Kane could have returned to Maple Cabin; he could have spent the night watching the woman who had invaded his home, but there were bodies to dispose of and vehicles to submerge in the lake. Evidence would attract outsiders, and he wanted to be left in peace. With a sigh, he dragged Bob’s body into the vehicle, slammed the door and, with brute strength, pushed the car back down the trail towards the lake. He hoped that Lyra would be asleep; if she woke and found him disposing of Bob, she would be a threat, and then he would have to act to remove that threat. The thought of watching her run screaming from him sent a shiver through his body and flooded him with an urgent warmth. Her time would come, but for now, he would let her sleep.

After the strange events of her first day in Maple Cabin, Lyra decided, for her own peace of mind, to check on Bob and Amy. She drove into the town mid-morning, expecting to see the realtor’s shop open, but she found it closed. She tried hammering on the door, but no one answered. The sheriff’s station was only a few doors down; it was a small town, and between Amy’s disappearance and her vision of a man’s presence in her home during the night, Lyra thought it prudent to report matters to Sean. She hurried along the sidewalk and barged into the sheriff’s office.

The front desk was empty. Lyra banged on the bell to call for attention. She waited and then banged hard on it again several times. At length, Sean emerged from the back room.
‘Thank you,’ he moaned gruffly. ‘Thank you for checking the bell works.’ He seemed tired and irritable. He looked her up and down. ‘Oh,’ he huffed, ‘it’s you.’
‘Yes,’ Lyra replied. ‘I need to report something.’ She stopped and cast her mind over the string of events that had led her to the sheriff. ‘I mean a few things, maybe.’

The sheriff raised a quizzical eyebrow.
‘I kind of expected that,’ he barked. ‘Well, to be honest, I kind of expected not to see you again, missy.’ Lyra was taken aback. Was this more superstitious nonsense?
‘I think someone was in my house last night, watching me.’
The sheriff knitted his eyebrows.
‘Watching you, you say?’ Sean wondered how this woman was still alive; he knew of Kane. It was his job to keep the peace; some would say to cover up the mess.
‘Yes, I woke up and there was a man in the house, and I think the Penroses are missing.’ Sean thought carefully before responding; the last thing he wanted was to create alarm in the small town.

‘Now, why would you think they have gone missing?’ he barked with an impatient tone to his voice.
‘Amy left my house yesterday at six and Bob turned up looking for her at midnight, and just now I went to their shop and it’s closed.’
‘Hmm,’ Sean mused. ‘It’s closed, little lady, because they left town, is all. You were their last sale and they planned to leave.’
‘At midnight? They planned to leave at midnight?’
‘As I said, they waited a long time to sell the place and, well, you see, it’s their retirement, so they went.’
‘What about Bob looking for Amy at midnight?’ Sean sighed.
‘Amy liked a drink; she probably had a last one before they left.’
‘But,’ Lyra interrupted, much to the sheriff’s annoyance.
‘Look, lady, they left this morning; I saw them leave and they were both fine.’

Sean’s tone stunned Lyra into a brief silence. She was clearly getting nowhere with this line of questioning, and Sean seemed adamant that the couple had moved away. Surely, if there was a problem, he would investigate?
‘What about the man in my house?’ Lyra’s lip started to tremble; she felt out of place in the strange town. Sean sighed. The poor woman looked so vulnerable and terrified. His duty as sheriff of Forest Green was to ensure the safety and quiet of the town and keep outsiders and other irregularities under wraps. ‘Lady, I told you yesterday to leave.’ Sean’s tone had changed from a standoffish aggression to an imploring sympathy.

‘I can’t, sheriff,’ Lyra mumbled. ‘This is my home. This is what I’ve worked for and waited for all my life. I’m not going to just walk out.’ Her large, hazel eyes gazed up into his hard face. ‘Please, if there is anything I need to know, tell me.’ Sean sighed. Telling her would place them both in danger, but not telling her would most likely result in her horrific death. Sean unexpectedly rushed out from the counter and stuck his head out of the door. He glanced up and down the street to make sure no one was about and locked the door behind him.
‘Come with me,’ he whispered. Lyra followed him into the back room and then into a side office, which she assumed was an interrogation room.

‘Sit,’ Sean commanded, ‘and listen, and listen good!’ Lyra nodded and sat at the bare desk. The sheriff took his seat opposite. ‘Several years back, there was a boy, Kane. He was supposed to have drowned up there in that lake. Years later, his mother went mad, going on a killing spree. Her son, poor kid, was deformed, his father was abusive, and the kids were cruel.’
‘I heard this before. It doesn’t mean that…’ The sheriff put his hand up.
‘Listen, I told you,’ he ordered. Lyra closed her mouth. ‘During the massacre, one of the kids fought back and decapitated Mrs Dayton. Kane saw it happen.’
‘But you said he was dead,’ Lyra argued.
‘They thought he was dead, but he wasn’t. Living up in that wilderness, all feral for years. He lives there now; he doesn’t want people up there and we don’t want people going up there. We just want to live in peace, and so does he.’

Lyra thought silently for some time. Occasionally, her mouth opened and then closed again as she processed the information. At last, she spoke.
‘Have you actually seen Kane?’
‘Lady!’ the sheriff snapped. ‘I’ve seen enough and I’m telling you the facts. Now, you go back up there, it’s at your own risk. You’re lucky to be alive. I thought you would be long gone by now.’
‘He was in my house. He was there. Someone was there. What are you going to do about that?’ she asked confidently, her lower lip pouted in defiance.
‘Have you heard a word I’ve told you?’ Sean sighed. He was getting nowhere. ‘You need to leave!’
‘What about the old man, Harlon? He lives up there.’ The woman was starting to grate on Sean’s nerves.
‘He takes care of Kane. He’s a hermit, not a trespasser.’
‘I’m still alive,’ Lyra muttered.

Sean leaned forward across the desk and took the woman’s hands in his own.
‘Please, Lyra, leave for your own sake. No one here is going to help you. I don’t know why you’re still alive, but I know you might not be tomorrow if you go back.’
‘I won’t be forced out of my home, sheriff; this is everything I have worked for. Do you understand?’ Sean smiled wryly.
‘I do understand.’ Suddenly, he stood up. ‘I’ve put my life at risk telling you this. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, but I can try and protect you.’ He signalled for her to follow him back into the back room. There, he unlocked a filing cabinet and pulled out a handgun and a box of ammunition.

‘Take this.’ Lyra began to shake her head. ‘Take it before I change my mind.’ She took the weapon from his hands. ‘I don’t know if it will do you any good. That boy’s been shot and stabbed more times than I can remember, but I’d rather you had something than nothing.’ Lyra gave a shy smile; she realised that he was trying to be kind.
‘If you have never seen him yourself, how do you know so much?’ The sheriff sighed again; the woman was proving to be more troublesome than initially expected.
‘Harlon,’ he pursed his lips. ‘You didn’t hear that from me, but he’s possibly the only one who can help you.’ Lyra nodded her head and turned to leave. Once again, the sheriff grabbed her hand. ‘Please be careful.’ Lyra nodded. Sean accompanied her to the front desk and opened the door. Shell-shocked, Lyra wandered out of the station. ‘God be with you,’ Sean muttered under his breath.

Amy had judged the length of the walking trail perfectly. Within five minutes of getting home, Lyra found herself banging at the door of Harlon’s run-down shack. The generator rattled loudly as she waited. Harlon emerged from behind the cabin; he was a wizened old man. His overalls were grubby from tinkering with old engines, and a trilby hat hung on his head, covering a few smatters of grey hair. He gazed at the woman standing on his land; as he did, a look of recognition washed over his face.
‘It’s you,’ he uttered with surprise.
‘What?’ Lyra retorted.
‘Come in,’ he replied, ignoring her question.

Harlon doddered past Lyra and she followed him into the rickety cabin.
‘Sit where you can,’ he said, pointing at an old wooden chair. Harlon then proceeded to boil some water in a pot over an open fire that roared away in the fireplace. ‘I ain’t got much. Some malt, if you like?’ he asked whilst delving through some old cupboards, searching for a clean mug.
‘That’s alright. I’m not thirsty,’ Lyra explained. The old man did not seem to listen and continued to search until he found a mug for her.

‘Here, drink this,’ he said, handing her the filled mug. The taste was strong, and Lyra inadvertently screwed up her nose.
‘I came here because I think there was someone in my house and…’
‘You want Old Harlon to tell you about Kane?’ the man replied. Lyra nodded. ‘I’m guessing you already know. I’m guessing that sheriff there has a sweet spot for you and he already told you!’ Lyra opened her mouth.
‘How did you?’
‘How did I know? Old Harlon ain’t stupid, despite what folks might say.’ The man chuckled.
‘Was he in my cabin?’ Lyra asked cautiously. Harlon sat in the chair opposite and leaned forward, placing his chin on his wrinkly old hands.
‘Well, he sure was.’

Lyra’s eyes welled up with tears and panic shook her body.
‘He was watching me. He was there?’
‘Yep,’ the old man cackled. ‘He sure was.’
‘Then how come I’m not…’ Her voice trailed off in horror.
‘Dead?’ Harlon looked her up and down. ‘Only Kane can answer that, but you ain’t going getting that answer!’
‘Why?’ Lyra asked, instantly realising that it was a ridiculous question, as she was hardly going to confront a killer.
‘He’s a mute. Hasn’t spoken since the accident.’
‘He drowned?’
‘Nearly. I pulled him from the waters that day. He’s been here ever since,’ Harlon stated, pulling a bottle from the inside of his overalls. ‘Didn’t want to be a burden to his mother no more, you see.’ Lyra nodded.

Sean had been right; she was in danger. There was no way she could stay in Maple Cabin. She had to leave immediately. Lyra put the drink down on the table that sat between her and the old man.
‘I have to go,’ she muttered, rising to her feet. The old man did not move. A wicked smile crept over his face.
‘Why, you’re not going anywhere,’ he croaked.
‘What do you mean?’ A knot formed in Lyra’s stomach.
‘Well, you don’t got a car to start with.’
‘I do. I have a car,’ Lyra snapped, ‘and I am leaving right now.’ Harlon’s smile broadened.
‘You mean you did have a car!’ Lyra stared at the old man fearfully.
‘Where’s my car?’ she asked, riddled with fear. The old man pushed his body further forward.
‘Gone!’ he laughed.