which revealed it was 2:00 a.m.
“Another sleepless night,” I grumbled to myself as I sat up and stretched, encouraging the large yawn, which took control of my mouth. “You see that, brain?” I continued, trying not to worry about the fact that I was having a conversation with myself. “That means your body is tired and wants to go back to sleep.”
“Meow, meow, meow,” Gus added from where he was curled up on the foot of my bed.
“And no more from you!” I reprimanded the incorrigible cat. “You’ve already eaten twice tonight! With how expensive Fancy Feast is, you’re going to eat us right into the poor house!”
Gus emitted a low, guttural sound that made it seem like he’d gotten my gist and then he dropped his white, furry head back onto his paws and went back to sleep. Lucky him. For myself, I was well aware that the incessant thoughts going through my head would disallow me from visiting the Land of Nod again anytime soon.
“I’m gonna go for a run,” I said to no one in particular. I stood up and reached for my thermal yoga pants, which I’d draped over the chair back just beside my bed. I followed suit with my sports bra, which was a necessity when jogging since the twins weren’t exactly small. Then I secured my conceal-and-carry holster around my waist and slid the Colt .45 into it before pulling my elbow-length blond hair up into a high ponytail… I looked like I Dream of Jeannie. I grabbed my red Nike sweatshirt on my way out of my room, pulling it over my head as I plodded into my living room where I retrieved my matching red sneakers.
“Damn,” I said as soon as I opened the front door and was greeted by the icy cold night. I almost turned tail to retire back into my living room, but I forced myself outside, figuring the exercise would do me good. It was important to stay fit in this line of work. You never knew when you’d have to outrun a felon or a shape-shifter, as the case may be.
I locked the front door behind me and shivering in spite of myself, jogged down my driveway which emptied into Shamrock Street, on which I took a right. Then it was straight uphill for a good quarter of a mile, but that was a great way to warm up my cold and tired muscles.
As I felt the burn of the incline in my calves, I began replaying the facts of the case. John Doe was still John Doe. We hadn’t been able to find a match on his fingerprints or his dental records. It was almost as if he’d never existed. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, that wasn’t as unusual as it might have sounded. Out here, people did manage to live off the grid—if they wanted to badly enough.
I’d searched through the lengthy archives of missing persons, but I hadn’t found anyone who matched John Doe’s description. I figured my next course of action would be to visit the reservation of the Inuit who lived on the outskirts of town, just to see if any of their kin were missing. In general, the Native Americans pretty much kept to themselves, so it wasn’t unusual to find that our database of missing people wasn’t exhaustive.
I could hear my breathing growing ragged, but I continued to force my feet into the pavement, actually loving the burn in my legs. When I reached the top of the hill, I took a few deep breaths before descending the other side. Shamrock Street dead-ended in another twenty feet or so. From there, I could take the dirt path that wound through the densely populated pine trees and eventually led to Vista Lake. Or, I could turn around and go home in hopes I’d get a visit from the sandman.
When I reached the end of the street, I put my hands on my knees and bent over as I tried to catch my breath. Now, it was time to make a decision as to whether to turn around or continue into the woods… the very dark woods. Granted, the moon was full and bright in her rightful place in the sky, but the canopy of the trees overhead was also thick and wouldn’t allow for much light to lead my way.
An image of the dagger in John Doe’s chest suddenly assaulted me as if the operator in my brain