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When he started believing the lies in his own head.
The dog barked.
Once.
Sharp.
Then again.
My body went still.
The deputy reached for his radio.
I lifted one hand.
“Wait.”
The dog was facing the east pasture.
Toward the old equipment shed.
Toward the line of trees Gerald had used before.
I stepped off the porch.
Slowly.
The deputy followed.
“Beast?”
“Get Cooper.”
“But—”
“Now.”
He ran.
I moved toward the shed.
Every step I took was careful, not to get too far from the house.
Every sense open.
The wind shifted.
Carried the faint smell of mud.
Wet leaves.
And something else.
Gun oil. I don’t know if that was my imagination or what the hell it was, but I wasn’t ignoring it.
My jaw tightened.
Gerald was close.
