Chapter Three:

Danny felt like hurling as she sat next to Morton in the hotel room where the police found Glenn's body. She couldn't stand being there. Especially when she could clearly see the drops of blood the weapon had left behind.

"We are still looking for the murder weapon," the sheriff said. "The wounds on the body suggest some sort of thick, quarter inch knife. But we've yet to find one that fits that description even in the general store."

Morton glanced at Danny and saw how pale she was. "Sheriff, I wonder if would be all right if she left the room for a few minutes while I talk to you."

"Oh, right. Sure."

Danny stood and left quickly. Once in the fresh air of the parking lot, she sat on the curb and tried not to puke. Her head was reeling and she desperately needed to take a nap to stop her headache. She took two Advil as a woman walked up to her.

The woman had long, fiery red hair that flowed freely down her back. Her brilliantly green eyes were bright with a cryptic laughter. She wore a long, fitted black dress, with long and fitted sleeves ending with black gloves despite the warmth of the weather. Her dress had a high collar that concealed her throat and neck. Around her neck was a strange amulet with runic markings carved on it. She stopped in front of Danny and asked with a thick Irish accent, "What's the matter, lassie? You look as though someone walked right over your grave and dug in their heel as they paced your stomach."

Danny took a deep, struggling breath, and said, "That's one way to put it. Someone murdered my fiancé last night." She found it increasingly difficult to breathe now that this woman was present.

"Aye, I heard about that. I'm sorry about your loss," the Irish woman said, though her honesty didn't reach her eyes. "What's your name, lass?"

"Danny Tomlin," Danny answered. "Yours?"

"Ciara. Ciara Wirewood," the woman said, smiling mysteriously, making Danny's blood chill

In the hotel room, Morton and the sheriff were discussing the murder:

"Reiny, there's some suspicion that you may be behind the murder," the sheriff said, looking at Mort seriously. "People know you don't like Glenn—"

"Didn't. He's dead, use past tense," Morton interrupted.

"Didn't like Glenn. And they know how you feel about Danny. Like the other four murders, all we need is undeniable evidence you did it," the sheriff said, noticing Morton was looking around the room with great distaste.

Mort looked at the sheriff in front of the open window. "What if you can't prove it was me who killed him? What if it was Danny? Or someone else? And I still have no idea what you're talking about. What other four murders?" he said, shifting his gaze slightly.

The sheriff sighed, "Amy, Ted—Where are you going?"

Morton was no longer listening to him, but was leaving the hotel room, his eyes clamped on Danny and Ciara talking outside. He approached them and asked, "Ciara, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see what the trouble was, Mort," she said, pleasantly. "And I'm glad I came, I got to finally meet Danny. Now I see why you care so much about her."

He took Ciara's arm and led her a little ways away from Danny so she couldn't hear what they were saying. "What do you want with her?" he asked the devil, seriously worried about his best friend.

"Nothing whatsoever," the devil answered, lightly taking his hand off her. "Unless you want me to have something for her to do. Do you?"

"No. Leave her alone."

Ciara smiled. "Fine. We'll just be friends, then." She laughed. "Think of it! A good little girl like Danny being friends with the devil? That'll go over well up There," she said, pointing skyward. "What do you think He'll say about it?"

She walked back to Danny, leaving Mort where he was, and said, "Well, I must be off. Danny, I hope we get to know each other very well. Morton ha my number." Still smiling creepily, she left.

Danny stood and walked over to Morton. "Who was that? She a friend of yours?"

"Yes... Let's go home, you look tired," he said.

~*~

At Glenn's funeral, Danny stood before the small congregation and, crying, sang:

I've heard it said That people come into our lives For a reason. Bringing something we must learn, And we are lent to use, To help us most to grow If we let them. If we help them in return... Well, I don't know if I believe that's true, But I know I'm who I am today, Because I knew you. Like a comet pulled from orbit As it passes the sun, Like a stream that meets a boulder Halfway through the wood... Who can say if I've been changed for the better? Because I knew you, I have been changed for good... It well may be, That we will never meet again In this lifetime. So let me say before we part, So much of me Is made from what I learned from you, You'll be with me Like a handprint on my heart... And now whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine By being my friend... Like a ship blown from its mooring By a wind off the sea, Like a seed dropped by a sky bird In a distant world... Who can say if I've been changed for the better? Because I knew you, Because I knew you, I have been changed for good... And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness For the things I've done you blame me for... But then, I guess, we know that there's blame to share. And none of it seems to matter anymore! Like a comet pulled from orbit As it passes the sun, Like a stream that meets a boulder Halfway through the wood, Who can say if I've been changed for the better? I do believe I have been changed for the better. Because I knew you, Because I knew you, Because I knew you, I have been changed For good... After the funeral, she stood, silent, by the grave and read what was written on the headstone:

"Glenn Wood Move on, be brave Don't weep at my grave Because I am no longer here But please never let Your memory of me disappear."

She smiled sadly as Morton walked over to her. They stood fro several minutes at the grave without saying a word. Danny ran her fingers across the top of the stone and said, "He kept saying, 'write this on my grave if I go before you do, Danny. Write this...' I kept reminding him to not think of such things... But look what good it did him. He did go before I did and I did write on his stone... I feel horrible. Like it's my fault he was murdered..." She broke down in fresh tears.

Morton pulled her into a hug and said, "C'mon, Danny, it's not your fault. How could it be your fault? There, there. Stop crying. It's not your fault..." He looked across the cemetery and saw Ciara standing by another grave, looking grimly happy. Her eyes were sparkling eerily. Morton didn't know why she was there, but he wanted her to leave. Unfortunately, he didn't have the power or position to make her do that.

Danny sniffed and wiped her tears, saying, "You're right... You're—you're right, Morton..." She kissed him on the cheek and started walking away.

"Wait—where're you going?" he called after her.

"Home. See you later."

Ciara walked over to Morton and said, "Sad day, inn't it?"

"Go to hell, Ciara."

"Oh, I've been there, thank you. I find it a rather pleasant place to live," she said icily.

Morton's scream could be heard across the cemetery, but Danny was already in her car and didn't hear it...