Deidre’s needles kept clicking. “We should have Kate and the kids over for dinner sometime next week. I’ve enjoyed getting to know them.”
Laurel started knitting again. “Me, too.”
“Since I have your full attention, I want to do a ritual over the new tea leaves that just arrived, and the next full moon is on Friday. Will you be available?”
Laurel swallowed. “I don’t think so.”
Deidre rolled her eyes. “Come on, Laurel. Just because you don’t believe in the moon’s power doesn’t mean she doesn’t have some. I have no doubt my work with the moon has helped substantially with my tea subscription business.”
As had careful planning as well as Deidre’s mastery of mixing different organic and natural ingredients into delicious teas. Laurel shook her head. “Mom, I don’t think I’d be an asset.”
Deidre waved her hand in the air. “Whatever. I’ll handle it with my employees, then. I just thought you’d be interested.”
Hardly. “How’s it going with your new counsellor?” Her mom had finally told Laurel the truth about her biological father several weeks ago. He’d been a preacher at the local church and Deidre had been seventeen and unwilling. Hopefully now that she had told Laurel the full story, she’d be able to heal from the trauma.
“Good. I like her, and I feel better than I have in years. If I’m imagining this situation with somebody watching me, she’ll help. Now that we’ve talked about it, I feel like I was just being hypersensitive.” Deidre ruffled her short blond hair. “In fact, I might even go on a date. I mean, actually see a man.”
Laurel coughed. A date? A real date? “That’s fantastic. Who’s the prospect?”
A pretty blush spread from ear to ear across Deidre’s face. “Well, actually, it’s Monty Buckley. We met in the hospital visiting you and Huck after, well, you know.”
After the Snowblood killer had almost murdered them both.
“Oh. He seems like a nice man.” Laurel frowned but kept knitting.
“I know he’s ill, but he’s a good person, and if nothing else, we can be friends.” Deidre sounded more upbeat than she had in a long time. Then she sobered. “I saw your new case featured on the news. Those poor women.”
Yes, the story was now on all of the stations as well as online. Huck’s ex was already giving interviews as the journalist in the know, and he seemed fine with that fact. “One of the victims is the mayor’s sister-in-law, which draws attention.”
Deidre set the hat to the side and reached for a peach-colored ball of yarn to begin a pair of booties. “I think it’s the creepy flowers left on the snow that’s attracting the press.”
“The media does love a ritual aspect to a crime.”
A knock on the front door had them both jumping. Laurel set aside her knitting. “I’ll get it.” As her mother continued with the booties, she strode through the kitchen to the front door and opened it. “Huck.”
“Hi.” He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets in that way he had. Was it to disarm people? To make himself appear as less of a threat? “There’s something wrong with this case.” In the porch light, his eyes gleamed and tired lines spread out from the corners. “I need to work it through.”
Interesting. “All right.” She looked at the long, plowed driveway behind him. The clouds had dispersed, leaving the moon bright and powerful as it glinted off the trees and snow. “Do you mind walking?” It was freezing outside, but walking would help clear her mind. Plus, she didn’t want her mother to be bothered by the facts of the case she didn’t already know.
“I’d prefer it.” His boots were already covered with plenty of snow.
So they were going to continue as if they hadn’t had that argument. Good. Laurel reached for the entry closet door and bundled up in a thick parka, snow boots, gloves, scarf, and a hat knitted by her mom. “Mom? I’m going for a walk with Huck and will be back shortly.” Without waiting for an answer or a protest, she hustled outside. The frigid air instantly burned her face and she pulled down the hat and more securely wrapped the scarf over her lower jaw. “Let’s go.”
He turned just as Aeneas bounded out from the trees, happily churning up frozen pinecones.
They walked down the driveway with winter silence all around them. Laurel looked up at the darkened sky with its distant stars. Even they looked frozen.
“This case is all wrong,” Huck said, shortening his steps so she didn’t have to jog.
“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Laurel said as Aeneas raced on ahead, his muscles bunching.
Huck stared off into the trees. “Genesis Valley is a small town in a large county. Yet within two months we have two different crazy serial killers leaving bodies for us to find?”
That was an interesting point. “The Snowblood killer had meant to hide the bodies by throwing them off the edge of a cliff.” It had only been a UTV accident and an avalanche that had revealed those bodies.
“Even so, two killers right here inthistown?” Huck shook his head. “I don’t think so. Statistically, I mean.” His voice was a low and oddly comforting rumble in the night, despite the macabre subject matter. “Plus, it’s the same team working the case. I know it’s our job, and crimes like this are specifically your unit’s purview, but still. I don’t like the coincidence. My gut doesn’t like it.”
She’d always admired people whose gut made decisions. Of course, it was instinct, which was truly just experience filtered by the subconscious. But she’d learned to trust Huck’s subconscious. “The FBI has put out data that there are about fifty active serial killers in the US right now.”
