Abigail tapped one nail against her full bottom lip. “Well, Carl smiled at me, and one time he watched me walk by, just standing there against a pine tree. It was a little creepy. . . . I can’t explain it. The way his eyes just followed me. You know, we’re just animals, like all the rest out there in the woods looking for prey every night. Our instincts, once heeded, often lead to inevitable results.” She shivered. “I just thought you should know about him.”
“I appreciate it.” Why hadn’t Laurel said anything last night? There had been plenty of time to chat in the SUV on the way to his place, although she had been freezing and trying to warm up. “Did Carl ever say anything to you?”
“No,” Abigail whispered. “That was weird, too. The way he stared at me but didn’t say anything.” Her hands trembled and she glanced down at them. “Look at me. Now I’m psyching myself out, as my students would say.” For the first time, she looked vulnerable and not in full control. “Have you ever just had a feeling about somebody?”
“Yes, and that instinct has saved my life before,” he said. “Those feelings or instincts are what keep us alive. How many times did you see Carl?”
“Oh.” She breathed out. “I don’t know. It had to be four times? Yes, I think that’s right.”
He gentled his voice as he would with any trembling animal. “You’re doing great. Just stick with me for a minute. The first time you saw Carl. When was it?”
She swallowed. “Um, the first time I saw him was probably a year and a half ago in the summertime. On that occasion, I just noticed him on a UTV, leaving the parking area. He nodded at me as he drove by, and if I’d never seen him again, I probably wouldn’t even have remembered the incident.”
Huck sat straighter, the hair on his arms prickling. “Tell me about the UTV. Did it have a back seat or a bed area?”
She winced. “I don’t remember. It was just a UTV. I didn’t really look it over. Just saw him and his intense eyes. They’re green, and they made an impression on me—as did his horribly scarred face. So much so that I might’ve blocked out that scar until I saw it again. It’s just so terrible. His face was partially concealed before, but still, there was a scar. Can you believe I blocked it out?”
“Keep that image in your head if you would. For the next few days. If you get a better picture of what he was driving, that’d be great. Do you remember what he was wearing?” Just how good was her memory of that day?
Her eyelids wrinkled. “I don’t. Sorry.”
That tracked since she didn’t remember much about the UTV. “How long until you saw him again?”
She bit her bottom lip, drawing out the movement of her white teeth as she apparently tried to remember. “It was that autumn because the leaves were changing, and I remember thinking it was one of the last times I’d be able to run before rain and snow made it too uncomfortable.” She ruffled her hair, which pressed her bra against the loose weave of the black sweater. It was a paler gray color.
Did she want him to notice the bra was gray? He studied her face. She was looking at the dog, frowning and trying to remember. He winced. Noticing the gray bra was on him. He had to get his head back into the investigation. “Was Carl in a UTV when you saw him the second time?”
“No. He was in an ATV with four tires and no back seat or bed or anything. Just him on the four-wheeler. I remember because he smiled that time like we were old friends. Then he winked.”
Huck dug a pencil out from a stack and started taking notes. “He winked at you?”
“Yes, and it was disturbing.” She shook her head, sending the blond tendrils over her shoulder. “I know this sounds silly, but when he winked, the entire movement lacked levity. Creepy isn’t a word I like because it isn’t concrete enough, but that fits. It was just . . . haunting.” She sighed and the British accent emerged more heavily. “After he drove by, I changed my mind about jogging and got back into my car and drove home.”
Huck made a quick notation. “Give me a sec.” He reached for his phone and dialed Monty.
“Hey,” Monty said by way of answer.
“When you’re finished with the other work I assigned you, would you conduct a background check on Carl . . .”
“Snow,” Abigail said. “When I googled him, his last name was Snow.”
So the guy was Laurel’s uncle on her mother’s side. “Snow. Carl Snow. Thanks.” Huck ended the call before Monty could question him. “Tell me about the third time, Abigail.”
She smiled, looking younger now that she’d shared her fear. “I like the way you say my name.”
He pursed his lips. All right. He didn’t want her to like the way he said her name. “The third time?”
She rolled her eyes and visibly relaxed in the worn guest chair. “The third time was this spring, and that’s the time he was using a crutch. He stopped under a tree and watched me. It was after I’d already run the trails, so I just kept going back to my SUV.” She lost the come-hither smile and looked frightened again. “My heart was beating so fast after I saw him that I can remember the relief when I locked my doors inside the vehicle.”
Even though she was a flirt and possibly a narcissist as Laurel had said, she was still a witness who appeared frightened. “There was one more time after that?” He kept his voice level and calming.
She nodded. “Yes. Early September, I was feeling . . . restless. I don’t know. Bored. I don’t do well bored. Do you, Captain?”
Her penchant for quickly switching from business to personal made him uneasy. He was accustomed to being in control, and this woman threw him off balance—and not in a good way. “No. Are you still feeling bored?” he asked.
The left side of her mouth lifted slightly, and she leveled those blue eyes on him. Curiosity and tension flowed from her. “Oh, no. Not at all. Isn’t life full of surprises?”
If she was talking about him, she was way off the mark. “I don’t like surprises,” he warned her.
