Читать книгу Snow Signs - Jennifer Seet - Страница 12

Chapter Five

“Well, time to get started,” Claire said aloud as she washed the dishes and put them in the drainer.

She ran a washcloth over the countertop and table, making sure the kitchen was clean and back to normal before going outside to check on the blood and shoeprints.

As she put her feet into her boots, she once again thought about the reappearing blood.

It’s strange that it would just show up like that. Then overnight, more blood…doesn’t make sense…and, why the prints?

All of these thoughts were going through her head when she opened the door and braced herself for the frigid air before walking out onto the front porch.

She walked down the steps and through the yard with her head down, a buffer from the stinging cold.

“Hey, Claire.”

She looked up to see Myra pulled to a stop in front of the house. She had a newspaper in her hand.

“I thought you might want this. I decided to drive up and get my paper--didn’t want to walk in the cold.”

“Thanks, Myra. I was just going to get it.” She came out to the car and took the extended newspaper.

She thanked her and started to turn around, but hesitated before asking, “Oh, by the way, did you see any injured deer in your yard yesterday or today?”

“Injured? No, can’t say that I did. Why?”

“Well, see this blood,” Claire turned and pointed to the drops in the snow. “It was here yesterday too. I was thinking that maybe a deer had been injured.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Myra said as she squinted in the bright morning sun.

“But what are those footprints doing there? Did you notice them yesterday too?”

“No, that’s the strangest part. Yesterday there was just a little blood, enough to make me think there might be an injured animal, maybe a deer. Today, I look out my window and see more blood and the prints! I have no idea where they came from.”

“Well, just be careful. It looks like someone might have been in your yard and killed a deer. They’re not supposed to do that here in the Conservancy, but that’s what it looks like.”

She paused and then asked, “Did you hear any shots?”

Claire shook her head ‘no’ and continued to stare at the blood.

With a puzzled look on her face, Myra asked, “Did you report it to the office yet?”

“No, not yet. I was just coming out to take a closer look. Do you think I should call?”

“I would if I were you. Have Jim Hoppes come and look at it. He’s the sheriff’s deputy who patrols the Conservancy. He can help.”

“Yes, I know Jim. I’ve worked with him on a few cases and he’s a good guy. I might just do that.”

Claire wavered, as if thinking through her options before adding, “Thanks Myra. You take care and have a good day.”

Myra waved as she pulled the Jeep into her driveway across the street.

Claire didn’t want to alarm her but as she looked closer at the blood and shoeprints, she realized that it was just too ‘pat’. There was only one set of prints, which was very strange since they didn’t lead anywhere.

Why and how would someone leave only one set of shoeprints in a yard? And, if there were logical explanations, why would someone even try to hunt down an animal in a restricted neighborhood? There are always people around, looking out their window at anything suspicious. Even with the small stand of trees obscuring the view, surely someone would have seen or heard a hunter!

No, this didn’t look like that to Claire. It looked almost staged; it looked like someone wanted her to see this…and if so, why?

Claire stared at the prints. Tread looks like what you find on an athletic shoe, possibly size 10, no unusual tread. Wonder why the person didn’t wear boots?

Suddenly, she stopped and straightened up. A puzzled look came across her face. Typical description of shoes, she decided, but one that I have thought about recently.

Claire’s heart beat a little faster. Hold on! Same description as in the Libby Newman case! Same size shoeprints found at the site where she disappeared!

Shivering in response to the cold air, but also because of the intriguing similarities, she decided, No, it’s just my imagination.

So what! I’ve been thinking about that case, writing about it, and now I’m seeing it in the snow?

She smiled ruefully and turned to go back into the house. Ridiculous! My brain hasn’t caught up with my body yet on this retirement thing. My mind is still in detective mode and if I’m not careful, I’ll lose it completely!

But as Claire walked through the front door, she didn’t see what formed in the snow behind her. If she had, she probably would have startled and jumped even though she was a seasoned detective, used to things that were strange and unusual.

Flakes of snow danced in the air, swirling faster and faster, growing into something formative, blurry, but resembling a person, without the substance of a human being, but mirroring a shadow or a ghost of someone long dead.

At least it would look like that to someone who believed in that kind of thing, but Claire wasn’t a believer, not yet anyway.