“It’s Hoyt,” she replied. “Amey Hoyt.”
“Well, Mrs. Hoyt,” Jonathon said, “why don’t you have a seat?”
The door opened, and a woman with fading blonde hair entered. Her steps faltered at the sight of the unexpected guests.
Jonathon spoke up. “There you are, my dear,” he began, “let me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Hoyt. They’re friends of Jacob Tiner’s.”
The woman smiled warmly at them. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Lois.”
“Would you mind tending to Mrs. Hoyt’s wounds?” Jacob asked.
“Wounds? Oh dear!” Lois walked over to Amey and asked, “May I see?”
Amey placed her right arm on the table. “It’s nothing, really. Lincoln knocked me to the ground, and I unfortunately scraped my arm.”
Lois leaned closer and examined her wound. “First thing we need to do is to clean the wound. We wouldn’t want an infection to set in. But I do agree with you. I think it’s just a bad scrape.”
“You have a lovely home,” Amey remarked as her eyes roamed the cabin.
“Thank you,” Lois replied as she grabbed a bucket and filled it with water from the pump at the sink. “It suits our needs nicely.”
Jonathon walked over to the door and said, “I believe this is a good time to go get some wood from the woodpile.” His eyes landed on his son. “You coming, Will?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
“I’d be happy to help, as well,” Lincoln offered.
“I’ll gladly accept your help,” Jonathon replied, opening the door. “Bringing in wood is a tedious job, but an important one.”
They’d just walked around the cabin to collect the wood when a lanky young man broke through the trees. He put his hand up in greeting as he approached. “Hello, Pa.”
“Where’ve you been, John?” Jonathon asked in a frustrated tone.
“I have been setting traps,” John replied.
Jonathon frowned. “You’ve been gone all morning.”
John just smiled. “It takes a long time to set traps.”
“Now that you’re back, it’s time for you to start your other chores,” Jonathon ordered.
His smile dimmed. “Yes, Pa.”
When John started walking away, Jonathon shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that boy,” he said. “He just turned seventeen, and it’s a struggle with him every day.”
“Perhaps he’ll grow out of it,” Lincoln suggested, picking up several pieces of wood and cradling them in his free arm.
“Perhaps,” Jacob replied, but he didn’t sound convinced.
With wood piled high in their arms, they entered the cabin and placed it near the fireplace.
“Good timing,” Lois remarked, putting the cloth back into the water. “I just finished cleaning the wound, and I don’t believe it requires any stitching.”
“Thank you,” Amey acknowledged. “That was most kind of you.”
Lois smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am,” Lincoln said, tipping his hat.
“Any friend of Jacob’s is a friend of ours,” Lois replied graciously, rising from her chair.
Amey rose and said, “We’d best be off.”
After saying their goodbyes, Lincoln escorted Amey out the door and back toward the woods. “Do you need to go back to the hotel to rest?”
Amey gave him a baffled look. “Why would I need to do that?”
“Because you’re injured,” he said, pointing at her right arm.
Holding it up in front of her, she replied, “I would hardly call this an injury.”
“Then are you up for searching the woods?”
Amey smiled playfully. “Lead the way, Mr. Lead Agent.”
Amey was exhausted. They’d spent the past few hours searching the woods but had found no sign of the fabric. They’d seen plenty of chipmunks, deer, and birds, though. As they continued further and further into the woods, they had come across a few streams and even a beaver in the process of building a dam.
Perhaps they had it wrong.
What if Doris never made it to the woods?
“I need a break,” she announced as she sat down on a log near a small stream.
Lincoln nodded and came to sit down next to her. “Is this too taxing because of your inj—”
She cut him off. “Do not finish that sentence,” she said firmly. “This has nothing to do with the scrapes on my arm.”
Putting his hands up in front of him, Lincoln replied, “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
“What if we got it wrong?” she asked.
“Got what wrong?”
She shifted on the log to face him. “What if Doris never made it into the woods?”
“You think she was killed right as she left town?”
She shrugged. “Possibly, but we still can’t rule out the fact that she could have been abducted and killed somewhere else.”
“I suppose so, but don’t you think someone would have heard her screams?”
“What if she got into a wagon with someone she trusted?”
Lincoln shifted his gaze away from hers. “Like Jonathon Croft?”
“Like Jonathon Croft or someone else from town,” she remarked. “Didn’t the sheriff say that Longworth was a caring town?”
“If that’s the case then everyone in town is a suspect,” Lincoln stated.
She let out a sigh. “It seems logical that she was killed in these woods, but we’ve found no sign of the fabric.”
“What if the person who killed her took the fabric with them?” Lincoln questioned. “Maybe that’s why we haven’t found it.”
“If that’s the case, then how will we ever discover where she was killed?” Amey asked. “After all, any evidence will likely have disappeared after three weeks.”
“What if she had a favorite spot where she liked to sit?” he asked, pointing toward the stream. “This is a serene spot.”
“But it’s so deep in the woods,” she argued. “What if she encountered a bear or mountain lion?”
“She could have carried a gun on her person.”
“If that was the case, why didn’t she use it to save herself?” Amey questioned.
Lincoln lifted his brow. “How do you know she didn’t?”
“Good point,” she replied. “We need to ask Jacob if Doris was known to carry a gun.”
“We’re missing something here.”
“I agree,” she said, rising. “We need to find that fabric, and I think it might be best if we
