Monarch by Geonn Cannon

Author:Geonn Cannon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: small towns, washington state, mystery fiction, lesbian fiction, queer fiction, squires isle, claire lance, lgbtq fiction
Publisher: Supposed Crimes, LLC

Chapter Nine

Claire drove out of town, passing the unmarked road to turn down Spence Alley. She wished she’d asked the woman at the post office how many people lived on this road, but it was too late now. She counted five mailboxes, but only two seemed to be in regular use. She wanted to cut her headlights but there was no way she’d be able to follow the road’s bends without them. Eventually she reached a straight stretch with a house on either side. She drove past the houses to what seemed like a dead end and parked with the headlights shining on a stand of trees packed so closely together they almost formed a natural fence.

She got out and opened the trunk. She traded her Stetson for a knit cap, pulled on a thick dark coat, and checked to make sure her gun was loaded before slipping it into her holster.

“Hooze air,” someone grunted from far too close to her.

She turned slowly and saw someone standing on the grass at the edge of the road. The trees had kept the snow here from being too thick, but she could still see a weaving trail of footprints leading back toward one of the houses. She couldn’t make out any of his features, but thin hair stood out in a halo around his head. He looked hunched over, more like a tree stump than a human being.

“Said ‘who’s there,’” he repeated, and this time she was able to make out the words.

“Sheriff Curran, sir. I’m just parking here on official police business.”

He said, “Sheriff? Of here? Sheriff here is an old man.”

“We’ve had a few hectic days, sir. I’m just going to cross through the back of your property to hopefully catch them by surprise.”

The man grunted. His head swiveled around, then snapped back to her. “Is your business ‘bout them fellas moved in over yonder?”

“It may. Why?”

He turned without answering and shuffled back toward the house. “Buncha lousy noisy...” He grumbled, his voice fading quickly.

Claire watched him go, then shook her head and shut the trunk. She was halfway across the lawn when the old man came shuffling up alongside her.

“Hold your dang horses. Here.”

She thought he was handing her a branch, but quickly realized it was a shotgun. “Sir, I can’t take that.”

“Y’oughta have one of yer own. I saw you with that little one, ain’t gonna scare these boys with that.” He gestured with it. “G’wan. Take it.”

She finally relented. “Thank you. I’ll return it when I come back to the car.”

He was already walking back toward the house. “Bring it back empty, and you’ll be doin’ e’ry one of us a favor.”

Claire waited until he was inside before she continued on her way.

The trees were tightly packed. She occasionally paused so she could use her phone’s flashlight to get her bearings before she went on. Fortunately it was only a short trek between the two roads and it wasn’t long before she could see by the light coming from Wyman’s properties.

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