Her Secret| ✓

02

GoodBye—Post Malon Ft Young Thug

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Morning. December 23rd, Monday

THE NORTH WIND HAD covered the ground with white the snow, piled high round ancient-looking tree trunks in the neighbors' yards, their tall branches fanned out like scarecrow fingers. Snow crunched under Erik Laurence's foot as he stepped out of Joel Whitefield's tiny white Kia.

As they drove through the city, he took note of the snow-capped mountains, here, though, little white flurries danced in the breeze. The intoxicating aroma of burning wood sent shivers of delight dancing up his spine, and he thought how good it felt to be home.

As Erik looked over his family's home, he saw smoke pouring out of the three chimneys, with a flick of his eye, he noted that his bedrooms' fireplace had been lit from the smoke that rolled off the chimney. Home. A three-story house with a wraparound deck, the foursquare-style house fit like a glove in the gated community.

"Mercer, an out of state U.S Marshal, has been identified as the as the victim," The news came out garbled, the anchor regurgitating the most recent development in the high-profile case.

"Asking for any known details of the victim, anything that will help. The police are calling it a copycat of the Jump rope murder from Massachusetts in 2004 and have not commented further on the details. A local," Erik turned down the radio as he unhooked his phone from the charger, Joel slapped his hand and turned it up.

"Ston has agreed to cooperate with the—" Joel scowled at Erik as he cranked the nob until the radio was off. "Help me with my luggage," Erik ordered and straightened.

"Do you have guests staying over? Or maybe they're just warming it up for you?" Joel asked, practical as ever, grabbing bags out of the trunk and holding them out to Erik, who looked quizzical. For a moment Joel caught him eyeing the bags as if he were surprised that Joel expected Erik to take them from his hands.

"Won't you take the bags?" Joel asked in a strained voice, exasperatedly holding heavy bags. "I've got a dinner date," He said as he shoved his sleeve back to check his watch. Erik put a hand to his lips in thought, still staring at the luggage and concluded something had to be done.

"I think not," Erik said in a hesitant voice as if it troubled his soul deeply.

"Always have to be an emperor, don't you?" Joel said in an annoyed voice, hefting the bags over his shoulder.

"To the door, cabby," was Erik's only reply as he walked on ahead. They chattered until Joel shut the car door.

Joel was a friend of the family who lived in the Tri-cities, and they had attended the same university, and after graduation. They had just come off a long flight from Boston, Massachusetts for a university class reunion function, he had driven Erik home from the airport on his way home. He stared at the bags he had dropped on the front steps of the house and rolled down the passenger window and said, "See you, bromie."

"Tell your Mum it was a pleasure to see her again, and that the reunion went well," Erik said in a deep voice, kicking the door with his snowy boot tip.

Erik felt in his blue Abercrombie and Fitch hoodie for his house keys as he walked up the steps to the front door and scooped up his bags and noticed an innocent small white slip of paper held down by a smooth round pebble. He picked it up and sighed as the door closed behind him.

"I'm home," He called, but he got no response. "Parents? Twins?" He tried again in a thinner voice, straining his arms free of his coat, at last, he tossed his keys into a bowl on a table near a coat rack and laid his pack by the door; the essence of burning wood made him smile.