“Yeah?”
“It is always best to follow one’s heart in these circumstances.”
“Leave town no matter how bad things are?”
“Is that what your heart wants to do?”
“Yes. No. Yes.”
“There you are,” he intoned like it was the best advice ever given.
“And for your information,” he added, “I would be an outstanding counselor for anyone’s life. I am Death, after all. I know how it all ends.”
With that, he opened the door, and the big bad storm huffing and puffing outside rushed inside, catching and clawing at the bright bits of fabric, twisting and turning the jungle canopy of creatures above us, wild and reckless and fierce.
He pressed his blunt, boney fingers into my shoulder and gave me a little push out the door. I opened my mouth to say something, but there was a lot of rain slapping me in the face, so I took the high road.
I fled to the Jeep and ducked in quick. Dragon pig was nowhere to be seen which meant it had popped back home. I didn’t blame it. There was a cozy gas fireplace, an overly friendly dog, and a pile of toys it had gathered for its hoard. A much nicer place to weather the storm than in the cold front seat of the Jeep.
I pushed back my hood and grabbed the towel I kept in the glove box. I wiped my face, then paused. Something was different. Something about the shop.
I didn’t turn over the engine yet since I wasn’t sure what had snagged my attention. I scanned my surroundings, starting with my rearview mirror. No one and nothing in my back seat. No one around the vehicle. The parking lot was empty. The shop was still glowing like it was lit from the inside by Christmas lights.
But something. Something was different.
The creep of evening rubbed the details off the bushes, trees, and other buildings in the area. If it were just a little brighter out, I was sure I’d be able to see what was bothering me.
Then it hit me. The light—or rather, the lack of it. It was darker outside than when I drove up. And not just because of the thickening clouds and setting sun.
The light pole was missing.
There should be a shepherd’s crook light pole on the corner near the shop. It had been there when I drove up. I narrowed my eyes and stared at where the light post should be.
Nothing.
Was it raining hard enough to obscure the light post or was the light itself shorted out?
“Dammit.” I pulled my hood back on, got out of the Jeep, and jogged to the corner.
Welp. Shorted light wasn’t the issue. There was no post there at all. The round metal footing set into the concrete was still there. But the pole and light were gone, leaving a hole in the center of the footing with twisted bits of wire sticking up out of it.
Someone had stolen the light pole.
I turned a full circle. If the thief was in the area, they should be pretty easy to spot. Those light poles were heavy and long. It would take more than one person to move it, and possibly even heavy equipment to remove it from the concrete.
But all I saw was rain.
“Well, hell.” I pulled my phone out and took a few quick photos. I didn’t want to waterlog the electronics.
Something moved at the edge of my vision, and I spun toward it. A shadow moved about half a block down, but it was impossible to see who or what it might be.
I jogged back to the Jeep, started the engine, and with my lights on, made a quick turn to follow where the shadow had been headed.
There was nothing but rain, houses, bushes, and wind.
Chapter Four
I drovethe streets for an hour, looking for any sign of that shadow, or any sign of the missing traffic light or light pole. The list of suspects was growing longer the more I searched.
