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When he started believing the lies in his own head.

The dog barked.

Once.

Sharp.

Then again.

My body went still.

The deputy reached for his radio.

I lifted one hand.

“Wait.”

The dog was facing the east pasture.

Toward the old equipment shed.

Toward the line of trees Gerald had used before.

I stepped off the porch.

Slowly.

The deputy followed.

“Beast?”

“Get Cooper.”

“But—”

“Now.”

He ran.

I moved toward the shed.

Every step I took was careful, not to get too far from the house.

Every sense open.

The wind shifted.

Carried the faint smell of mud.

Wet leaves.

And something else.

Gun oil. I don’t know if that was my imagination or what the hell it was, but I wasn’t ignoring it.

My jaw tightened.

Gerald was close.