Page 37 of Buried in the Woods Below

I decide to charge head-on and pop my head out the door. Thankfully, it’s Eric. As he strides down the hall, you can tell Heathcliff’s death has taken a toll. Red runs through his normally bright and hopeful eyes. His bouncy gait is now slow and somber.

I breathe a sigh of relief and flash him my best smile. “I was just looking for you.”

His eyebrows pinch, and he raises his chin in the air. “In my office?”

I flip strands of hair out of my eyes to keep things light. “Well, to be honest, I looked in your office to see if you were here, but then got a little distracted by the…interesting decorations.”

A faint smile tugs at one corner of his mouth as he exhales a quiet breath through his nose. Half a laugh, half a sigh.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “How’s everybody doing?”

“We’re fine. The girls took it much better than I expected. Kids are so resilient. Laelynn’s probably taking it harder than anybody. She and Heathcliff were inseparable. And you saw him. He was the happiest, nicest dog.”

I search his eyes. It’s hard to believe this is the same man snatching up Big Island real estate. “What did the vet say?”

“She couldn’t say for sure, but she’s guessing it’s something he ate. She took him back to her office, and she’s going to do an autopsy to see what she finds. I’m guessing the big guy just got into something in the woods that he wasn’t supposed to. A poisonous berry or something.”

I scrutinize Eric’s face in disbelief at his naivete. Someone leaves a threatening note on your door, and the next day your dog is dead, and you don’t even consider they might be connected? But I decide to let it lie. He’s probably not thinking clearly.

“Well, I’m just so sorry. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I appreciate that, Charlotte. I really do.” He breezes past me into his office and absorbs the doll collection, chest puffing out in pride. “Enough sad talk. What do you think of this collection? It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

“Mmm…hmm.”

“My great-grandmother handed down most of the dolls to me. She lived here when the amusement park was still in operation. I never knew what to do with them. Then I went for a walk one day and found this doll under the carousel.” He pulls one from the shelf and strokes her hair. “The metal had protected it from the elements. Then it hit me that this would be a pretty good theme for my office, so I unboxed my great-grandma’s dolls, put ’em on the shelf, and started collecting these and other amusement park memorabilia from the era.”

“You found all this here?”

“No, most of it I bought online. I’ve been down some pretty dark eBay rabbit holes.” He gives a wistful grin. “But every now and again, I’ll find something unique on my hikes.”

“Well, it’s not in the least bit hair-raising.”

Eric laughs, dimples popping. “Yeah, I suppose it is a bit spooky. I don’t know; I just find that era enchanting. Part of me wishes I had been born then, ya know? The crisp suits, the fedoras, champagne out of a coupe. Pretty damn glamorous. It’s a bad habit of mine. I’m always wishing I could turn back the clock. These help me capture a piece of the past.” His voice quakes, and he swallows hard.

“Sorry, I was just giving you shit.”

“No, I get it. It’s corny. But that’s partly why I wanted you to visit. It allows me to turn back the clock in my own little way.” He clears his throat and places the doll back on the shelf. “So, why were you looking for me?”

“I went for a hike, and I ran into Russ Neuman.”

Eric blinks slowly and runs his hand through his hair. “Oh. I’m sorry. Hopefully, he didn’t bother you.”

“Not really. Although I’d prefer not to be alone in the woods with him ever again.”

“Neither would I.”

We both laugh, followed by an awkward silence.

“Anyway, it’s probably nothing, but he said something to me, and I thought you should know.”

He scratches the scar on his chin. “Really? What did he say?”

“Well, first he said there are ghosts on the island and recited an extremely unsettling poem.” I keep my voice light, but the words echo in my mind. Shadows on the wall. Noises down the hall.

“That sounds like Russ,” Eric says, unfazed.

“But then, as I was walking away, he said, ‘You shouldn’t have come here.’”