As always, thanks go out to my readers and those who left reviews on the previous chapter. I hope you are all doing well. Wishing you all the best for 2023!

CHAPTER 27

WHAT LURKS IN THE SHADOWS

It was Wednesday, December 20th, just shy of 6:00 pm. The holidays being just around the corner, many of the houses in Forks had been decorated with Christmas lights. Some had nativity scenes, others had inflatable Santas and snowmen.

As Charlie sat in his cruiser, on a speed trap over by Pine Street, his partner, Sean Reed, reached into a paper bag, and produced a wrapped burger, which they had gotten at The Lodge only a few minutes prior. "No onions. This one's yours."

"Thanks."

"So when is your daughter coming down?"

"She's taking the day off on Friday. She'll be leaving on that morning, should be here by mid-afternoon."

"She wouldn't let you drive her, huh?"

"Nope," Charlie replied, recalling their verbal exchange on the telephone. "When she has an idea in mind, it's usually set in cement."

"Gee, I wonder where she gets that from?" Sean teased in between bites.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha. Very funny."

"Dispatch to Forks Police Department. We just got a call requesting a wellness check at one thirty-six Haven Road. The lady said that her brother hasn't been seen in three days. The doors to his house are locked. His vehicle is in the driveway. Responding unit, please confirm."

Swiftly wrapping his burger once more, Charlie reached for the radio. "Unit one to dispatch, we're on our way."

"Ten four, Chief. Dispatch out."

"One thirty-six Haven Road," Sean began. "Isn't that Waylon's place?"

Charlie frowned. "Yeah."

Waylon Forge was a long-time friend of his. Heck, they had known each other for nearly forty-five years.

A short drive took them to the man's home. When the cruiser pulled into the driveway, his sister—a woman named Terry—was standing by the front door, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Charlie, Officer Reed, thank God it's you," the woman walked up to meet them, a worried look plastered on her face. "I've been knocking and knocking, but he's not coming to the door. His truck is here. He never goes anywhere without it."

Except for the headlights on Terry's car, and the cruiser's red and blue lights, the house was bathed in total darkness. Same for the detached garage.

With his flashlight in hand, Charlie approached the house, knocking as he peered inside the windows.

"I don't see him, and nothing seems disturbed."

"Let's check around the back," Sean said before turning to Terry. "It might be best if you stayed here, ma'am."

Nodding, the woman fished her phone out of her pocket. "I'll call around again. Maybe someone's seen him."

Leaving her to it, Charlie and Sean went around the house, but the backdoor was locked as well, and curtains obstructed the view inside.

"We should have a look around the property," Charlie said as he swept a beam of light over their surroundings. Waylon's old boat was off to one side, wrapped in a tarp. Next to it was a small tool shed. On the right side of the property was Waylon's detached garage. At present the doors were closed, yielding nothing suspicious so far.

Turning their attention to the ground, it wasn't long until Charlie and Sean noticed prints in the snow, a trail that went from the house to the garage and vice versa. There were prints that came from the driveway, too. That in itself wasn't unusual. Waylon liked to tinker with stuff, and could often be found working in the garage on some project or another.

"Over there," Sean indicated as the two neared the garage. "Another set of tracks." This time, the tracks went toward his boat. Waylon had likely wrapped the tarp around it recently, his way of storing the boat for the winter.

Choosing to investigate the garage first, they found it unlocked. It was empty, though.

"Theories?" Sean said at length.

"I'm thinking Waylon came home, but instead of heading inside the house, he walked over to the garage, unlocked the door."

"That would make sense."

But where was he now?

"Let's have a more thorough look outside," Charlie offered before making for the boat.

"Hold up," he said, stopping to indicate a strange pattern in the tracks. "Assuming these prints are Waylon's, he stopped right here." The boot prints were jumbled in a stationary circle, as though the man had spun on the spot to look around him.

"Over there." Now it was Sean who pointed. "Seems he took off that way."

True enough, the prints that shot from the circle betokened a running pattern. Not a jog, but a full run, the trail making directly for the woods.

"Why would he go in there?" Sean wondered out loud. Turning, he guided his flashlight around the yard. "Something clearly spooked him, but what?"

A second or two went by, then Sean spoke again. "What the fuck? Charlie, look."

Following the line of his partner's flashlight, Charlie soon caught sight of something he hadn't expected. Footprints. On the roof of Waylon's garage.

Despite his years of experience and training, Charlie was weirded out by the sight, for these weren't the footprints of people who were clearing snow off the garage. For one, snow still blanketed the roof. And two, the prints were single imprints of feet—no walking patterns, but depressions left by people who had merely stood there, as if they had dropped from the sky then magically disappeared.

With an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Charlie brought a hand to his holster, and started toward the woods with caution, following the running pattern without disturbing the prints.

As the cops stalked into the shadowy woods, Charlie tried to determine how long the tracks had been there. It was hard to say. The erratic pattern was obvious yet somewhat faded by the wind. In at least two places, there were larger depressions in the snow. If these were indeed Waylon's tracks, he seemed to have fallen twice in quick succession, like someone who had been running in absolute terror and panic.

Onward they walked, shining their flashlights on the ground ahead. When they finally stumbled onto the scene, Charlie's stomach turned, his suspicion and fear made real.

They had found Waylon.

"Christ," was all Sean said as the two surveyed the body. For there could be no doubt; Charlie's friend was long dead. While he still wore his pants and boots, his jacket and shirt were missing. Adding to the utter strangeness of the scene, the wounds he had on his neck and wrists looked like animal bites.

What in God's name did this?

"Sean, go with his sister. Make sure she doesn't come out here. I'm gonna call this in."

Carlisle's locker opened with a metallic clang, the sound reverberating in the doctor's locker room. Because he had worked later than the usual shift change, it was now 9:30. After catching his reflection in the small magnetic mirror on the inside of the door, Carlisle noted that he was still smiling. He had saved a life just now, operating on a victim of a snowmobile accident. A father of three.

The next forty-eight hours would be critical of course, but Carlisle was hopeful, and relieved that those children hadn't lost their father today.

Swapping his scrubs for a dress-shirt, sweater, and some slacks, he was reaching for his jacket when a chirp sounded. A glance at his cell phone told him he had just received an email.

If the successful surgery had been the high point of his day, this one nearly topped it. The message was from Edward.

Carlisle clicked on the email and read it at vampire speed, his smile broadening with every word.

Hello, Carlisle,

I hope this finds you well. Alice and I are presently in Europe, in France to be exact. But while it's nice here, it's been a while since either of us have been in the states. We were thinking of making the trip to see you and Rosalie. Alice would like to meet you, and I miss you guys.

Would that be alright with you? If it is, we would probably be there sometime before New Years.

Anyway, looking forward to hearing from you. Let me know what you think.

Edward

Wasting no time, Carlisle typed then sent his reply.

Hello, Edward,

Rosalie and I are doing well. In fact, she'll be ecstatic that you're coming for a visit. I know I am. So, the answer is yes. It's more than alright for you to come over. We miss you, brother, and l look forward to meeting Alice.

Take care and see you soon.

Carlisle

Moments later, when he was finally ready to go, Carlisle left the locker room, and was just passing by the nurse's station when Dr. Coleman said his name.

"Are you heading home?" the senior doctor asked as he rounded the desk.

"Yes, sir." Since Dr. Coleman had worked a day shift today, the fact that he was still here surprised him a little. "Are you pulling a double shift?"

"No. I just had some paperwork to do. I was going to grab my coat and call it a night myself. I just wanted to say, nice work with that surgery just now."

Not one for praise, Carlisle gave a self-effacing smile. "Thank you."

"The raw talent you have… it's hard to believe you're fresh out of residency."

Dr. Coleman was about to say something else when his cell phone sounded. When he glanced down at the screen, a frown creased his brows. "Huh… It's Charlie Swan." With an apologetic look, he was half-turned when he said, "One moment, I'm just gonna take this."

Curious as to why Charlie would be calling Dr. Coleman, Carlisle waited as his colleague took a few steps. "Luke Coleman."

"Luke, Charlie Swan here. Sorry to call you out of the blue like this. Are you still acting as medical examiner for the county?"

"I am."

"Good, because we're gonna need your services shortly. Do you know Waylon Forge?"

"I do."

"We found him in the woods behind his house. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was some sort of animal attack."

Carlisle stiffened. The words 'animal attack' clanged through him like alarm bells. What if those nomads are back? Trying to conceal the fact that he could overhear everything, he flicked an imaginary piece of lint from his jacket, but worriedly hung on to every word.

"An animal attack," Dr. Coleman echoed.

"I suppose we'll know more once you do the examination. Could you meet us at one thirty-six Haven road?"

"Definitely, I'm on my way."

"Is everything alright?" Carlisle asked once Dr. Coleman had severed the call.

"That was the chief. Says they found a body on the other side of town. He thinks some kind of animal did it. If you'll excuse me."

Dr. Coleman was on his way to grab his coat when Carlisle called after him.

"Sir, would it be alright if I came with you?"

Puzzlement crossed the older doctor's features. "You sure? You just worked a long shift."

"I have the day off tomorrow. I don't mind."

A second went by. Dr. Coleman nodded. "Alright, then."

Relieved that he was allowed to go, Carlisle thanked his colleague.

All throughout the drive, he was afraid of what he might find.

Thank you for reading! Reviews are much appreciated.