a deadly storm, an unsolved disappearance, and a small town brimming with secrecy;
an outcast girl, a boy who only knows how to hide, and the world against them;
what could go wrong?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A week passes with little progression in Boo's makeshift investigation. She works a few half-shifts, spends time with Harry, drinks the occasional iced coffee at the Little Bean, and tries to find the crumbling pieces of normalcy still left in her life. The days are getting hotter and longer, and yet the chill she's felt for the past few weeks continues to follow her every step. Strangely enough, she barely hears a peep from her "friends" down at the police department. Only once does she spot Loughton out and about while at the grocery store one random afternoon, but he barely gives her a passing glance.
Her break from the mundane comes when she receives a call from Ashton while she's out at the Little Bean, halfway through an iced coffee with extra whip.
"Miss Taylor, how are you?" he greets her, sounding oddly cheerful.
"Miss Taylor?" Boo echoes, wrinkling her nose. "I told you to call me Boo. 'Miss Taylor' sounds like I'm about to get in trouble."
Ashton lets out a ringing laugh. "Okay, fine, Boo. Just a bit strange to call someone a nickname when I'm helping them for work purposes."
"You'll get over it," she muses, absently scratching out a half-written note she's scribed in Harry's journal. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I have some news about your friend, Hosk," Ashton says. "Are you able to talk for a few minutes?"
"Sure, sure," Boo agrees hurriedly. "What did you find out?"
Ashton sighs and Boo hears the distant rustling of papers shuffling in the background. "Well, I was right about him being a new hire. But he's not from Harrisford or Jack Creek, he's a transfer from the Stocking County department. He was a patrol officer for about a year before being transferred to desk duty, and he started here a couple weeks ago on the recommendation of Captain Waters."
"Nathaniel?" Boo repeats, incredulous. No wonder Hosk seems like an enemy. "I don't trust anyone recommended by him," she finishes bitterly.
"Duly noted," Ashton chuckles. "He was also absent for about a week due to a facial injury; claimed he got socked in the face during a bar fight, but he never went to the hospital for it. He just started back yesterday."
"Did you see his face before he left?"
"No, unfortunately. He's still bruised but it's definitely healing now."
Boo pauses, her eyebrows knitting in momentary concentration. "What side of his face was he hit on?"
"Right . . . yes, right side," Ashton answers. "Why?"
Boo scoffs, already knowing deep in her gut that Hosk is the one who broke into her house. "I hit the burglar with my left hand."
"So the bruise would be on the right side of his face," Ashton says slowly, following along. "Getting hit that hard with someone's left hand is pretty rare, most folks are right-handed."
