Left to Kill (Adele Sharp #4) - Blake Pierce Page 0,46
lamb,” Mrs. Klose exclaimed, now stroking his hand with hers. “So sorry to hear that.”
“We couldn’t handle society after our loss,” said Mr. Klose. “We decided to live off-grid. I bought this small parcel. We pulled a modular cabin up here and set it on the mountainside. We grow our own food, we have a septic tank and a cistern to collect rain and some groundwater. We even have a well, though it’s not finished yet.”
The Sergeant nodded as he listened.
He glanced around the small cabin again, and through the windows. He caught glimpses of the trees beyond.
To be living in the forest like this, he felt a small flash of envy. But also respect. There were very few who were bold enough to cut their roots. To replant.
“I saw the garden,” he said. “It’s very nice.”
Mrs. Klose patted him on the hand. “Thank you. We spend a lot of time with it. Sometimes we have help. Others that live around these parts.”
“Children sometimes,” said the gray-haired man, without blinking. “Friends. Family. They come visit on occasion. They help with the gardening once a month or so. They like the fresh air. But for the most part they stay in the city.”
The woman smiled sadly. “One day… one day, we hope they’ll come out here and move here permanently. But that takes time. It’s hard to learn a new lifestyle.”
Both of them nodded knowingly at each other. And the Sergeant couldn’t help but nod in agreement. He thought to withdrew his hand from the table, where Mrs. Klose’s fingers still brushed his knuckles. But, to his shame, he kept it there. “Well, whatever you do, and whoever helps—they certainly do so with care. I didn’t see anything out of place. It’s a perfect garden.”
“Everyone is very careful. It’s a small little rule we have around here,” the woman said, smiling again. “I don’t really like it when people break my plants. They’re friends of mine.” She gave a disarming chuckle, and finally removed her hand from the back of the Sergeant’s.
It was like a spell was broken. The Sergeant suddenly felt a flash of embarrassment. He cleared his throat and began to push away from the table.
“I’m sorry. The food was great. But honestly, I should be going. There’s more territory to cover. Keep an eye out. And, just be safe. What you have here is very nice. Not everyone gets to find such joy in life.”
The Kloses bid him farewell, standing in the doorway as he turned to leave.
It was only after he stepped past the final patch of the garden that the door shut behind him. The Sergeant turned away from the cabin and stalked back up the trail, along the forest. As he moved, he glanced through a portion of the garden. He spotted a small, circular stone structure. The well, it looked like. The husband had said it wasn’t functional.
The Sergeant paused, realizing he hadn’t asked for the husband’s name.
He supposed that was just another small freedom they had. No need for names, no need for society, no need for more rules and structures and stress. Perhaps he should look into buying a piece of land. Maybe even nearby?
He chuckled to himself and shook his head. Stupid idea. He moved past the well, along the trail of small saplings, and back out toward the main portion of forest to continue his search.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Morning brought a brief respite from the chill wind. Adele once more stood on the highway near the crime scene. The traffic cones had been moved, and the caution tape torn down. Every few minutes, a couple of cars would zip by, one way or the other, a blur of motion against the backdrop of green and brown. The snow from the previous day had melted. The ground was still frost, but a few beams of sunlight, tolerated by the wisps of clouds, warmed the area, enough so Adele’s breath didn’t fog where she stood by the trees.
She watched as the groups of volunteers placed their orange jumpers back on. She watched as whistles were handed out once more, and dogs strained at their leashes, excited to move through the woods again.
She listened to the coordinator on her black microphone, her voice blaring from the car, calling out, “Leave any personal items you’re worried about carrying in your cars. Lock the doors. Make sure not to leave the group. Yesterday, we had one of our own disappear. People are still looking, and we’re going