapsed when I opened the door and died on the porch. That’s how I ended up getting picked up by the police and brought to the station to meet the delightful Chief LaRoche.”

  He fills his own cup of beer and holds it up to me in a toast.

  “Now that is an entrance,” he says.

  I hold my glass up toward his and bow my head slightly. “Thank you. I try my best.”

  “Did you find out what happened to him?” he asks. “Was it a heart attack or something?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll find out more when they do the examination on him, but I highly doubt it was a heart attack. He was bleeding.”

  Jake’s face darkens slightly.

  “Bleeding?” he asks. “Did the police seem concerned about that? Did they mention anything about it?”

  He seems suddenly aggressive, like the idea of this stranger being hurt is seriously upsetting him.

  “Not specifically. They were obviously worried about someone being dead on the porch, and they asked me a lot of questions, but they didn’t say anything directly about it,” I tell him.

  He’s looking down at his feet like he’s trying to get his thoughts together, but then suddenly lifts his head to look at me.

  “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to say that.”

  “Is something wrong?” I gently prod, seeing how much he’ll reveal to me.

  “Don’t know if it’s something you really want to be hearing about on your first night here,” he says.

  “It’s alright. I can handle it,” I offer.

  He shakes his head again, tipping his glass to gently tap the rim against mine.

  “On to better things. Where are you staying?” he asks.

  I don’t show my disappointment, but keep up the conversation, hoping to guide it back to the situation in the town.

  “A cabin by the lake in the woods,” I say with a laugh. “Out near Rattlesnake Point.”

  “I know where that is. It’s a cute little place from what I’ve seen of it.”

  “Well, that brings me to a very important question… are there actually rattlesnakes around here?” I ask.

  Jake laughs and shakes his head. “No. You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t know exactly why it has that name, but those cabins up there are nice and quiet, even if they’re usually empty. It’s nice to know someone is giving the place some life. How long are you planning on being here? Or are you just passing through?”

  “I’m not sure exactly how long. I don’t have a specific end date in mind. Coming here is kind of a fresh start for me. I’m looking for a re-do in life, I guess you could say. I want somewhere a bit calmer and more peaceful, so I can have some time to think.”

  “I hope it’s nothing too terrible you’re getting away from,” he says.

  I shake my head. “No. Nothing too bad. Just a relationship that went on longer than it should have and didn’t end on good terms, a dead-end job I hated but hung onto because I didn’t know any better, and a general feeling of not knowing who I am and what I should be doing with my life.”

  “I know a little bit about that feeling,” he commiserates. “Frustrating, isn’t it?”

  “It definitely is. So, I sold a bunch of things, stuffed everything else in storage, took my savings, and left. I came here on a recommendation, and I’ll see where the wind takes me.”

  “Hopefully, it won’t take you very far,” he says.

  An unexpected blush warms my cheeks, and I turn to look over my shoulder, pretending to be taking in my surroundings while I wait for my face to cool. When I turn back, Jake is talking to a guy sitting on the other side of the bar, giving me a chance to look him over. His brown hair is long, brushing his shoulders, and his frame is tall and strong, but not overly big. The guy he’s talking to says something, and Jake drops his head back to let out a laugh. The sound is full and round, untethered as he lets it pour out rather than measuring and controlling it the way Greg often did.

  I shouldn’t be thinking about Greg right now. Being distracted by his disappearance has already cost me enough. Creagan made it very clear I’m not to try to inject myself into the investigation and to stay back and out of the way of the team already on it. I’m too close to the situation to be an appropriate and valuable part of the force and need to trust the others to do their job. It’s hard but being here should be a way for me to step away from it. Back in the field, I have something to concentrate on and can let my rapid thoughts be productive rather than just filled with questions and worry.

  Jake comes back to me. “Hungry?”

  “A little,” I nod.

  “Savory or sweet?” he asks.

  “Sweet,” I tell him.

  He winks at me and heads into the kitchen. The wink makes my cheeks burn again, and I down the rest of the beer to chase the feeling away. A few seconds later, the door to the bar opens, and the officer who was working with Nicolas comes in. He glances around, and when we make eye contact, he crosses to me.

  “Emma Monroe?” he asks.

  The name still sounds strange. I’ll have to talk to Creagan about my undercover names from now on. But I nod.

  “Yes. You saw me at the cabin not two hours ago,” I point out.

  “I’ve come to tell you it’s safe to go back to the cabin now,” he says, ignoring the comment.

  Jake has come out of the kitchen, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice him staring at the officer.

  “Safe to go back? What’s going on?” he asks.

  “It’s nothing,” I assure him. “Chief LaRoche didn’t want me to go back while they were still processing the scene. But they’ve apparently removed the body.”

  A woman eavesdropping on the interaction gasps, and we all look her way.

  “Body?” she sputters. “Did you just say body? Someone else has died? Who was it?”

  “Did you just say someone else died?” a man asks from the next table.

  “It’s happening again?” comes another voice.

  “Dear god. No,” says a fourth.

  The situation is quickly getting out of hand, and the officer holds up his hands to try to stop them. When they don’t respond, Jake climbs up on a step ladder and lets out a loud, piercing whistle.

  “Everybody be quiet. Listen to Barry here.”

  A hush falls over the bar, and the officer nods at Jake.

  “Thank you, Jake. Now, folks, I don’t want anybody to panic. This isn’t what it sounds like. Yes, there has been a death.” Just the word starts another ripple of reaction moving through the crowd, and he raises his voice slightly. “But we have no reason to believe it has any connection to the others. There is no sign of any link, and according to findings from processing the scene and the medical examiner giving an initial look at the body, it does not seem to have any relation. Everyone is safe. Please, just relax and go back to enjoying your evening.”

  The message appeases the crowd, and they dissipate back to their tables and booths. The officer turns back to me.

  “I’ll be bringing you back to the cabin now,” he says.

  “Actually, I’ll just stay here for a while longer. Thank you, though,” I reply.

  “Chief LaRoche gave me clear instructions to find you, make sure you knew it was safe to return to your cabin and bring you back there,” he insists.

  “Well, you have found me and made sure I knew. But I don’t need you to bring me. There’s really no reason I need to be doing what he tells me, so I’ll just thank you for the offer, and you can tell him you tried so he knows you were trying to follow his orders,” I tell him.

  He looks like he’s about to say something else, but Jake puts his hand on the bar and leans slightly toward him.

  “Hey, Barry. Two out of three ain’t bad, buddy. Alright?” he says.

  The officer gives a single nod and walks out of the bar. I turn back to Jake and smile at him.

  “Thank you, again,” I say. “You are certainly very good at swooping into uncomfortable situations.”

  “It’s a gift,” he shrugs. “Actually, it’s a life skill for a bartender. But I’m happy to use it for you anytime you need it.”

  He puts a plate down in front of me. A scoop of vanilla bean ice cream melting between two massive chocolate chip cookies, all topped with a mound of whipped cream and just enough of a drizzle of hot fudge. It’s amazing. I can’t stop myself from swirling my finger in it and licking it off.

  “This looks incredible,” I marvel.

  “Enjoy,” he says.

  A few minutes later, Jake comes back up to me and leans to the side, so he rests on his elbow against the bar.

  “Things seem to be quieting down,” I tell him.

  “Can I take you home?” he offers.

  “Look, Jake. I really appreciate you being so welcoming and everything, but…”

  “Hey, Jake. Have space to take me home tonight?” a man calls from several feet away.

  “Sure thing, Conrad,” he calls back.

  “Drop me off on the way?” another asks.

  “If you can both fit in my car. Don’t have my truck with me today,” he teases, then looks back at me. “I give rides to people who have been hanging out here and need a way to get home, or who might have had one too many.”

  I cover my face with my hands.

  “I am so sorry,” I say. “I sound like a lunatic. I thought you were flirting with me. Um, if you could bring me my check, I’m just going to slink out into the darkness and try to disappear.”

  He laughs. “You don’t sound like a lunatic. I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of indecent proposals at bars. I don’t blame you for being a little bit cautious. There’s no check.”

  He ducks his head slightly closer to mine as he takes my empty dessert plate. “And that is me flirting with you.”

  Chapter Five

  I hang around the bar with the bartenders and the lingering customers as Jake starts his rounds of bringing people home. I agreed to his ride, but I'll be the last of the night. I don't mind. Sitting here looking out over the people gives me the opportunity to start getting a feel for Feathered Nest and those who live here.

  I was fully anticipating the uncertainty at my arrival. People always think of the inhabitants of small Southern towns being hospitable and welcoming. But there's a tremendous difference between hospitality toward guests and visitors, and openly trusting and welcoming those who may linger around. Especially for people who have grown up in very small, isolated towns like this one, new people are reason to be suspicious. If you can't connect at least a few dots and prove some sort of link to the area, you don't belong.

  The backstory I rambled out to the police chief and to Jake gave me a fake relative in a nearby town, but that's enough to give me credibility. I'm going to have to ease into their existence and earn their trust. That starts with learning about them and the way of life in the town. I'm drawn into watching the conversations unfolding and the slivers of life happening in all corners of the bar. Couples stare at each other, seeming to have lost all awareness of the rest of the world around them. New couples are at the brink of forming between people paired up on the dance floor swaying, even though the music volume has been turned down to nearly inaudible in preparation for closing. People sit alone, decompressing from their day, longing for someone, or enjoying time on their own, thinking of what to do next. Friends carry on like they have the rest of the night even though last call was half an hour ago, and soon the bar will close.

  I'm so drawn into watching them I barely even notice when that Jake gets back. He steps up beside me, and I jump slightly.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

  “It's fine. I'm not usually so jumpy,” I tell him.

  “Nobody can blame you. When your welcoming committee to a new town consists of a dead body, people are going to give you a little bit of leeway when it comes to jangly nerves. Are you ready to get going?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Jake reaches out, so his hand hovers a few inches away from my back as I get down from the stool. He uses the presence of that hand, not touching me, but right there, close enough that I can sense it, to guide me out of the bar and to a car waiting at the curb. He walks around the front of the car to the passenger seat with me. He opens the door, holding it for me as I climb inside. The sharply cold air coming from outside follows me into the car, and I shiver.

  “Don't worry,” he says as he gets behind the wheel and notices my shaking. “The heat gets going fast.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him as he turns the engine over, and we start toward the cabin. “I really appreciate this.”

  “Not a problem. It'll make me feel better to know you got back safely. You've only been here a day so you can't know the town well, yet. Rattlesnake Point is a little bit out there. It would be easy to get lost trying to make your way through those woods at night.”

  “I'm sure it would be,” I agree. We fall silent for a few seconds before I speak again. “So, giving people rides home is a normal thing for you?”

  He nods without looking at me. “I've always given the occasional ride here and there to people who needed it, but over the last few months, it's become a much more regular thing.”

  “Why is that?” I ask.

  That makes him glance my way for a few seconds before he looks back through the windshield.

  “You mean, you don't know?”

  “I don't know what?”

  “I thought everybody knew about Feathered Nest and what's been going on around here. But I guess that only makes sense. Why would you agree to come out here when you're looking for something calm if you did know?” he asks, almost to himself.

  “You lost me somewhere,” I frown. Of course I know, I just need to keep up the act.

  “Oh, I'm sorry. Now I'm the one who sounds like a lunatic. It's just… Feathered Nest has built up its own reputation recently.”

  “Why?”

  He hesitates, not seeming to want to go any further.

  “Because of the disappearances,” he tells me.

  “What disappearances?” I ask, readying myself to absorb as much information as he'll give me.

  “I don't want to talk about them tonight. You're about to go into a cabin in just about the middle of nowhere completely by yourself. I don't want to scare you.”

  “But I want to know,” I insist.

  He looks at me again, and a hint of a smile plays at his lips.

  “You sure are persistent. You know that?” he asks.

  “I might have been told a time or two,” I grin.

  “Well, I'll tell you what. I'm not going to get into it tonight before you go to bed. But if you'll meet me for breakfast in the morning, I'll tell you everything.”

  “Is this another one of those deals like me drinking a beer and telling you about my brush with the law?” I ask.

  “That worked out well for me,” he shrugs. “I figured I might as well try it again.”

  “Where should we meet?”

  “Mary Belle's. It's a little place on Main Street. Can't miss it. Has the best breakfast in town.”

  “I'll meet you there at 7:30,” I say.

  “Sounds good to me,” Jake nods. The car crunches along the drive up the road. There are several cabins out here, but each one is so remote from one another that mine might as well be the only one around for miles. The cabin I’m in is the closest one to the lake.

  “Which one are you?” Jake asks, keeping his eyes peeled in the darkness as we continue on.

  “Number 13,” I say. “Very last one.”

  Finally, we get to the very end of the road. He stops in the glow of the light at the side of the porch.

  “Thank you, again. I'll see you in the morning,” I tell him.

  I climb out of the car and walk up the steps onto the porch. Ice gleams on the wooden boards where someone rinsed away the signs of blood. Jake is still sitting in his car watching me, waiting for me to get inside, so I don't hesitate long. Unlocking the cabin door, I step inside and turn back to wave goodbye to him. He waves and starts backing out of the driveway as I shut the door and lock it.

  What a day. Despite everything running through my brain, I can’t stay awake for one more minute. I try my best to put it all aside and collapse onto the bed.

  The next morning I'm up before the sun doing a final read-through of the notes Creagan gave me before I came here. When the disappearances first started, the police department tried to launch an investigation and look into it. But they weren't really prepared for a case like that. People around here don't just disappear. There's the occasional runaway or someone who gets mad at their spouse and stalks out for a few days, but they always come back. This is the first time in recent memory people were vanishing and just not returning. The more people who disappeared, the harder it was for the department. They didn't know what to do or how to follow the clues left in each circumstance.

  In my opinion, it took far too long for them to make the connections between the disappearances. While most of the time, people don't want to think of strings of events or occurrences having to do with one another, it's important to find these links. The sooner you make the connections between individual cases, the faster you'll be able to find the right path to solving it.

  In looking over the cases, something that stands out to me immediately is the crime scenes from each disappearance. Often when a person disappears, it goes unnoticed. Even if it's for just a short time, there's a stretch when nobody realizes they're gone because nothing has gone amiss. Nothing looks strange or different, and the only way they realize that person is missing is because they don't show up somewhere they're supposed to be. It's not the same with these cases. Instead, there's a distinct crime scene associated with almost all of them. In the last place these people were, police noted blood and signs of a struggle.