Bear With Me (Woodland Creek)

by Nicole Blanchard

  “No, I just found her.” Tears sting my nose. “I don’t think there was anything I could do. She didn’t…she was dead.” My voice breaks and I look away, studying the dust-glazed fern in the corner.

  “Can you tell me where she is, so I can send someone over?”

  “Um, I’m not sure exactly, but it was behind Declan Cain’s cabin. There’s a trail behind his house that leads into the forest.”

  She grabs one of those little pointy cups from the water cooler and brings it to me. I cup it with both hands, frowning at how they bloody up the white paper.

  “I’ll be right back,” she says. “I’ll bring you something to clean up with.”

  I don’t know how long she’s gone. When she comes back the water has gone warm in the cup and I haven’t been able to choke any down, no matter how disgusting and dry my mouth feels.

  “A couple of deputies are on their way out to Mr. Cain’s place. Why don’t you take your time? You can tell me what happened when you’re ready.”

  I take a deep breath and manage to sip some of the water before launching into my story of the past hour. Debbie doesn’t visibly react; she just takes notes on one of those yellow legal pads with a careful hand. When I’m done, she takes samples of the blood on my hands and scrapes some of it from my fingernails. She gets a copy of my I.D. and then, finally, allows me to wash off the blood from my hands and arms with wet paper towels.

  “Is there anyone I can call to bring you a change of clothes? I’m afraid it may be a while, and we’re going to need those for evidence.”

  Nodding, I say, “My grandmother. Suzanna Thomas.”

  “Why don’t you give me her number and I’ll give her a call for you?”

  Debbie rises to leave and I stop her with a hand on her arm. “Did they find her? Was she dead?”

  “Yes, they did, Ms. Thomas. She was.”

  After Debbie leaves my stomach pitches and I heave into the trashcan, but there’s nothing left to throw up. I wet one of the leftover paper towels with water from the water cooler and press it against the fevered flesh of my forehead.

  A few minutes later Debbie comes back, this time with Nonna on her heels. Nonna’s face is sheet-white, as are the knuckles around a plastic bag full of clothes.

  “Oh my God, Sullivan.” She rushes inside, but Debbie stops her before she can throw her hands around me.

  “Ma’am. If you’ll give her the change of clothes, she can go to the bathroom and change.”

  Nonna’s face is pained, but she nods, her lips pressing together.

  Debbie instructs me on taking off and storing each piece of clothing. I should be embarrassed getting naked in front of this stranger, but I’m not. The only thing on my mind is the image of that girl’s mangled body. Everything else pales in comparison. Once that’s taken care of, I scrub the rest of my skin furiously with harsh hand soap from the dispenser and the rough brown paper towels feel like sandpaper. When I’m done—my skin an angry shade of red—I still don’t quite feel clean enough.

  I’m not sure if I ever will again.

  Nonna envelopes me in her arms the second I leave the bathroom and I’m too tired to protest. My arms go around her and we stand there for a few minutes until Debbie comes back for a few more questions. For the first time, I don’t try to escape the transference of feelings and memories. Warmth and worry emanate from Nonna and provide me with a much needed moment of strength.

  The yellow legal pad is back and I watch as her pen scratches across its surface. “What were you doing in the woods?” Debbie asks.

  “Looking for my phone. I was on my way to class and didn’t want to leave it in the woods in case it got wet.”

  “So you’d been to the area before this morning.”

  “Yes,” I say, resting my head on my palms because I don’t want to see the look on Nonna’s face as I relate my story. “I was on a date last night and he took me into the woods. We looked at the stars…We weren’t even out there for that long because I have…had an early class this morning.”

  “Around what time would you say you were in the woods?”

  “Maybe nine or so. We went to dinner around seven and stayed for a couple hours before he took me there.”

  “May I have his name, please?”

  “Declan. Declan Cain. His cabin is the one I was telling you about.” Finally, it clicks in my brain why she’s asking. “You don’t think he…that he’s the one that did this, do you?” My stomach heaves again, but I manage to control it. Barely. I thought I knew Declan, even though we’d only seen each other a couple of times. My gift should have taught me that what lies beneath the surface is a different story compared to the airs people put on. But still, a part of me knows he could never do something like this.

  “We’re just getting the facts, Ms. Thomas.”

  When I glance at Nonna, she’s staring at me open-mouthed. My brows furrow. When I catch her gaze she shakes her head. Confused and with a headache brewing, I turn back to the deputy and finish the interview.

  Numb to my bones, I lay my head against the conference table when Debbie leaves again after her last question. As we wait, I wonder what the hell is going on.

  Declan

  I’m used to the whispers that follow me around town. I’m used to the seclusion and loneliness. I expect those things.

  What I didn’t expect was Sully.

  The bell rings signaling another customer. I pause my inventory on a shipment of new reels and glance up. “Afternoon,” I greet one of the county deputies. “Can I help you?”

  “Declan Cain?” he asks without returning my greeting. When he doesn’t look around and doesn’t answer my question, my hackles start to rise.

  “That’s me. What can I do for you?” I try to keep my voice steady, but I can’t say the same for my heartbeat. Something feels off.

  “We’re going to need to talk to you for a minute, sir. Do you mind coming over to the courthouse with us?” Over his shoulder I can see a police car with another deputy leaning against the hood.

  “What is this about?” I ask as I wipe my hands on a cloth.

  “There’s been a murder near your property, and we have a few questions considering the location and your history.”

  I heave a sigh. I knew something like this was going to happen. I just wish it didn’t have to happen now that I’ve met Sullivan. The secrets I keep were bound to get out sooner or later, I just wish it was later.

  “Let me tell my guy that I’ll be out, okay?”

  “Five minutes.”

  I scrub a hand over my beard. This is going to dredge up so many things I’d hoped to keep buried. Things I am not ready to deal with or talk about. Things I don’t want Sullivan to know. At least not yet.

  There’s no need to go searching for Red. I find him standing in the hallway with a menacing look on his face. He’s worked with me since my Dad died and has been a friend of the family for as long as I can remember.

  “What the hell do they want?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “They just have a couple of questions. I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I need to go with them for a while. Can you watch over the shop until I get back?”

  “You don’t even have to ask. I’ll see you when I see you.”

  “I’ll let you know if I’m going to be so late that you’ll need to close up.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Red.”

  Red claps a hand on my back and I turn to go with the deputies.

  The sheriff’s office is already a circus which is my first clue that shit has hit the proverbial fan. I spot Sullivan huddled in the corner with Suzanna Thomas and that’s the second clue. Then, I come to a realization that has me staggering. Suzanna must be the grandmother who Sullivan spoke about, which is just my fucking luck.

  The deputies lead me into the station. Sullivan hears the door slam behind us and looks up at me. Shame washes over me
like a bucket of cold water and I avert my eyes.

  They lead me to a conference room and settle around me, their voices low as they whisper to each other. When they’re all seated at the table, the Chief of Police T.J. Rickman, a man I’d known my whole life, sits in front of me, his elbows braced on his knees.

  “Hey, Dec, I’m sorry to pull you out of work like this.”

  I drag a hand through my hair. “No, T.J., I understand. I want to help in any way I can.”

  “We appreciate that, and we’ll get through this as fast as we can.”

  “They didn’t tell me exactly what happened.”

  T.J. sighs and his gaze drops to the floor. “Your girl, Sullivan? She came across a body in the woods behind your place. Looked like it had been mauled or something.”

  Furious and sick to my stomach that she’d been there, alone, I rock back in my chair. “I’ve been at the shop since six this morning. We had a couple of early trips planned.”

  T.J. nods. “And last night?”

  I tell him about my date with Sullivan, regret once again rising up like bile in my stomach. “I was at my place, alone, by ten until I left for work this morning.”

  “According to the M.E. she was killed around seven in another location and then dumped behind your place. Ms. Thomas confirmed your alibi so we aren’t holding you or charging you for anything. Just trying to get all the facts.”

  “Are you interviewing all the residents with cabins in the area, or just me?” The question gnaws at my stomach.

  “Considering what happened to your father and the similarities between that case and this one we had to be sure.”

  That’s what I was afraid of. “I understand, T.J. Like I said, I want to do whatever I can to help. Do you need anything else?”

  “That’s it for now, but just stay close in case we have any more questions.”

  “Of course.” I get to my feet and accept T.J.’s hand for a quick shake.

  The interview, surprisingly, is the easiest part. What I’m dreading is waiting in the lobby. I take a step forward and she immediately comes to my side, wrapping her arms around my waist like I hadn’t just been brought in for questioning about a vicious murder.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she says into the material of my shirt. “I knew you couldn’t have anything to do with it, but they wouldn’t let me call you and I still haven’t found my cell phone. Are you okay? What did they do?”

  Carefully, I disentangle her arms and put a careful distance between us. I offer her an uneasy smile. “I’m sorry to put you through this, Sullivan. It won’t happen again.”

  Her dark ponytail has snarls in it and the shirt she’s wearing is wrinkled. There’s a faint red stain on the curve of her neck and my eyes latch onto it. She brings a hand to the spot, rubbing it self-consciously.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “They haven’t let me leave yet and there was b-blood everywhere.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed in an attempt to control my temper. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. This was not your fault.”

  “I was so scared.”

  “You won’t have to be scared again,” I tell her. Suzanna Thomas clears her throat behind Sullivan, her pantsuit is flawless and there isn’t a hair out of place. She was like that on the night we first met, too. I take her hint and put more distance between us.

  Sullivan’s brows crease. “What are you doing?”

  “I meant what I said, Sully. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other again.”

  She brings her eyes to mine, staring up at me in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  Even though Suzanna’s mouth pinches, I lean forward and press a kiss to Sully’s brow. “Ask your grandmother.”

  Sully glances back and forth between us as I straighten and move away from her. “What does she have to do with anything?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again. “Take care.”

  Then I leave without looking back.

  Sullivan

  A few days later, I still haven’t forgiven Nonna for not answering any of my burning questions. She hasn’t said a word about the matter since we left the police station. Once Sam learned about the whole ordeal he hasn’t done anything but hover around me. At home, in between classes at school. No matter how many scathing words I fling at him, I can’t seem to shake his new found hobby of shadowing me.

  I grab a jug of orange juice from the fridge and bump into Sam who was standing behind me. I screech and whirl around. “That’s it. I’m done with this, Sam. I’ve told you a million times that I don’t need you to follow me around.”

  “A girl was murdered, Sully.” He holds up a hand when I open my mouth to object to his use of my nickname. “I’ll damn well follow you if I have to put a tracking device under your skin.”

  “Don’t be morbid. The people at the Chronicle are saying it was just an animal attack.”

  “That’s because the cops don’t have any other leads. Until they find the human or animal responsible, you’re just going to have to live with your new bodyguard.”

  I groan and put the orange juice away after pouring myself a glass. “Fine, but can you keep at least a ten-foot distance between us? I’m tired of your girlfriend wannabes thinking I’m some sort of competition.”

  “Fine,” he says. “As long as you keep your distance from that guy.”

  “That guy didn’t do anything wrong that I’m aware of. In fact, he was perfectly respectful, not that I owe you any explanation.”

  “The hell you don’t.”

  “If anyone deserves an explanation, it’s me. Yet Nonna doesn’t seem to think any of my questions deserve answers.”

  “I don’t care who he is. He’s obviously a danger to you and you need to stay away from him.”

  I roll my eyes at him and pack up my bag for my second day of doing work-study at the Woodland Creek Chronicle. The university offers a program for students to shadow during the summer as an extra credit. With none of my other classes available and no positions open at any of the law firms, the Chronicle was my last resort. When the managing editor learned that I discovered the body in Running Deer, he couldn’t wait to grill me for all the details and take me under his wing. That lasted for a couple hours until he tired of me. Then he left me to fact check and do grunt work for the real reporters.

  Thankfully Sam leaves for an early class so I won’t have to put up with him hovering. For a while at least. Not for the first time, I consider sneaking out to pop over to Declan’s shop to demand answers.

  I nearly manage to pluck up the courage when I hear the click of Nonna’s heels coming down the stairs. For the first time since the scene with Declan happened at the police station, we’re alone and I’m determined to find out what the hell is going on.

  She peers around the corner and her eyes widen when they land on me leaning against the counter. “Oh,” she says, “I thought you left with your brother.”

  “Nope. I thought we could talk.”

  Nonna smoothes a hand over her hair and frowns. “I don’t have time to talk right now, Sullivan. I’m supposed to be in a meeting in twenty minutes.”

  “You told me that you wanted us to be a family, right? That you wanted for me to trust you? How do you expect me to do that when you won’t tell me why you have a problem with Declan? The police interviewed him for Christ’s sake. They didn’t see any cause for concern, so I don’t see why you’re so adamant about me staying away from him.”

  She crosses the kitchen to the coffee machine, taking her time selecting a mug and a little cup of her favorite French roast. She puts the cup in the machine and turns it on. The smell fills the kitchen as I wait for her to respond.

  “Did your mother ever tell you what happened to your Poppa Joe?” she asks.

  I lean my elbows on the counter. “She said he had a hunting accident when we were very little.”

  “Well, Declan was with him,” Nonna says matter-of-factly.

>   My mouth opens and closes a couple of times before I manage to say, “He was?”

  She nods. “They went on a hunting trip just before Christmas that year. There was a bad snowstorm and they got blocked in the forest. Your Poppa Joe and a couple others, including Declan’s father became trapped and Declan had to go for help. He didn’t make it in time. Declan and his father’s friend Red were the only two to survive the ordeal. The others, along with your grandfather, died from the cold.”

  A gamut of emotions race through me as I digest the information. No wonder they were so shocked when they saw each other at the police station. Growing up here after dealing with all of that must be why he seems so lonely. Ostracized with no family. I can’t imagine how he must have felt. “I didn’t know,” I tell her.

  “I don’t hold it against him. He was only a boy at the time. But we still steer clear of each other whenever we run into one another in town. It’s just too painful a reminder. I hope you understand.”

  “I do. Thank you for finally telling me.”

  “Despite what you may think, Sullivan. The last thing I want is to come between you and someone who makes you happy. I know how fleeting love is, believe me.” She rubs my arm and I try not to show how confused I am. I don’t want her to think I blame her for what happened with Declan.

  “It was only one date.” One helluva date. “I was more caught off guard than anything,” I say.

  “I know you were. I should have told you sooner, but it’s hard for me to talk about, as you can imagine.”

  “No, I completely understand.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” She pulls me into a hug. “Now, I hope this doesn’t keep you from seeing him again. Our past aside, I’m sure he’s a great man. You were practically floating when you came back from your night with him.”

  “I don’t know, he seemed pretty sure when he said we shouldn’t be together.”

  “Sometimes women have to tell a man what’s best for him, sweetheart. They’re misguided in that way.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind if I see him again.”