Alex Standall's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Alex reached the tree line and stopped. A car sat parked down the road, dark, engine off. He knew the shape. The small hatchback. Samantha Evans hadn't gone home. She'd doubled back to watch the cottage. "She's still here," Alex whispered. Mystic pressed flat against his shoulder. "If she sees me walk into the woods, I'm done. She'll say I ran to hide a body." "Then wait," the bird said. "Patience is your one trick." Alex backed into the shadows by the stone wall. He counted his breaths. He watched her window for movement. An hour passed. The body was out there, buried, and dawn was coming. He couldn't wait forever. He decided to slip behind the cottage and reach the trees from the far side, out of her view. He moved low along the silver wall. His boot caught a loose stone. It rolled and cracked against the step. A door opened. "I hear you," Samantha called. Her flashlight swept the yard and pinned him. She walked straight at him, fast, sure of the ground. "Sneaking to the woods. At this hour." She wasn't afraid of him. That was the thing about her. "I told you this wasn't over." "You've got no reason to be on my land," Alex said. "Watch me." She raised her phone and started filming. Mystic broke first. The cockatoo launched off Alex's shoulder and beat his wings between them. "Leave him," the bird screeched. "Leave him alone!" Samantha froze. The flashlight shook in her hand. The black and red bird hung in the air, talking, its tiny necklace catching the light. "That bird talked," she said. Her voice cracked. "That bird just talked." "He's a parrot," Alex said. "They mimic." "No." She backed a step. "It said your name. It answered me." Her phone was still recording, aimed at Mystic now. "I've got it. I've got all of it." Alex reached for the phone. She twisted away. "Don't," she snapped. Then she turned and ran for her car, thumbs already moving on the screen. By the time the cruiser returned, she'd shown the deputy the video. Alex crouching at his own wall in the dark. Alex reaching for her. She never mentioned the bird. She was too smart for that. "He grabbed at me," she told them. "On his property, at three in the morning, heading for the crime scene." The deputy looked tired and unconvinced by Alex's silence. "Assault complaint, trespass dispute, and you creeping the woods again," he said. "I can't ignore all three. You're coming in." The cuffs bit cold. Alex looked back at the roof line. Mystic sat on the black stone, still, watching him go. "Find it," Alex called to the bird. "The body. Before she does." The deputy shoved his head down into the car. The door slammed. Through the glass Alex watched the woods shrink away, the grave still out there, and himself driving the wrong direction.