Jessica
“MA’AM, DO YOU know the man who owns the cabin next door, Samuel Larson?” asked Sheriff Harris Parker, an older man with kind blue eyes.
“No,” I said, sitting in the other cabin, the one owned by Annabelle Hunter. I’d told the police that I’d been renting it and didn’t know anyone in the area. “I’ve never met Mr. Larson. In fact, I don’t think he’s even been home this week.”
“Obviously you heard the screaming or the shots from next door?”
“To be honest, I was watching a movie in the bedroom. I didn’t hear anything,” I lied, still wondering where Jordan had disappeared to. The police had found the bodies of Reaper, Stryker, and the other club members, some shot and two mauled by the Grizzly. Apparently, someone had been on the lake and heard all of the commotion, so they’d radio
