Missy Crawford's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Silas Thornwood had cracked her case open. But Missy would not take a drifter at his word. The next morning she walked to the abandoned cabin at the edge of the woods. If Silas truly watched this place, she would learn why. She would find his camp, read his tracks, and judge the man by what he hid. The cabin sagged against the trees. Its porch steps had splintered through. Faded gray boards curled off the walls, and one window gaped with broken glass. Missy climbed the broken steps and pushed the green door. It scraped inward. Dust hung in the gray light. She found his camp inside, behind a wall braced with bold wooden crossbeams. A blanket. A cold fire ring. A tin cup. This was no robber's hideout. It was a poor man's bed. Then she saw the chest in the corner. The chest was old and dust-covered. A small brass padlock held it shut. Missy knelt and pulled. The lock held. Whatever Silas guarded, he guarded it close. "That's mine." Missy spun. Silas filled the doorway, an armload of firewood against his chest. He let the wood drop. The logs clattered on the floor. He did not step toward her. He only looked at the chest, then at her hand on its lid. "You came to search me," he said. His voice stayed flat. "Go on, then. Finish." "I need to know why you watch this place," Missy said. "A man who hides in the woods and spies on a ruined cabin. Tell me the truth, or I walk away from everything you said." Silas crossed the room. He dug a key from his collar and knelt. The padlock snapped open. He lifted the lid. Inside lay a woman's shawl, folded with care. A faded photograph. A stack of letters tied with string. He lifted the photograph and held it out. "My daughter," he said. "She met a man last spring. Green vest. A ring like a wolf's head. He promised to wed her. He took her savings and left her shamed." His jaw tightened. "She drowned herself in the creek a mile from here. I camp by this cabin because he hunts here. I mean to see his face." Missy stared at the photograph. A young woman smiled back, bright and whole. She thought of the witness at her table, twisting her shawl, so close to the same cliff. "Then we want the same man," Missy said. Silas closed the chest. "I've watched three nights more since we spoke. Last night he came back." He met her eyes. "He didn't meet a girl. He pried up a floorboard under this very room and buried something. Then he left." Missy looked down at the dusty boards beneath her knees. Her trail was no longer cold. The charmer kept a cache here, and now she knew where he would return.