Myths, Murder & Love

Chapter 17

Leon’s phone rang a little after six.

Thallia surfaced from sleep at the sound, disoriented by the unfamiliar room and the low murmur of Leon’s voice in the hallway.

“Argos.”

She couldn't hear the person on the other end, but Leon's voice turned serious.

“Where?”

A pause.

“Who found him?”

Leon listened.

“Keep everyone out of the area. I’m on my way.”

Thallia opened her eyes.

Him. He was still there.

The remnants of the dream returned with the word. Cold earth against her cheek. Falling water. Pain tearing through her neck.

She pushed herself upright as Leon appeared in the bedroom doorway. He was dressed except for his boots, his phone still in his hand.

“What happened?”

Leon hesitated.

Thallia caught it immediately. “Someone died.”

“County dispatch got a nine-one-one call a few minutes ago,” Leon said. “A man was found dead at a local business.”

Her stomach tightened. “How?”

“I don’t know yet.” He walked down the hall to retrieve his shoes and jacket.

Thallia felt her journalistic instincts kick in. “Where?”

Leon hesitated. “Crossing River Nursery.”

Thallia stared at him. She'd been there yesterday. The rows of plants. The open nursery grounds. The broad stone fountain near the center.

She felt queasy.

Water. Falling water.

She took a breath, fighting the nausea. She swallowed. “Leon... there’s a fountain there.”

His expression shifted.

Thallia watched him put the same pieces together.

“You think it might be what I saw.”

Leon stepped closer. “I don’t know what happened yet.”

Thallia studied his face. His caution didn't hide the fact that he'd made the same connection she had.

“I want to come.” She got out of bed.

“No.” The answer came faster than he intended.

Thallia's expression cooled.

Leon softened his voice. “If this is a crime scene, I need to do my job before anyone starts moving through it…”

“I know how crime scenes work,” Thallia reminded him.

Leon gave her a measured look. “I imagine you do.”

Thallia held his gaze. “Then take me with you.”

Leon shook his head. “Not this time.”

Thallia folded her arms. He had the distinct impression the discussion was not over.

His phone rang again. Leon glanced at the screen. “I have to go.”

Thallia stepped aside. “Fine.”

Leon knew enough about her already to recognize that particular version of the word.

He almost smiled. “I'll call you.”

She didn't answer and Leon headed down the hall.

The sun had only begun touching the upper canyon walls when Leon pulled onto Main Street.

Olympia Springs was barely awake. He was still several blocks from Crossing River Nursery when he saw Lydia standing beside the road.

Leon slowed, unsurprised to find her waiting for him.

He pulled over.

Lydia waited while he got out.

“You're up early,” Leon said.

Her smile was soft, and her eyes gentle. “So are you.”

“I'm working.”

Lydia studied him.

“The difficult thing about trust, Leon, is that it matters most when what you're being asked to believe makes no sense.”

Leon stopped.

Last night returned immediately. Thallia shaking in his arms.

Her words came back to him.

I felt him die.

Lydia looked toward the pale light beginning to spread above the canyon.

“We close our eyes because we believe sleep will hide the world from us for a few hours.”

Her gaze returned to Leon. “It doesn't hide everything from Thallia.”

Lydia had never met Thallia. She had never spoken to her. And Leon had told no one what happened during the night.

He didn't need Lydia to explain how she knew. He'd known her far too long for that.

What mattered was that she'd chosen to tell him. Leon looked toward the road ahead, then back at Lydia.

“When something hidden chooses to be seen,” Lydia said quietly, “have the courage not to look away.”

Leon held her gaze. “I won’t.”

A hint of approval approval touched Lydia’s expression before she stepped away from the road.

Leon returned to his truck, but Lydia’s words followed him.

Leon had learned when to question the impossible and when to accept that the gods had put something directly in his path.

Lydia had just removed any doubt about which this was.

Whatever Thallia had experienced last night, Leon needed to trust what she had seen.

That changed things.

Until now, believing Thallia had been a choice. He had seen her fear and believed she was telling him the truth about what she'd experienced.

Lydia made it something more.

She had known.

Leon sat behind the wheel without starting the truck.

A man was dead. Thallia had felt him die.

And whatever had reached her through sleep had shown her the truth.

He started the truck and pulled back onto the road.

Minutes later, he turned into Crossing River Nursery.

A patrol vehicle and ambulance were already parked near the entrance.

Leon shut off the engine.

For one moment, he remained behind the wheel.

Water.

Dirt.

A shovel.

Golf gloves.

He could still hear Thallia describing them.

Leon opened the door and stepped out. He paused just inside the nursery and took in the scene.

The morning air was still cool, carrying the smell of damp earth and flowering plants. Somewhere deeper inside the nursery, the fountain continued to run, water spilling steadily over stone.

Leon recognized the sound immediately.

Falling water.

There were only four people besides him.

One of his deputies stood near the entrance, keeping anyone from moving farther into the property.

Near him, a delivery driver waited beside a box truck loaded with flats of flowers and young vegetable plants. He'd arrived for the morning delivery after the body was discovered.

A younger man stood several yards away from the fountain. Pale and shaken, he kept looking toward the body before forcing his attention away.

Leon recognized him as Evan Brooks, Jake's assistant. He normally opened the nursery in the mornings. Which meant he was almost certainly the person who'd found Jake.

The only other person was Marc. Dr Marcus Vassos was already crouched beside the body when Leon reached the fountain.

Marc had grown up in Olympia Springs, left long enough to become a doctor, then returned to open the town’s small medical clinic. At forty-two, he was also one of Leon’s closest friends and one of the few people who never seemed particularly impressed by the fact that Leon was sheriff.

He looked different this morning.

Marc’s thick brown hair was already giving way to gray at the temples, and a day’s growth of beard shadowed his face. Usually, quick humor came easily to him. None of it was there now.

Marc looked up as Leon approached. “He’s been dead several hours.”

Leon moved closer without entering the disturbed ground around the body. “Care to guess at the cause?”

Marc glanced toward the wound along Jake’s neck and shoulder. “Blunt force with a sharp edge. That’s my best guess until the medical examiner gets him.”

Leon looked at the shovel. “Could that have done it?”

“Could have,” Marc answered. “I’m not giving you more than that from looking at him.”

Leon nodded. That was Marc. If he knew, he said so. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t pretend. “Who touched the body?”

Marc stood up. “The assistant checked for a pulse before he called nine-one-one. I confirmed death when I arrived. Nobody else.”

Leon’s attention returned to Jake.

He moved closer, careful to stay outside the area already marked around the body.

Jake had fallen partly onto his right side. One arm was trapped beneath him, while the other lay stretched toward the fountain. His phone rested in the dirt beyond his fingertips.

A dark wound crossed the back of his shoulder and climbed toward the side of his neck. Blood had soaked through his shirt and collected beneath him before drying along the edges, crusting the dirt.

For an instant, Leon heard Thallia's voice instead.

My face was against the dirt.

Leon took a breath then let his attention move outward.

Several pots of night-blooming cereus stood near the fountain, their white flowers beginning to close in the morning light. A small gardening cart waited nearby with pruning shears, plant ties, and an open bag of potting mix.

Damp soil covered much of the ground around the display. Shoe prints crossed it in several directions, mixed with spilled potting soil, fallen petals, and leaves knocked loose from the surrounding plants.

The shovel lay several feet from Jake's body.

Leon pointed toward it. “That belong here?”

Marc glanced over. “You’re asking the doctor about gardening equipment?”

Leon gave him a flat look. “Your medical insight continues to be invaluable.”

Marc's expression remained serious despite the words. “Ask Evan.”

Leon crouched where he could examine the body without touching it. “Anything else?”

Marc indicated Jake's hands. “Look at his left hand.”

Dirt was packed beneath Jake's fingernails, and two nails were torn.

“From the fall?” Leon asked.

“Maybe.” Marc rose. “Or he tried to grab something. The medical examiner gets to tell you which.”

Leon's gaze moved back to the ground.

Plants. Flowers. Soil. Tools.

Any one of them could matter. Right now, he didn't know which.

Leon left Marc with the body and walked toward Evan.

Evan Brooks stood beside the loaded nursery cart, both hands wrapped around the handle as though he needed something solid to hold onto.

He was twenty-one, tall and gangly, with reddish hair, brown-green hazel eyes behind wire-framed glasses, and feet that always seemed slightly too large for the rest of him. He'd come home from college only a few days earlier and returned to the same summer job he'd held since high school.

Jake had stopped treating him like temporary help years ago.

Evan's eyes were red now, his face pale beneath a scattering of freckles. He sniffed and wiped beneath his nose with the back of his hand, then seemed embarrassed by it.

Leon stopped a few feet away. “Evan.”

Evan looked at him. “I’ve never seen a dead body before.”

His voice cracked on the last word.

Leon gave him a moment. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Evan swallowed hard and nodded.

Leon pulled out his pocket notepad and flipped to the first page then retrieved the pen from the same pocket. He didn’t actually need to write anything down, but he found it made others more comfortable. “Tell me what happened this morning.”

Evan pulled in a shaky breath. “Same thing I do every morning. I got here a little before six. Opened the front, checked the deliveries with Seth, then we loaded the cart.”

He glanced at the cart. “I was taking those back to the greenhouse. I came around the fountain and almost ran over him.”

A tear escaped before Evan could stop it. He wiped it away quickly. “I thought Jake was working. He did that sometimes. Came in early or stayed late when something needed attention.”

Leon kept his voice quiet. “What did you do when you saw him?”