Mr. Rutherford took his time. Each step a snake pit. Sharp pains struck at his legs, starting with his weedy ankles and working their way up his thighs. Eyes watched as he progressed toward the sheriff's office. Each wondering if it would be his last trek from the old Victorian tucked into the woods behind Turlough.

He sucked his breath in sharp as he pulled open the station door. Neil rushed over to help.

"Off!" said Mr. Rutherford, slapping at Neil's hand. "Off! I can manage a silly door." The way he used it for leverage, he appeared to be heaving himself onto a ledge. "Where's the sheriff? I'm tired of waiting for her to return my calls," he said, puffing himself up. "Elizabeth!"

"The sheriff's in a meeting right now. You can wait if you like," said Neil waving toward Elle's office and the row of chairs outside her door.

"I do like." Mr. Rutherford hobbled over to the chairs, peering inside to see who Elle was speaking with. If his hearing was any better he would have liked to eavesdrop. But even up close, you needed to shout to be heard.

"Can I get you something while you wait?"

Mr. Rutherford waved him off with a furious hand gesture.

Inside her office, Elle held up a hand for Robin to stop talking distracted by the sight of Mr. Rutherford wobbling past her door.

She rounded her desk toward Mr. Rutherford and sat down beside him. "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to return your calls, Mr. Rutherford."

He squeezed her arm. "Gives me a chance to get some much needed exercise." He smiled for what was probably the first time all day. His teeth hadn't fared better than the rest of him. Many of the back molars were missing and a few bicuspids. The ones he did have were the colour of old ivory. "And this gives me a chance to flirt with you."

"What was it you needed?" Her face relaxed and some of the tension she'd felt earlier eased out of her shoulders.

"I wanted to tell you about Mrs. Collard and her hedges. I checked the by-law. She has an obligation to cut them if they're too high. She says they're not too high." He took a big gulp of air. "I had my nephew measure them last time he was here and that was several weeks ago. They're too high." He nudged her arm. "You remember him? He's single again you know."

Robin watched from the door, a small smile curving her lips.

"Mr. Rutherford, you know I'm far too busy to worry about dating." She tried to brush his comment off with a smile, but the colour creeping from her ears gave her away.

"It's nice to see you smile." Mr. Rutherford patted her cheek. "You're far too serious these days, Elizabeth." He began the long process of standing. "And far too pretty to let yourself go to waste." Elle helped him to his feet. She hooked his elbow with a strong grip.

"I promise to talk with Mrs. Collard about her hedges. As long as you promise me to stay put. I'm sure your family doesn't want you using up all your strength for by-law complaints."

He turned grave eyes on her. "And what else do I have to occupy my time with? I don't have much of it left. I would think my prize for making it this long would be a free pass on unlimited complaining."

Elle sighed, but smiled despite herself. This argument was old. "I'll come by when I have a free moment and you can beat me at cribagge, how's that?" She let go of his arm in increments, allowing him to take possession of his own gravity.

"Okay. As long as you bring your own money, I'm not spotting you this time."

Elle waited until he was through the door before she turned back to Robin.

"Who's that?" Robin asked, following Elle into her office.

"That would be Mr. Rutherford. Turlough's oldest resident. He's about ninety-eight?" She sat, nodding for Robin to do the same. "Everyone's just waiting for him to die. It's sad." Her anger, so recently on firm ground, had slipped away. Mr. Rutherford, with all his fruitless flirting, had a way of doing that. He was more than just the oldest resident of Turlough. He was an institution, and as far back as Elle could remember, always had an easy smile for her.

"Is the whole town like that?" she asked, easing herself into the scarred wingback across from Elle. She had this idea about small towns being retirement communities.

Elle gave a lopsided shrug and studied the blond sitting across from her with new scrutiny. She was what Elle would call a cool blond. There was something remote and hidden about her. But she was stunning. Thin delicate eyebrows framed her pale blue eyes. She wore just the right amount of mascara to make them pop. Her skirt suit was pale grey with a matching silk blouse. A beautiful gold chain with some symbol Elle couldn't make out, hung around her neck. Everything about her screamed expensive.

"Listen, I'm not exactly sure what you're expecting to dig up here. There's no crime because most of the offences aren't worth reporting. I'm not going to write someone up for a by-law violation. So if you're here for something juicier than that, you're wasting your time."

"Why do you assume I'm here to get the dirt on you? Sometimes people just want a feel-good story."

Elle squinted in disbelief. Her focus shifted to Robin's legs as she crossed one over the other. Her skirt hiked up a few inches giving Elle an excellent view of firm long legs. "What exactly did you tell Brady? He presented a very different story idea to me."

Robin shrugged. "He didn't seem the type that would be interested in hearing about empowered women and how that's beneficial for the economy in general."

Elle almost snorted. "True. He'd rather one of the good 'ol boys held this seat. I guess I don't scratch his back enough." Elle gave a mental shudder at that thought. She picked up a pen, twirling it around her finger. "To be completely truthful, I'd like you gone as soon as possible. I mean, who would want to write about some Podunk town in the middle of nowhere. And this," she said, indicating Robin, her suit, shoes, hair. "Doesn't exactly scream 'feel good' story to me."

Robin leaned forward, offering a spectacular view of her cleavage, and nodded toward the phone. "Looks to me like you do more than deal with by-law complaints. Underage drinking, trespassing? Sheriff helps younger brother escape the charges of youth. Could be a story." She was goading her.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Elle leaned away, twirling the mug of coffee on the blotter. The inscription read: 'World's Greatest Mayor.'

"All right. I'm not here to make enemies or write up the dirt on your family. But it is a free country and I'm paid up for the week at the B&B down the road, so I plan on sticking around."

Elle stood. "It is a lovely B&B. Probably one of the best in the state." She brushed at her pants, considering, weighing her stubbornness against her common sense. Both of which were losing to the beautiful reporter sitting across from her. Part of her wanted to leave it at that. Let her write what she wanted. But another part, the less intrusive more rational side knew, if she helped, she could control the information instead of letting the town gossips dictate the truth. "Look, I'm not promising anything. But if I can't convince you that Turlough is the most boring place on Earth in words, maybe I can show you." Not only was this idea bad, it was dangerous. She could feel her coveted control breaking. There were plenty of stories from her youth she'd rather not have this woman hear. No matter how many years separated her from that version of herself, there were parts of Elle's past she didn't want drudged up.

Robin clapped her hands together. "Perfect. I'll need full access to the town. I'd also like to follow you around for a couple days, get a feel for your day-to-day—"

"Whoa." Elle held her hand up. "I said I'd be cooperative. I'm not looking for a tail."

The phone rang. Elle picked it up before Neil could grab it. "Flynn County Sheriff's Office." She frowned after a moment. "How long has she been like that?" As she listened, she grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. "I'll be there shortly. Thanks."

"Can I come?"

"No."

***

Elle's hat lay in the backseat, usurped by Robin riding shotgun. Triumph carpeted her face as the wind blew at her hair. They had already passed out of the downtown and were riding the backroads. Trees and ravines enveloping the cruiser. Robin breathed in the scented spring air. It reminded her of the yearly camping trip when her parents and little brother would drive out into the middle of nowhere. They'd load up everything in her dad's ancient minivan and drive until the mosquitos outnumbered people. Then they'd set up two tents. One for her parents and one for her and her brother. They'd swim and hike during the day and make fires at night. On the Fourth of July they would light sparklers and write letters in the air. Usually dirty words they weren't allowed to say out loud. She hated it as a kid. It was weird, but being out here made her kind of miss it. She couldn't remember the last time she'd sucked in fresh air.

"Where are we headed?" She asked.

Elle kept her eyes ahead, navigating the roads like a familiar room in the dark. "The Maverty house."

"Ah," she said. Her arm hung out the window, both sleeves rolled up, creasing the smooth silk. "That explains it then."

"It's what everyone calls this abandoned house out in the woods." She pushed at her hair, curling some wind-whipped tendrils behind her ear. "All the kids hang out there. Hell, I used to hang out there when I was in school." She glanced at Robin, absorbed in the thickness of the forest. When she'd threatened to follow her in her rental car she'd relented in bringing her along. It was only a simple noise complaint. This was the perfect opportunity to show how boring Turlough was.

"The council has been trying to get it demolished, but a couple of months ago it was named a historical landmark."

"So what do kids do at this Maverty house?"

"The usual. Drink, do drugs...have sex."

"How many times a month do you bust this place up?"

Elle sighed. "I don't bust it up. I have patrols come by on weekends, make sure no one's doing anything too stupid."

"Makes you sound like a babysitter."

Elle laughed. It echoed throughout the cruiser, joining the wind. Her shield dropped for a moment. "I guess that's a really good description of what I do."

Robin watched the dying embers of her laugh fade. She liked it. It made her more alive somehow. She'd have to remember to be funny more often.

The cruiser turned into a drive. Obscured by trees on both sides, only someone familiar with the road would know it was there. Branches scrapped at the sides of the car. They dug into the paint as if hoping for a souvenir. It rocked from side to side. A jarring, rough effect on the passengers inside. Robin's tall frame almost hit the ceiling of the cab as they came to the bottom of a steep hill. When she rounded the last bend in the drive, a tall dilapidated Victorian stood in a small clearing. It's original colour had eroded over time. The porch leaned into the earth and forest around it, bucking where a large tree root had pushed through. A shiny silver BMW coup parked in the drive made an incongruous scene next to the decay.

A young woman sat on the steps hugging her knees to her chest. Mascara trails ran down her cheeks. Her blond stringy hair was tucked behind her ears. She appeared tiny next to the forest and house as she rocked back and forth, staring into the distance.

"Stay," Elle said as she exited the cruiser. "You can observe from here."

Robin raised her hands in surrender. "You're the boss."

Elle snorted, mentally girding herself against the upcoming battles she was sure would be fought with Robin Oakes in the coming days.

Elle approached the girl as one would a spooked horse. She'd taken her jacket off in the car, throwing it over her discarded hat. Her hands loose at her sides. "Tanya?" Her voice was calm, sure. She knelt down and placed her hands on Tanya's knees. They jerked away from her. As if noticing Elle for the first time, Tanya looked down at her. Elle kept her hands there, reassuring.

"I got a call about screaming. Were you in an argument with someone?" Elle peered around Tanya toward the front door. "Are they still here?" She turned to look at the BMW behind her. "Was the car here before you arrived?" Seeing the beamer worried her most of all.

Tanya broke into a sob. Her shoulders rolling forward as she crumpled into Elle. Tanya shook her head. "I waited." She gulped in a lung full of air. "I don't like to go in by myself." Another sob as she burrowed into Elle's shoulder, leaving black smudges on her epaulette. "But they didn't come. So I went in to see if maybe they were already inside." She muffled the last bit.

Elle stroked Tanya's hair making soothing noises letting her cry it out. Several minutes passed. Cicadas chirped in the trees surrounding the house. That and the low mewling from Tanya were the only noises. Elle moved to sit beside Tanya on the steps, enclosing her in her arms. She rocked her back and forth, like her mother used to when she was young.

Tanya raised her head. "Why didn't they come?"

"Who, honey?"

Tanya shook her head. "I shouldn't have gone in." She hugged her knees in tighter. Her breath was shaky, but she had stopped crying.

"Feel up to moving?" Elle asked.

Tanya nodded.

"Okay," Elle helped Tanya to her feet. "Let's get you home." She guided Tanya to the cruiser and set her in the back seat.

Robin had turned in her seat to get a better view. Her remark about babysitting having taken root in her mind, now sprouted branches.

"I'm going to take a quick look around," she said to Robin.

"I'll go with you." Undeterred by the look she gave her. "Come on, I'm as curious as you."

Elle shook her head. "I want you to stay with Tanya. If it's nothing serious, maybe I'll let you look around when I come back out."

Robin eyed Tanya. What she thought of this idea and of Tanya not lost on Elle.

Elle unclipped a small Mag-lite from her belt. The underbrush crunched beneath her feet as she approached the front door. She turned before she entered. "I mean it. Stay." If she'd had the guts, she would have handcuffed her to the cruiser. She didn't trust Robin Oakes to stay put. She looked like the sort that felt rules didn't apply to them.

The smell of it. She would never forget. The odour was engrained into her senses the way blueberry pie reminded her of summer and hot chocolate of winter. This scent would always remind her of him. Decades of abandonment had imparted the house with its own distinct aroma. A mixture of decay, mould, stale beer, marijuana and a hint of nature reclaiming its territory. As Elle entered, there was something else, something new she couldn't place.

She panned the flashlight across the foyer. The downstairs was dark even in the day. The little light that did filter in came from scattered cracks in the boarded up windows. Upstairs was a different story. A storm had ripped part of the roof off, leaving several of the rooms full of light, and open to the elements. Mounds of dirt huddled in corners composted from fallen foliage. The battered furniture lay in a funk, preparing to return to base elements as if in purgatory.

Elle stepped over a few strewn beer cans toward the kitchen. She searched the ground for anything out of the ordinary, made harder by the nature of the place. She moved with purpose, scanning each surface, then continuing on to the next room.

Not much had changed since high school. The same furniture, a little worse off than she'd last seen. She recognized the wing-backed chair he always sat in. Its position had changed. And there were a few more holes and burn marks. But it still stood like a throne. Occupied by a different quarterback. Different name, same attitude. There had been a time when Elle had spent most weekends and evenings here. With Jessie and their crew. Wrapped in teenage fantasies. Before the accident.

Her light passed over something in the far corner of what had once been the living room. Like the light through the slates in the window, Elle's stomach flickered. The new smell finally identified. She stepped over a fallen rafter to get a clearer view. The distinct shape of a man lay face up near the far wall.

The beam from Elle's flashlight worked its way up the torso, then stopped, wavering at the head. Elle choked back a sob. Her flashlight dropped to the floor with a clank rolling under some refuse. Her hand flew to her mouth to hold in the bile.

She'd seen his face. That face. His mouth twisted in its final expression. Her eyes snapped shut. But like a bright light, the image was fused to the back of her lids. His soft grey eyes unblinking. Their last image of the wilted ceiling above.

"I heard you scre—Holy shit!" Robin stumbled, her heels sinking into the soft floor of the Maverty house.

"Out! Get out," Elle said, her voice faltering, pointing at the door behind Robin. As she followed Robin outside she removed a pair of handcuffs from her belt. She placed one around Robin's wrist and clicked the other end to the crumbling porch railing. Elle tripped down the stairs, running for the edge of the glade. She only made it to the side of the porch before she bent forward and threw up on a patch of dandelions. She straightened, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and swallowed a steady gulp of air. Tears escaped her tightly shut eyes. Some from panic, others anger. Acutely aware that she had an audience, Elle rubbed at her eyes, as if to erase her embarrassment. "Don't touch anything," she said as she stomped away, leaving Robin cuffed to the rail. 

*****

Thanks for reading! If you like what you've read please consider leaving a comment and or vote. All feedback is welcome!

Updated Mondays and Fridays.