Page 76 of Blackwood

“Shut your yap,” Sheriff Crow’s voice rang out behind me, his heavy footsteps echoing through my mind.

“I’m just saying—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Shut your mouth.” Sheriff Crow gripped me under my right arm and pulled me to my feet. “Winged you, did he?” He turned me around and pushed my back against the tree, then opened my coat and whistled. “That’s worse than a winging, darling.”

I looked down, watching the red stain spread across my top.

Sheriff Crow kicked his hat back on his head and clamped a hand around my throat. “I’d tell you to keep pressure on that, but it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

Mayor Freeman walked closer and leaned in toward my face. “Dumb bitches never listen, do—”

Sheriff Crow’s hand flew in an instant, punching the mayor in the side of the face. The man stumbled back then held a hand to his jaw.

“When I tell you to shut the fuck up, I mean it, Len. Do we have to keep going over this?” Sheriff Crow’s voice had the same friendly tenor it always did. He even smiled a little, as if reminding a small child of the appropriate way to behave.

“Right. Sorry.” The mayor dropped his gaze.

“Good.” He turned back to me, the intelligence I’d seen in his eyes crackling like sparklers. “Now, I think you know what has to happen next.”

“N-No.” I pressed back into the tree, the pain in my abdomen painting everything in a surreal light—the snow too bright white, the earth a dark shadow beneath it.

“I tried.” He ran his fingers across my forehead and through my hair. “I did everything I could. Put your car back on that road so you wouldn’t keep looking for it. Left that body in the woods and claimed a hunting accident to keep you away. Even left you with Garrett so he could scare you off.” He leaned closer, his lips at my ear. “I saw you. In the woods. Saw Garrett fuck you raw. I watched the whole thing.”

“Get off me.” I tried to knee him, but my limbs barely obeyed my commands, my life ebbing out of the wound in my abdomen.

He pulled away from my ear, but leaned close enough for our noses to almost touch. “You know where I went wrong? Iunderestimatedyou. I did the same thing with Lillian and your daddy. They found out about what we do here at the Lodge.” He clucked his tongue. “And they lacked an entrepreneurial spirit.”

“Wh-what do you do?” My teeth chattered as my worst fears began to roll off his tongue.

“We run a hunting lodge. But what we hunt isn’t your average quarry.” He smiled, his eyes glinting. “It’s something special. Something people will pay for. You wouldn’t believe how much they’ll pay tohunthere.”

“The missing persons.” The cork board at the diner, all the names and faces. Too many for such a small area.

“At first.” He nodded. “We had plenty of trash to pick from in the beginning. Then we had to expand our operation. Danny helped out, making sure our special deliveries arrived and were in shape enough to run. These people come here looking for a handout. We give them something better.” He snorted at his own sick joke. “A bullet.”

I stalled. “Rory?”

“He didn’t know. Shame about him, though. You killed him. When he heard your screams in the woods that day—even though I specifically toldDannyto do itquiet”—He twisted his neck until it cracked—“I had to intervene. You got another chance. Then today you dragged him out to the graves.” He shook his head. “Game over.”

“Garrett?”

“That’s the best fucking part.” He laughed. “Had nothing to do with any of it. That basket case’s only mistake in all of this was getting involved with you. When I get done here, I’ll go to his house and hang him the same way I did his sister. Tragic.”

“He’ll kill you.” I pressed harder on my wound, refusing to let go, to give up.

“No, he won’t. He’ll let me in the door like he always does. He’ll leave a nice note detailing why he killed your daddy, poor Danny, and you. Won’t be able to live with the guilt.” He affected a contrite air. “Terrible shame for the community to lose that fucking nutjob.”

“Pete?” The mayor’s tentative voice shocked me out of my horror. I had to fight, to try something.

Sheriff Crow kept staring into my eyes, one hand on my throat. “What?”

“Can I do it?”

“No.” He tightened his grip on my neck, and I tried to grab his wrist. My bloodied hand slid off, but I grasped his coat sleeve.

“Why not?”

“Because she’s mine.” He squeezed harder, my breath gone as his eyes bored into mine.

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