Page 50 of Nothing Hiding

This was a potentially dangerous situation, and Sierra was not combat trained, so Juliette had instructed her to wait in the car.

The locked car.

Walking in front, noting the state of the path, Juliette was wondering if Matt Doone's presence in these woods was what was keeping people away. It seemed that this odd, unbalanced man had created a state of fear in the village, thanks to his reputation for violent behavior.

As they walked deeper into the woods, the sound of the stream grew louder, and soon, they could see it glinting through the trees. She passed it by walking over a short, wooden bridge, made from dark, gnarled boards, that looked old and weathered but strong.

As they walked, Juliette kept her eyes peeled for any sign of the abandoned cabin. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves underfoot and the occasional chirp of a bird or rustle of a small animal. It was, in other words, a perfect place for a hideout.

Heading deeper into the woods, the atmosphere became more ominous. The trees grew closer together, and the canopy above blocked out most of the light. The air grew damp and musty, filled with the earthy scent of decay and rot. She felt a shiver run down her spine as they walked, feeling like they were being watched by something sinister and unseen.

"What's that ahead?" Wyatt's voice made her jump, even though he'd spoken softly. She'd been immersed in her own observations and trying to fight off the increasingly spooky sensation the woods were giving her.

Now, as the path climbed a hill, she saw what Wyatt had seen. There was a building ahead, in a clearing that was now visible to the right of the path.

It was old, with moss growing on the roof and ivy creeping up the sides, but it still looked solid. Juliette could see why the young man had described it as "abandoned,” but the description wasn’t accurate. A shaft of light was visible from inside.

"Let's go and take a look," she said quietly.

Moving forward, she winced as a stick cracked under her foot, treading toward the cabin as stealthily as she could.

The door was partly open. But inside, it seemed very quiet. She couldn’t hear music, or the thumping of footsteps on the wooden floor, or anything else that might indicate somebody was in there.

Juliette peered through the crack.

Inside, the sight that greeted her was far weirder and more disturbing than even she'd expected.

A massive, hand painted depiction of the Stonehenge stones, crudely rendered on a giant canvas, was propped against the back wall. On it, the artist had added handwritten notes.

"This is the Sacrifice Stone. This is where blood will be spilled."

There didn't seem to be anyone in the cabin at all, so she pushed the door wider and stepped inside.

A flash of red caught her eye, and she whirled around.

The opposite wall of the cabin, where the door was, had been painted a disturbing blood red. Paint seemed to have been thrown at the walls and had trickled down to pool on the floor below. On the red wall was a collage of photos that looked to have been taken from newspaper clippings and printed out from social media sites. And a few scrawled notes too.

"This one will be for the stones on the eastern side,"a handwritten note in sharp, black writing read."This one will be for the heel stone."

All the notes referred to women. All the pictures were of young women, their faces bright and smiling, despite the sometimes fuzzy quality of the print.

Juliette felt her stomach twist. This was a killer's lair. It seemed this man had been using his obsession with Stonehenge to create a stylized plan that would see numerous young women murdered.

"This is creepy," Wyatt said. "Think we got our guy here."

Juliette knew that they had to find Matt Doone before he could carry out his twisted plans.And she was sure that he hadn't gone far. Not when leaving this cabin open and unlocked.

And, as she thought that, there was a crack of a stick from outside, and they both spun around.

There he was. A narrow face, lean and bony, with wild eyes staring at them—eyes that seemed to have a strange, obsessive light behind them. A head of hair that was razored so short that it was nothing more than a hint of color on his scalp. Wearing a green camouflage jacket and brown pants and carrying a length of rope in his hand.

He stared at them, and she saw his expression change from preoccupied to appalled.

"Matt Doone?" she said, stepping forward. "Police. We need you to answer urgent questions about what's in this cabin."

But Matt Doone didn't answer. Without letting out as much as a whisper, he turned and ran.

"We can't let him go!" Juliette shouted, urgency filling her.

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