“Sure do hope so,” I said. “And I know that was the polite way of telling me you need to get Junie ready for bed, so I’ll let you go.”
“I do, but if anything comes up, or if you start to panic, call me, alright?”
“Will do. Sleep tight.”
I set my phone on the coffee table and turned my attention to the burner. Straight from one phone to the other. I went through the setup process. Made a fake account, with a fake email address, and a fake name. Jane Doe was taken, so I became Jane Dobe.
It looked ridiculous across the screen, but all that mattered was that I had a way to contact this ‘friend’ anonymously.
Once the thing was up and running, I headed to the text messaging app.
Gwen;On the burner now. What did you do with it?
The response came in heartbeats.
Unknown;Burned his personal effects and buried the body.
Gwen; So you have a Ripper attachment on an excavator, a hydraulic hammer, and a Hydra back truck?
Unknown; Guessing you have no idea what any of that is, so I’m assuming you googled what it takes to dig a hole through frozen ground.
I had done exactly that. But what was their point?
Gwen; I’m just having a hard time believing that you went through all that effort for a stranger. But you knew it was me, so we can’t be strangers. You call yourself a friend, and you hide behind an anonymous number.
They read it. They began typing. They stopped. Then they began again. When that went on for a while, I took Simone’s advice. Maybe a drink would ease my racing mind. Just as I was finishing pouring a glass, the burner phone dinged again.
Unknown; You’re right. I didn’t go to all this effort for a stranger. We are friends. But I have shit to lose, too. Sorry I’m not willing to throw my whole life away.
Gwen; Yet you buried a body for me.
Unknown; Yeah, and made sure no one knew it was me.
Gwen; How did YOU even know it was me?
Unknown; Recognized the raincoat and tennis shoes while you were dumping him over the bridge.
So, furthering my theory. It could’ve been someone from the ranch or from town. But it had to be a woman. Men didn’t pay so much attention to shoes and raincoats.
Gay men did, though. More times than I could count, Axel had complimented or condemned an outfit choice of mine. Those very tennis shoes once, in fact. They were Hokas. Themost comfortable shoes I’d ever worn, purchased because long hours at the bakery were killing my feet, but they were bulky and big. Axel had said it looked like I had clown feet.
Could this be Axel?
Gwen; Why would you even be in the woods at that hour?
Unknown; Who said I was in the woods?
Gwen; You weren’t on the bridge and you weren’t on the road. I would’ve seen you. So you had to be in the woods.
Unknown; Fine. I was in the woods.
Gwen; Again, why?
Unknown; It clears my head.
Gwen; So you’re not a hunter, then?
Unknown; I’m not telling you who I am.
