"Alright, then. Wanna tell me what made you check here of all places?"
Jackson looks to me pointedly, wanting me to take this one. We discussed this, and unfortunately, we can't hide the truth. Just parts of it.
"We were here last night. I brought the music; Toby brought the booze."
"You were here?" Dad asks, raising a thick eyebrow before turning to check up on his crime scene. Or maybe he's making sure no one is listening to our conversation.
"Yeah." I say calmly. "We were here last night, drinking. Toby left when we did."
"Then what brought him back out here?" Dad asks shrewdly. "His car's here, so he came back willingly."
"Maybe looking for his phone." I shrug. "I don't know, but I'm guessing he lost it last night and didn't notice. Probably came back here to try and find it this morning and..."
"An autopsy will give us a time of death." Dad says, rubbing his jaw like that will help ease some of the tension. "Fucking hell. How am I gonna tell Emma her son's dead when I don't have any answers about what happened."
Toby's mom, Emma, went to school with my parents. They were close, by all accounts. And though I don't think they talk much these days, I can tell he's not liking the idea of having to break the news to one of his friends.
I know the question wasn't for me, so I don't even try to answer. I just wait, watching the photographer flip through her camera roll to make sure she's got all the evidence. And just in time, too, because the rumbling comes half a moment before I smell the exhaust.
"Fuck me." Jackson groans at the sight of his father's truck plowing our way, mowing through the corn field as it bounces back and forth on the uneven ground.
"Of course." Dad rolls his eyes, but he's got a grin ready by the time Will Devoreaux steps out of his truck... practically right into the middle of the crime scene.
"Will." Dad greets him. "You got here quick."
"No thanks to myson." Will snaps, glaring at Jackson accusingly. "What's going on? I heard there was a girl missing, now I'm seeing something about a dead young man?"
"Toby Connors, if we can trust the wallet in his pocket." Dad nods.
"His wallet? You mean you didn't recognize him?"
"Nope." Dad sighs. "And you wouldn'ta either. His face was all clawed up. Looks like the crows got him... except he didn't tie himself up there himself."
Will's eyes follow the direction dad indicates, and his face goes slack with shock when he sees the stake.
"He was tied up there?"
"Sure was." Dad nods. "Not too well, mind you. Fell down on Easton here when he went to check his necklace he recognized."
"That so?" Will turns his eyes on me, looking surprisingly addled.
"Yeah." I swallow the bile that creeps up my throat at the thought of his face shredded into ribbons beneath that hood.
"Well, lucky you boys came out here before everyone started setting up for the festival tonight." His eyes swivel to my father. "This mess will all be gone before they start setting up, right? I don't wanna scare anyone."
Dad hesitates, turning to take in the scene. Toby's body is in the back of the coroner's van, but otherwise, there isn't much out here.
"I don't see why not. I'll just get Jed out here to comb the field and then I can clear it for tonight."
"Jed?" I ask, glancing at Jackson.
"Mm." Dad nods. "If I missed anything, you know he'll find it."
The old hound is half blind, but the blue tick in him is still ticking. He can sniff out a groundhog in the barn amidst all the cow shit. I don't doubt if he were here now, he'd be alerting to the fact that Toby's phone is in Jackson's pocket.
"We'd best go get ready for the game." Jackson says; I presume he's realized the same thing I have.
"Stop and see Miss Rosie, fill up your stomachs." Will says, chuckling as he claps us each on the back with a separate hand.
