Bree took his arm. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” She could tell them she’d found him on the street.
“No.” He pulled away, walking toward the brightly colored fruits and vegetables, floor-to-ceiling shelves of food, cereal boxes, pastries, and breads.
“I thought you were having a heart attack,” she said, hurrying after him. He didn’t hear her. He was already halfway to the bananas. Shopping with him would be fun.
Half an hour later, she’d changed her mind. “Stop eating the grapes, before they throw us out of the store,” she hissed. The produce manager watched them from the corner of his eye while pretending to stack oranges.
“I’m hungry.”
He couldn’t be hungry. He’d just eaten ten tacos and half a pound of grapes. “Here, eat a granola bar. We can pay for it. I’m going to get another cart,” Bree said. They’d already filled one. “Don’t eat anything else.”
Faelan stuffed his mouth with granola like a starving toddler and moved down the aisle with the loaded cart. Bree grabbed an empty one and squeaked back. She rounded the corner and stopped. Faelan wasn’t chewing. That was a good sign. The package he was reading wasn’t. He glanced up, mouth parted, eyes dark, and the hand holding the box of extra large condoms darted behind his back.
“Ice cream. We need ice cream. Meet me in the freezer section.” Her cart thumped along, squeak, bump, squeak, bump, as she fanned her heated face. She yanked out a carton of Caramel Delight, and a reflection appeared in the glass, right there beside the Chunky Monkey. Her heart froze. Russell! She whirled, searching the aisle for his dark blond head. It couldn’t be Russell. He was in Florida.
“Hello, Bree.”
She yelped and spun again, and the carton of ice cream shot out of her arms like a torpedo. “Peter!” Peter Rourke was a homicide detective. One of her grandmother’s dearest friends.
Peter chuckled, retrieved the ice cream from the floor, and placed it in her cart. “I swear, you remind me of Emily. Haven’t seen much of you since the funeral. You doing okay?”
“Good as can be expected.” Bree glanced toward the aisle where she’d left Faelan and saw him park the cart near the restrooms. “I still miss her. I think I always will.”
“Me too.” He sighed. “I’m glad I ran into you. I stopped by…”
She tuned him out, her thoughts racing. She had to get rid of Peter before Faelan got back. She took a couple of steps backward so she could see Faelan coming before Peter spotted him. Thank God they’d put the tote bag with his old clothes and boots in the car. How would she explain that? How would she explain Faelan? She wasn’t even sure who he was, what he was.
“…strangers in the area.”
“What did you say? Strangers?”
“You sure you’re okay?”
She nodded. “What about strangers?”
“A couple of campers saw something suspicious near your place.”
“Suspicious?” Breathe in, breathe out. Had someone seen her dragging Faelan out of the crypt? If the world found out about him, she’d lose him. Someone else would solve her mystery.
“This morning, before sunrise. They were pretty shaken, rambling a bunch of nonsense about… well, it won’t do any good to go into that. Must have been watching too many scary movies, but we had to check it out.” He paused and leaned closer. “We found a body in the woods behind your house.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It was bad, Bree. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Bree’s legs felt like a paper doll’s. A dead body? In her woods? Was that the scream they’d heard? “Who was it?”
“Don’t know yet. We’re talking to the campers. The man was… torn up,” Peter said. “Or else an animal got him. He’d been dragged through the woods.”
She remembered the shadow outside the bathroom window. Had she seen the killer?
“Whatever or whoever did it was big. And strong.”
Strong. Like Faelan, who’d looked ferocious enough to uproot a tree with his bare hands when she’d followed him? And she was almost certain he’d tried to hide a bloody footprint. But he was with her when they heard the scream, and he hadn’t been out of her sight long enough to kill someone and drag him through the woods. “I haven’t seen anything.”
Maybe he had. That might explain his desire to leave.
“Call me if you do. Better yet, why don’t you stay with me for a few days? I’d feel more comfortable if you were away from there.”
“Thanks, but I’m expecting some books I have to sign for. I’ll be careful.”
“Just like Emily,” he said with a wistful smile. “You could fill a room with all those books. Well, promise me you’ll be careful. We’re trying to keep this quiet, but your grandmother would come back and haunt me if I didn’t warn you. Maybe get that young man of yours, the archeologist, to stay for a few days. We’re patrolling the area, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a strong man around.”
She had a strong man around, but was he the one they were looking for?
“Did you know they have toilets on the wall—” Faelan stopped short when he saw Bree wasn’t alone. His gaze darted between Peter and Bree. He was still several feet away, but it was too late to pretend she didn’t know him.
“And this is?” Peter asked quietly, his shrewd cop eyes assessing Faelan and the loaded shopping cart.
“Faelan. He’s here for a visit.”
