Hemlock Veils

“I’ll stay out of the woods.”

His shoulders relaxed, and so did his brow.

“At night,” she finished in emphasis.

His brow tensed again.

“I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me, Sheriff.” She moved past him. “Believe it or not, I happen to have good instincts.”

He followed in a hurry, amidst the sound of Eustace’s chuckle. “Those instincts almost got you killed, Ms. Ashton.”

“Ah, the famous Ms. Ashton.” It came from the older gentleman standing by the sleek and sophisticated Maybach. He wore a simple gray suit and tie, and what little white hair remained atop his nearly bald head had been combed over. His smile was beyond warm. “The town is buzzing about you, young lady.”

The diner window framed curious faces. “I see that.”

He extended his hand and she took it. His eyes were close together and his nose large, but his shake was as warm as his smile, hinting at a most handsome soul. “I’m Arne Randolph.”

“Elizabeth,” she smiled. “But…you already knew that.”

He kissed her hand in an old-fashioned way, and she couldn’t help but be charmed. “It’s a pleasure, Elizabeth.”

“Please, you fool,” Eustace said. “She’s going to have enough of that to worry about from Brian.”

“Do I detect jealousy, Old Man?” Arne teased.

“Old man? I’m not much older than you.”

“You’re both old,” Taggart said. He walked across the street to the diner, turning back only briefly. “We’ll be inside when you’re ready, Ms. Ashton.”

“Thank you,” she called, even though he was already inside. It might take more time for Taggart to warm up to her, but regardless of his resistance, Elizabeth was fond of him. Clearly, he cared about the welfare of his town.

“You should be grateful you’re still alive after gallivanting through the woods with this old coot,” Arne said, his shoulders still square and his hands folded formally in front of him. His voice had a raspy, timeless passion to it.

Elizabeth chuckled and Eustace threw her a quick glance. “I did save her life, Randolph.”

“After she saved yours, I hear.”

“How do you hear things anyway? You never set foot inside with us. And with that hearing aid, it’s a wonder you know anything going on around here.”

Arne smiled. “I could ask how you eat with that nest on your chin, but some of us have class.”

Eustace waved his arm. As he crossed the street, he said behind him, “I’ll let that slide this time, only because you have to put up with the boss all day. I do feel sorry for you there, old friend.” And with another shake of the head, he disappeared inside the diner. It may have been a joke, but Elizabeth sensed some sincerity to it, whatever it meant.

Arne, however, looked unaffected. “I hope you enjoy your short stay here, Elizabeth. Aside from senile geezers, the town has much to offer.” Something lingered in his brownish-blue eyes, something knowing.

She studied them before looking down Clayton Road at the charming town, then behind her at the old-growth forest. “I think I figured that out the moment I arrived.”

“I’m sure you did.” His eyes, still on hers, appeared to be smiling. “And don’t let Sheriff Taggart, or anyone else, scare you away. People are just protective of their homes, and protective of you.”

“I understand.” They exchanged a smile. “But I don’t scare easily.”

“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?”

Chapter 6

Henry Clayton placed the white ceramic coffee mug to his lips carefully since it still steamed. The coffee, acrid and dull, was the worst he’d ever tasted, but this diner was his only co

But something u

“Did you see how she totally sidestepped the issue?” Nicole spewed with a low whisper. “Like her attack was nothing!” Henry wouldn’t call it much of an attack. Regina rolled her almost-black eyes, reminding him why she had always been one of his favorites here. From over the rim of his newspaper, Henry watched: she and Nicole stood at Brian, Taggart, and Eustace’s booth, Nicole bending just low enough for her breasts to stare Brian in the face.

“Yeah, it’s something,” Brian said, only slightly distracted.

Nicole clenched her jaw and placed a hand on her hip. She had never taken well to someone stealing her attention. For the past two years, ever since her own encounter with the beast, she had played the perfect victim. Brian had fallen for her damsel-in-distress act many times, comforting her until emotions ran hot and her end goal—and his—was quickly accomplished: in Brian’s shop, in the diner’s kitchen, and even behind the Dumpster. Henry had caught them once before, thankfully before it had progressed into something that would always haunt him, but he didn’t have to witness it to know it happened frequently. Word traveled fast in this town, and whether or not people thought Henry was just a detail of the background, he had ears in many places.

He wanted to lay down a law or town code that would prohibit such behavior. Not just because of his biased opinion on the matter, but because of the distress it gave Regina. But it wasn’t his business. He may have his hold on many things in this town, but people’s personal lives were their own; no matter how much he disagreed with them.

However, now that Ms. Ashton was in Hemlock Veils, stealing the limelight, Nicole’s grief would be thrown to the wayside. There was someone new to ooh and ahh over, someone from the outside. Though the change disrupted everything, Henry had to admit that the jealousy tainting Nicole’s already tainted features was satisfying.

“She’s brave,” Regina said again, for the tenth time since Henry had come in. She’d said it to Eustace when he’d entered the diner only a minute before, too, and Taggart just before that. And like Brian did the first few times she’d said it, he nodded, which seemed to irritate Nicole. Hemlock Veils didn’t see many outsiders, especially ones who’d stayed overnight. Hopefully, when the novelty of it all wore off, things would get back to normal.

Henry sighed, attempting to ignore the hype as he lowered his eyes and read the paper from his corner of the diner.

The headline on the article in front of him jumped off the page. His heart nearly stopped at the name in bold letters: Shane O’Do

The article was about the Life on Wheels Foundation in Portland and how it had saved so many young people’s lives, including Shane’s. Henry read, wiping his suddenly tense brow.

We asked twenty-eight-year-old Shane O’Do