Bystanders surrounded Officer Edwards, clamoring to give their account of the scuffle.

Emily pushed through. "Please, sir, he stabbed a man in the woods. Shouldn't we see if the poor fellow needs a doctor?"

He tucked his notepad away. "Folks, don't go away. I'll take your witnesses shortly. Someone call for an ambulance. You're the one he attacked, right?"

Emily nodded. "I saw the stabbing. He chased me out of the woods."

"Lead the way, Mrs Katz."

Emily glanced up at him as they hurried to the trail. "Actually it's Mrs Kassell."

He chuckled. "Well, that's what we all called you. It's me, Mrs Katz. David Edwards."

Emily dug through her memory as she trotted down into the woods. "Oh! Davy! Little Davy, the boy on the bike! Always waiting for the next Hardy Boys book to reach our shelves! The boy with the magnifying glass always in his pocket!"

The officer's face turned red as he drew a small toy glass from an inner pocket. "My good luck charm."

"My, how the years have fled. Just look at you! No. Look over here instead. This is where they fought."

"Are you sure? One patch of woods looks like every other."

"I'm sure." She'd followed the shining filament of her own footfalls, and here just ahead lay a tangle of murky, spiky colors, the traces left by violence and anger. "See how the undergrowth is flattened? Sword ferns, crumpled and torn. And here's a boot print."

"Your stabbing victim apparently is not in desperate need of a doctor."

"Look, this dark patch in the duff. Blood? A lot of it!"

Officer Edwards knelt and examined the stained forest floor. "You're right." He rose, gazing in all directions.

Emily studied the gossamer strands most people couldn't see. Two had come straight to this spot. One had run uphill, chasing her. Another took a staggering path west, neither up nor down, parallel to the creek somewhere downhill. "This way." She pointed at crushed ferns and brush.

The policeman whistled. "Now I believe what they say about you. You can find anything! And you didn't even need a toy magnifying glass."

"I hardly think—" she began.

"Can you find stolen loot? These two might be the ones who robbed the liquor store yesterday over at Black Diamond. I'll have a better idea after I take statements and descriptions back up at the street."

Emily sucked in a sharp breath. "He did say, 'Where did you hide it.' But I can't find just any old thing. I'm afraid they're stretching things. I was lucky, that's all. You can't believe gossip, you know."

The wail of a siren arose. The ambulance. "Better get back up there and send them away. I need to radio this in. When backup comes, you and I are going to give it a go. Perhaps you'll get lucky again."

Emily glanced once more at the staggering path of gossamer strands. Was the wounded man heading back to his hidden loot?

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prompt: year

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Reader: What would you like to see in the upcoming story? Does she find the loot? The wounded man? The nasty big guy with the knife?