Wounded (a mystery and a sweet romance)

Wounded: Chapter 13

Tara followed Malcolm through the marshy field separating the road from the village. Jasmine and Mandy were waiting in the car where they had pulled off the road a quarter mile back, out of sight of the troopers who were being obstinate in their unwillingness to call it a night.

Mud sucked at Tara’s shoes, and damp, head-high grass slapped her face. She would have preferred to walk up the long driveway they were paralleling, no matter how many potholes it contained, but Malcolm wanted to stay under cover. He had offered to make this trip on his own, but Tara felt she should be there to explain the situation if he got caught—attempt to explain the situation anyway. She also thought it would be a good idea to leave a note with some information in case something happened and she and the others weren’t able to return. Sam might not miss her, but Jasmine and Mandy were functioning parts of her community. Mandy’s mead made her popular, despite her sharp tongue.

“You’re sure there’s not any rope in your cottage?” Malcolm whispered. “Since it’s at the back of the village, we could probably sneak in without being noticed.”

“Sorry, no. I haven’t met anyone here I wanted to tie up yet.”

“Not even me?”

“Are you suggesting kinky foreplay or alluding to the fact that you were being an utter ass when we met?” Tara asked.

“Ah, the ass thing.”

“There’s a big tool shed behind Samantha’s cottage, if you want to risk checking in there,” Tara said. “There’s a light over the door though, and I think her bedroom faces that direction.”

Malcolm pushed through a few more feet of grass before responding. “Let’s see if we can find a low conk first.”

“All right, but I’m not sure if I can catch you if you fall.” Tara wondered how he planned to find a mushroom forty feet up the side of a tree in the dark.

They paused when they reached the end of the tall grass. The village had quieted in the last couple of hours, and most of the lights were out.

“Why don’t you go leave your message, and I’ll look for one?” Malcolm suggested.

“Okay.”

Tara waited for him to disappear into the trees, then veered for her cottage. She didn’t see any signs that the deputies lingered, but she couldn’t be sure that someone wasn’t watching from afar. She unlocked the front door and stepped inside. She had been at the cottage working earlier that afternoon, but it was hard to believe this was still part of the same day. Technically, she supposed it wasn’t—midnight had come and gone, even if she hadn’t slept yet.

Tara decided not to turn on a light and padded toward the desk and her laptop in the dark. She wanted to leave a note to explain everything, but she didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially someone who might attempt to forbid her from continuing with her questionable plan. By the light of the computer screen, she scribbled a note about the tree fungus, the value of the specimens, and that at least one picker was trying to sneak onto the property to collect samples. She didn’t mention Forks—if they were going to try and gather information by posing as sellers, they didn’t need a police car roaring up to the lab in the middle of things.

After finding tape in a drawer, Tara debated on where to leave the note. Her own door? Would people see it in the morning? Probably, but she could be more certain it would been see if she stuck it to Sam’s door.

Glad the community didn’t believe in leaving extraneous lights on all night, Tara walked to the cottage next to the visitor center. She wished she had a hood or a good old-fashioned cloak to hide her face, should anybody be peering out a window in the middle of the night, but that might be more suspicious anyway. Trying not to make a noise, she padded up the steps of Sam’s deck and taped the note to the door.