Secrets of the Deadwood (Teaser)

Secrets of the Deadwoods (Teaser)

The Deadwoods were moist and humid from the recent rainfall in Corinth. Da Vinci sauntered along ahead, his tail raised and straight as an arrow. His hindquarters zigzagged through the underbrush of the woods and his tiny paws picked carefully over wet things.

"How much farther is it?" I complained.

Although the weatherman had promised cooling temperatures in anticipation of fall, summer held on with the single-minded vengeance of an ex-girlfriend. I swiped at my forehead and held my shirt collar away from my sticky skin for better ventilation.

"It's just around the corner," he advised me. "Stop sniveling human."

I grumbled under my breath as I followed the orange tabby begrudgingly to the corpse. We rounded a large tree with a knotted trunk and overgrown roots that stuck up through the soil. Sprawled out behind it and half-buried underneath a fresh pile of leaves was the body Da Vinci had reported earlier this morning.

"Well, I'll be..." I whispered. "You were telling the truth."

Da Vinci leapt up onto the stump of a fallen oak tree and cleaned his paws. The body was male and covered in various insects. Its pale, waxen skin had bloated, and the torn clothing covering the torso was saturated with rain and mud.

"Can you tell who it is?" I asked, covering my nose with my hand. Though the corpse looked recent, the smell of decay permeated the surrounding air. Flies buzzed around it, alighting, and then taking flight again. Da Vinci continued his bath, calm as ever, and twitched his ear.

"I think it's Dan Cumberland," he said.

"Dan- the real estate agent?"

"Unless you know of any other Dans," Da Vinci said offhandedly.

I crept closer to examine the bloated remains, holding my breath as I peered into the face. The eyes were open and sightless. The hands were curled with rigor, the fingernails encrusted with dirt and plant materials. I wondered how much trouble I would be in for corrupting the crime scene. Sheriff Eagan was no fan of mine ever since I'd dated and dumped his idiot son, Beckley.

"That's going to be an uncomfortable phone call," Da Vinci remarked, mirroring my thoughts.

"No kidding."

***

By the time Sheriff Eagan arrived, Da Vinci had gone home. I'd promised him a can of tuna once I was through here, so I'd have to stop by Gröben's Little Market on East Pickwick Avenue on my way home. The distance between Dan's body and my house was less than two miles, but it felt farther in the heat of the day. Sheriff Eagan stepped over the legs of the body; his oversized pants stretched to capacity. His generous belly hung over the waistline like under-cooked custard overflowing its dish. A cowboy hat covered his thinning brown hair, and his plain white polo T-shirt had his name and rank embroidered across the left side of the chest. The telltale star was pinned to the right of his chest, winking in the sunlight breaking through the canopy of trees.

"That's Dan, alright," he grumbled, stumbling back to where I stood.

I gagged as a small gust of wind ruffled the trees and wafted the smell through my nostrils again.

"How did you say you found him?"

Gary Eagan eyed me with the suspicion of a lobster in a seafood tank. Ever since I'd dated his son, I'd had to watch my speed carefully and ensure I parked within the lines. My tags were always up to date and my taillights always worked. Sheriff Eagan was itching to make trouble for me.