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I can already tell this is not going to be a good idea. “Fine. Come on.”
We follow Don to the place where all the police on the island are gathered and flashing lights splash against the dark wood of the trees. Dawn has finally crept up over the edge of the woods and offers some light, enough that we can see this is the same place Nova’s car broke down last night. It’s still sitting by the road but now yellow tape circles the area all around it.
I go to shake Don’s hand. “Don, you want to tell me what is going on.”
But Don isn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, he has his eyes firmly on Nova. Again. A barbaric sense of ownership goes through me, and I fight it down. I am not that man. I would never think of a woman as mine, but something about Nova has me no better than a dog in heat, wanting to mark her as my own. I stand back and take a good look at Don. He’s not a bad-looking man…but he’s not the witch she’s looking for.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Where the fuck did that thought come from? I need more sleep. I need…to get this woman off my island.
“Is this your car, ma’am?” What kind of fucked up question is that? It’s not even a good pick-up line.
Nova looks at me with uncertainty in her eyes before answering, “Yes. I…”
Don cuts her off, “So this IS your car?”
What the hell?
“Yes.”
“How did you get to town?”
“I brought her.” Don’s about to piss me off. “I happened upon her last night when she broke down. What’s this all about, Don?”
His eyes finally come back to mine. It’s then that I realize Don’s not looking at Nova in a romantic way. He’s not seeing her the way I am. Instead, he’s…scared.
“There’s been a murder, Nate.”
Chapter Four
____________
Nova
Murder. I should be upset. I realize that. I should be sad someone’s life has been snuffed out and a monster is still free. But I’m a reporter. The word murder isn’t going to hit the same way it does with a normal person.
“Murder…here?” I hear the disbelief in ‘Nate’s’ voice. He didn’t bother telling me he was the island witch and he didn’t tell me most everyone calls him Nate instead of Nathanial either. “Who? Not Jenny.”
Jenny. Who’s Jenny? Is that his girlfriend?
“Don’t tell me Aaron finally lost his temper that badly?”
The Sheriff shakes his head, “No Nate. It’s not Jenny.”
“Who then?”
“If I had to guess, it’s a tourist. But the damnable thing is…” The Sheriff looks over at me again. “When we ran the plates for this car, we thought it belonged to the victim.”
Why is my car so interesting to this guy? Nate said I could leave it and he would take care of it.
“You thought…? Even after you ran my plates. I assume my driver’s license picture popped up since the car is registered to me.” Why would they think…?
“Nate…the girl looks just like your new friend here.”
Both men turn to look at me. The reality of the situation hits me. Someone was murdered where my car broke down…and she looks just like me.
“How, um, did she…?”
“It looks like she was strangled with a silk rope, but we won’t know for sure until we get her bod…get her back to the coroner and he performs an autopsy.”
