I didn’t go to the grocery store, and I didn’t have any errands to run. I shook my cane out and went back the same way we came, back to the Sheriff’s office. The pavement was icy and treacherous so I walked slowly. When I opened the door to his office, he was about to go home. He was standing by the coat rack.

“Lara,” he said, his voice lacking any warmth at all.

“Hello Sheriff.”

“I was just about to leave for another meeting, but what can I do for you?”

I walked to his desk and sat opposite his empty chair. Sighing audibly, he placed his hat down on the table, and lowered himself into his chair. “Right. Let’s hear it.”

“The person who shot the wolf was Sawyer Bennet,” I said.

The silence that followed was so profound that the expression you could have heard a pin drop became true.

“Sawyer,” he repeated incredulously when he got over his deep shock. “He couldn’t hurt a fly if it was shitting on his nose.”

“He’s not what you think he is,” I insisted.

“Well, what is he?” he taunted.

“He’s hidden. He’s angry, and resentful, and devious. Very devious.”

“On what basis are you making this very serious allegation?”

I swallowed. “Because he told me he was going to show Kit.”

“Show Kit?” he echoed.

“He was going to punish him,” I said impatiently. I knew he was being deliberately obtuse. He was trying to make me feel that I was being stupid or irrational.

“Punish him for what?”

“For being with me.”

“Why should Sawyer Bennet care who you’re with?”

“Because he’s in love with me.”

Sheriff Bradley coughed politely. “Lara, are you aware that Sawyer is about to feature in the Haverbrooke’s family portrait?”

“Yes, but he confessed to me that he’s in love with me, and he’s just marrying her for the money,” I cried. I could see that, just as I had expected, I was getting nowhere. I even sounded completely crazy to my own ears.

The Sheriff cleared his throat. “Look, Lara. I know Sawyer is prettier than a sugar lump, and every unmarried gal this side of the river is secretly sweet on him, but don’t you think you’re carrying this too far.”

“I’m not telling a story,” I almost shouted with frustration.

“I’m not calling you a liar, buttercup, but is it possible that you could have misheard, or … misunderstood?”

“I’m blind, Sheriff Bradley, not stupid.”

“It’s my job to look out for you, but I won’t be able to protect you if you insist on practicing bein’ married to Carson, and go around making all kinds of outlandish accusations. Have you told Carson what you just told me?”

“No.”

“Good. I suggest you don’t. We can’t have everyone taking the law into their own hands. He’s not proper civilized, that Carson. He’s got the makings of a hothead. So you leave it to me. I’ll conduct a proper investigation into the matter.”

“Will you talk to Sawyer?”

“If I find any evidence to implicate him, I’ll do more than talk to him. You can be right sure of that.”

“I want you to tell him that if he doesn’t stop coming around to Old Man’s Creek and causing trouble, I’ll call old man Haverbrooke myself.”

At the mention of the Haverbrooke name the very air in the room changed, became colder than a frog’s behind.

“I wouldn’t advise that course of action, Lara. Mr. Haverbrooke is a very busy man, and he doesn’t take kindly to unfounded, unproven slurs to his family name.”

“Well, I’m not lying,” I cried hotly. “You can believe me or not, but I wanted it noted that I came here and told you that Sawyer Bennet is dangerous and needs to be stopped.”

“My cat is more dangerous than Sawyer. I don’t know where you got the impression that he’s dangerous, or in love with you, but he looks like a very happy soon-to-be-groom to me.”

“I think you’ll find that he owns a crossbow.”

“I think you should stop poking about in other people’s business.” His voice had lost that honeyed cajoling tone and was downright stern.

“I’ll lay money that you’ll find he was there last night. You’ll see his shoe prints and his tire tracks in the snow.”

“It’s possible he was out hunting around Old Man’s Creek, but that’s not exactly a crime,” he said calmly.

“It’s not hunting season,” I retorted angrily.

“It’s getting late. You better run on home, or back to Carson if that’s where you’re heading.”

I stood up, frustrated, furious, and helpless. “You won’t do anything about what I’ve just told you, will you?”

“I will. As soon as I get some evidence,” he said calmly. “I can’t go cautioning people on the say-so of a slip of a girl.”

I nodded. “Fine. I will take care of this myself.”

“Take a bit of fatherly advice from me, young lady. Stay away from Sawyer and his family. Don’t think I won’t put you behind bars just because you’re blind.”

“Thank you for your time, Sheriff. You’ve been most helpful,” I said through clenched teeth, and stormed out of his office.

Outside, it was snowing lightly. Light flakes fell on my face. I turned towards the high street. Jimbo, the guy from whom I bought most of my wood pieces for my art, stopped his pickup to ask if I wanted a lift home.

“Thanks,” I said, and got into his overly hot truck, with its smell of damp dog, and the sound of windshield wipers swishing.

“You look damn near frozen, girl.”

“It’s cold,” I agreed.

“It’s about to turn colder than my mother-in-law’s heart tonight,” he said.

“Jimbo,” I said, “you hunt, don’t ya?”

“Sure do.”

“Do you ever hunt with Sawyer?”

“Keen shot, he is, but I haven’t been out shooting with him ever since he got that corncob stuck up his ass, pardon my French.”

“Does he use a gun, Jimbo?”

“We don’t nobody use guns no more, lass. Crossbows: they’re the business. Fast, quiet, and deadlier than my mother-in-law.”

I bit my lip. “Does everybody use crossbows nowadays then?”

“Well, the smart ones do.”

So the Sheriff was right when he said a lot of hunters had crossbows.

“Do you know what kind of crossbow Sawyer has?”

“He had the same model as me, but I heard he’s upgraded. The lads were saying his sweetheart gave him a real fancy one for his birthday.” He wound down the glass and spat into the street.