Best of 2017

She fought a smile and lost. “If you say so.”

He turned back to me. “Be careful out in the woods. The snakes will be hibernating, but there are other nasties out there. It’s turkey season, first of all. So there will be hunters out and about. Then wild boars that could skewer you clean through. I’ve heard about panthers from hunters here and there. Never seen one though. And don’t wear white. We don’t want someone mistaking you for a white-tail deer and taking a shot. You have a cell phone, right?” He took a drink as Bonnie put in his order.

“Yes.” I studied him as he spoke, the clean line of his jaw, the slight salt mixed into the dark pepper of his hair. He was handsome, and the allure of men in uniform wasn’t lost on me. Early forties, but still had the verve of a younger man, the same sort of twinkle in his eye and easy smile. I knew from scouring newspapers that he’d become sheriff two years prior, after the then-sheriff died.

“Good service?” He glanced to the cell phone I drew from my pocket.

“So far, but I haven’t been off the main road much.”

“It might get dicey if you get deep into the woods. Here.” He snagged a napkin and wrote down a phone number. “This is my direct line. If you get into anything you can’t handle, give me a call. If you lose service, I suggest you go back the way you came. There’s no need to take risks.”

“Are you going to Blackwood?” Bonnie slid my plate in front of me, the yellow egg yolks jiggling as the plate came to rest.

“Yes.” I didn’t want to share too much of my plans. There was no way to know who to trust. “There and a few surrounding homesteads.”

“Any spots in particular?” Bonnie took her usual spot against the counter, her eyes on the road. “Those woods are haunted, you know?”

“Bonnie.” Sheriff Crow shook his head and laughed lightly. “Nothing’s haunted. Don’t try to scare her.”

Bonnie drew her expertly arched brows together and put her hands on her hips. “Then how do you explain the screams? People all over say they hear screams in those woods at night. If you see that Garrett Blackwood, run. Understand?”

“Why?”

She crossed herself, her neon pink fingernail scratching across her starched top.

“Bonnie, you aren’t Catholic.” The sheriff quirked his lip up in amusement.

“Doesn’t matter. That man is bad news. Steer clear of him. Him and that Blackwood are cursed, if you ask me.”

I conjured the limited image of Garrett Blackwood in my mind—the wild eyes through the window and the dirty fingernails on the door. Other than our brief run-in, I knew nothing about him other than what I’d found out in my research, which was enough to place a shroud of suspicion over him.

He’d gone to my university, graduating with top marks in history and ancient cultures. I found a picture of him in the school yearbook. Deep blue eyes and dark brown hair—he smiled at someone off camera when the photo was snapped. I couldn’t reconcile that smiling face with the glimpse of the man I’d gotten at the Blackwood estate.

After graduation, he’d taught for a few years at a university in Alabama on a tenure-track position. Something happened in his sixth year, though, and he abruptly left school. Rumors were that he’d been embroiled in a scandal with a married female professor, but other than hazy rumors, I had nothing to go on. What did interest me was that he’d returned to Blackwood at around the same time as my father’s disappearance.

“What makes you think Blackwood’s cursed?” I leaned forward, desperate for more of the urban legends that might shed some light on my father’s fate. Bonnie wasn’t the first person who mentioned screams in the woods near the Blackwood Estate.

Sheriff Crow huffed out a breath. “Superstitious nonsense. Wind in the trees or some kind of animal. There aren’t any ghosts, Bonnie. And Garrett is just a quiet guy who likes his space. That’s all.”

She leveled her gaze at me. “I wouldn’t be caught in Blackwood after dark, and neither should you.”

“That’s good advice.” He arched a brow at Bonnie. “Even if we’re giving it for different reasons. The ghost talk is ridiculous, and Garrett isn’t a bad guy. You should be out of the woods by sunset because you don’t want to get lost or stay out in these temperatures. Always know where the road is. You got a compass?”

I pulled one from my pocket. “Sure do.” I had two others stowed in my backpack.

“Good. Always check it when you get out of the car.”

I wanted to tell him I could survive in the woods for days, that I’d prepared for handling anything that came my way, that my dad had taught me how to shoot, skin rabbits, read a compass, and build a fire by the time I was twelve. That I had a knife and a gun, and knew how to use both. Instead, I nodded and smiled along like he was giving me the keys to the kingdom.

“How do you even know where to look?” Bonnie still didn’t seem too keen on me exploring alone.

“The Choctaw generally preferred level spots near strong water sources, so I’ll scope those out first.”

“So along rivers and such?” Bonnie crinkled her nose.

“Right. I’m going to start surveying in those areas, see what I can see. All the history I’ve managed to dig up points to a possible Choctaw village at the southwest edge of Blackwood where the trees open up onto a grassy field.”

Sheriff Crow scratched his chin. “I think I know where you mean. It’s a flood plain, more or less. Dark dirt there, good for growing, but I’ve never really dug down. Garrett gave you permission to dig?”

My mouth went dry and I took a sip of coffee before responding. “Yes, well, he gave permission for me to survey. I won’t start digging until the spring when I’ll have undergraduates out here to help me. But, of course, I have to find something first. Some sort of clue to point me in the right direction. If I can find some arrowheads or pottery—any artifacts, really—at a few spots, then I’ll be able to start digging.” I swallowed hard. “With Mr. Blackwood’s permission, naturally.”

“Right.” He thanked Bonnie as she set his plate in front of him, the grits swimming in butter. “Like I said, if you need anything or get into any issues out there, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Though I felt more than prepared for my task, it was comforting to know I had backup if I ran into any trouble. “Will do.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ve interrupted you for long enough.” He gave me another smile, the wrinkles around his eyes barely making an appearance. “Bonnie might take my head off if I talk until your food gets cold.”

“You do like to talk, Sheriff.” She grinned and twirled a lock of hair around her finger, the flirtation obvious and only slightly awkward. “Good thing I don’t mind listening.”

“Bonnie,” Ty called from the back.

She rolled her eyes, then disappeared through the narrow door into the kitchen.

I sliced through my eggs and scooped them onto my toast as two men from a logging truck walked into the diner. They exchanged bleary-eyed “good mornings” and sat down at the bar. I’d only taken a few more bites when the door opened again.

A man in an ill-fitting navy suit hustled in. His collar hung loose around his neck, as if he’d lost a great deal of weight but still felt he could wear the super-size clothes. He gave me a lopsided smiled and plunked down next to Sheriff Crow. Something about his gray hair and sagging face seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Sheriff.”

“Mayor.” Sheriff Crow took a long pull from his cup. “You aren’t going to the winter market opening?”

Mayor. I’d seen him before in news clippings, but he’d been a much larger man. He must have dropped the weight recently. He was only forty-five but looked more like a shrunken sixty.

“Of course.” He shot a glance to the kitchen door. “Where’s Bonnie, and who do we have here?” He turned to me.

“This is Elise from the university. She’s doing the—”

“Digging. Right?” The mayor leaned back

ward so he could see me past the sheriff. “Out on the western side of the county?”

“Yes.” I took a bite of cheese grits. “I’m surveying out there and digging if the property owners agree.”

He drew his gray brows together. “Just don’t bother anyone. I have enough complaints to deal with around here.”

“Len.” Sheriff Crow clapped him on the back. “Come on. She may bring more visitors to the county. Money, too. What if she finds some sort of, I don’t know, village or something? Good press.”

I took a swig of my coffee to try and fight off the awkward the mayor’s words had created.

“Bonnie!” he called. “I need my regular to go.”