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their heads. He was right; it was the only logical explanation.

“Time of death?” Warren asked.

“She was found around five AM this morning by a woman who lives here.”

“She around?” It was clear Warren wanted to interview her.

“Nah,” the sheriff said. “We put them up in a hotel for the time being. We already interviewed her anyway. She didn’t hear anything except a knock on the door.”

Warren looked back down at the body, his eyes studying every inch, carefully making sure he hadn’t missed any important details. He put on a set of gloves, inched closer to her face, and pushed away some strands of hair. Tara moved closer, and she could see the bluish color of the woman’s cheek.

“Looks like she fell, most likely when he shot her,” Warren said as he got back up onto his feet. “No fingerprints?” he asked.

The sheriff shook his head. “Only hers on some trees over there.” He nodded back in the direction of the forest. “Whoever it was covered their tracks well.”

Tara stood up and her eyes moved to the trees. They were about three miles north of the town of Hanover, where blood was found on the trail, believed to be from the couple. If they all passed through Hanover, that would be the best place to start, but she already knew it was unlikely since the woman in front of them was hiking from Maine.

“No way she hiked into Hanover, right?” Tara asked.

The sheriff shook his head. “She was heading that way, but never made it.”

Tara nodded with disappointment. “Anyone spot the couple in town?”

“Yes,” he began. “A man who owns a hiking store in town…couldn’t get any leads out of him though…don’t think he knows anything.”

A silence fell around them before Warren asked, “Well, didn’t you have something else to show us?”

The sheriff’s face morphed into the tight expression he had when they first arrived. He motioned for them to follow him as he moved down the stairs.

Tara followed behind him and Warren. She knew that whatever it was, it was something the sheriff believed they needed to see for themselves. They followed him across the lawn, parallel to the trail of blood, until they stood at the edge of the woods.

Tara’s eyes fell on the dark forest and she felt a coolness sweep against her as the scent of pine needles flooded her nostrils. She could see where the brush was forcefully pushed apart. Pine needles and broken branches littered the ground, and she felt a shiver up her spine knowing that it was where the victim pushed her way through, where she most likely had a moment of hope as she reached the lawn and saw the house.

Sheriff Russo walked through the brush and they followed behind, the forest becoming all that surrounded them. Tara could almost hear it—the woman’s frantic footsteps crunching the leaves beneath them, her panicked breathing. It always seemed strange to her how thin the line between life and death was, that a woman stood where she was hours earlier, and now lay lifeless. Tara felt sick to her stomach at the thought as she continued to move around the trees, following the splatters of blood on the ground.

They moved swiftly and silently until suddenly, something caught Tara’s eye. It was a sliver of reflected light and what the sheriff was bringing them toward. As they got closer, she could see it clearly. It hung on a tree branch in the distance, glistening under the fragments of sunlight breaking through the trees.

They moved closer until she stood right in front of it. It was a bronze pocket compass, hanging open, with a silver needle that pointed south instead of north. She took a step back from the tree. Underneath the tree branch, etched on the trunk, was the image of a sun. It sat behind a series of peaked mountains, as if to show a sun that was setting or rising, and as her eyes moved further down the base of the tree, she saw words, They Never Leave, and she immediately felt goosebumps form on the back of her neck.

“What do you think it means?” she asked as she looked up to see Warren’s face in disbelief.

“We found it here this morning. We have no clue,” the sheriff said.

Warren reached into his pocket, grabbing a set of gloves and putting them on, before grabbing hold of the compass. He moved it slightly in each direction, but at each jostle, the needle continued to point south.

“It’s stuck,” Warren finally said before staring at it and moving it in his hand for a moment longer.

Tara continued to stare at the tree. It had to mean something, but what?

“Do you think it’s pointing to the other crime scene?” she asked.

It was pointing south, after all, the same direction the supposed blood of the couple was found.

A silence fell around them for a moment until Warren opened his mouth. “Possibly,” he said. “Have you found any more of these?” He turned toward the sheriff.

“No,” the sheriff stated. “This was it…the other crime scene had nothing.”

They continued to stand in silence as Warren turned the compass in his hand once more. Tara knew they all had the same question. Why take the other bodies and leave nothing, but then the opposite here? Maybe he didn’t want her to get away, Tara thought. Her mind raced as it all came together in her thoughts. What if he only left something because she got away? Maybe it became a game to him, once he knew they would be on his tail. Maybe he was taunting them.

“Did you check the other crime scene after you found this body?” Tara asked.

The sheriff stared at her with confusion. “Uh…no…there was no reason to. We already turned the scene upside down.”

She suddenly felt all eyes on her, as he and Warren waited for her to elaborate. She stared at the compass in Warren’s hand, questioning whether to trust her instincts, but the feeling was

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