Hallow's Creek Road

Hallow’s Creek Road

By: Santina D’Angelo-Loppie

“People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.”

- James O’Barr

Chapter 1

As I abruptly woke, springing up from a solid slumber to a pitch black bedroom, I rubbed my eyes a little, focusing on the bright red digital numbers being displayed on my bedside radio alarm clock, which read 3:33am. I wasn’t sure exactly what woke me, but I figured it to be one of my two dogs in the hallway or living room, probably chewing a bone. I lay back down, adjusting my pillow to meet the curvature of my neck and pulled the blankets up towards my chin. It was a chilly winter, by Halloween I had already turned my heat on for the season. Just as I started to drift back to sleep, my breathing calmed, my mind finally blank, my body feeling relaxed and warm ... BANG!

I gasped, rapidly taking in the air with one big gulp, as my upper torso flung upward in attention. I glared through the darkness of the room towards my blinds-covered window, knowing that enormous bang had come from behind it. I’m now frantically rationalizing this sound as I reach for my cell phone that’s charging on my bedside table. I sat up towards the headboard of my bed clutching my phone for a few moments, holding on to the anxiety of the possibility that I’ll hear it again. Again, I began to rationalize my fearful thoughts;

If it was an intruder, the dogs would be barking ... right?

It’s a week day, too cold and late for teenagers to be messing around throwing snowballs... right? It’s not bear season... is it?

All of a sudden I came to my senses that it’s a cold and windy November, it was obviously a branch that got picked up in the wind and smacked against the window!

I recaptured the sound in my mind and thought how it had too much base to be ‘just a branch’ But right now it was the only safe explanation, so that’s what I determined it to be.

I cautiously lay back down again, adjusting my pillow and bringing the comfort of my warm duvet up to my chin, but I found myself too nervous to close my eyes, just yet. My mind was still racing at all the possibilities of what that bang could’ve been. I quickly swept them out of my mind and focused on the rational thought of it being a branch. I told myself if I hear another bang I will use my cell phone and call my husband.

My husband was working a vigorous schedule of three weeks on, and one week off, near the border of Iqaluit and Manitoba on the Hudson Bay.

He only being home one week a month certainly forced me to get use to living alone, it was hard in the beginning, but after a few months I was getting quite use to it. He being a trade worker certainly had its pros and cons, time away from home was a con, but the money was certainly a pro. And this had allowed for me to reduce my at-home work schedule as a massage therapist.

We moved into our house on Hallow Creek road just six months previous from a small duplex. Our five bedrooms, three bathrooms, four acre lot – with swimming pool, had seemed like a dream come true. I always told Jeff I wanted to live somewhere without neighbours. I enjoyed privacy and hated living in a duplex.

9 Hallow Creek was situated on a dirt road leading back to ATV trails and a lake. There were only a handful of houses on the dirt road, and each had wooded areas between them that were impossible to see during the lush summer season.

Our most immediate neighbour was an older gentleman named Mr. Owen; you could see the highest tip of his home ascending up the long hill, peaking over the desolate tree branches in the winter season. He spent his days working the tractors and clearing land on his 20 acre yard and tuning up one of his many classic cars he owned.

Our other neighbour was an older couple named Burt and Kim, they were both retired, Burt was a local man and Kim was from Vietnam. They seemed to spend most of their days drinking beer and arguing.

When Jeff and I had first moved in, I drove to each neighbour’s house and introduced myself with a basket of home baked muffins and a smile.

Burt and Kim invited me in for a beer, which I declined. And Mr. Owen, being the seemingly awkward man that he is, simply said “Thank you” and closed his door. I thought he was strange and I told Jeff this. Jeff said “I’m sure when you’re seventy-eight years old that you’ll be strange too, babe”. I chuckled and agreed.

So there I lay, at now 3:45 am, wide awake and still praying that it was a branch that hit my window, still resisting the urge to call Jeff and make myself sound like a scared five year old. Besides, it’s hard enough on him being away, I didn’t want to make it worse.

I must have finally drifted off because next I woke to my usual 7:30am alarm clock radio going off to today’s weather. “Another blustery Nor’eastern storm headed our way this afternoon”.

My dogs greeted me in my kitchen and danced around my feet as I filled my Kurig with water and decided what coffee flavour pod to drink today. Jeff made his usual morning phone call home to check in and say “I love and miss you”. I enjoyed his constant phone calls home which made it feel as though he was still around during the three weeks a month he was gone. So I appreciated his constant brief phone calls.

I didn’t bother telling him about the branch hitting the window last night. Recounting it now, it seemed foolish that I was so afraid anyways, and not worth mentioning.

We quickly chatted before he started work about how cold the weather is up north in comparison to Nova Scotia.

Jeff said “I hear you’re getting hit with a winter storm. Make sure you go to town and pick up extra supplies like salt for the steps, candles in case the power goes out, and snacks that don’t require cooking.”

That was Jeff, mister rational and always taking on the roll of care-taker, in charge of every situation.

We quickly chatted some more about some Christmas party plans and who we should invite, while I started slipping on my coat, winter boots, hat, and clipping the dogs on their leashes for their morning walk. They’re always so anxious and excited for their first walk of the day and practically drag me down our steps to the front yard.

While listening to Jeff continue to ramble on about some work-site gossip I spotted something laying in our yard beside the front of our house. As I got closer, I could see it was a small black animal with red blood staining the snow around it. By now I’m walking as fast as I can towards it that my dogs can hardly keep up with my pace.

I said “Jeff I have to let you go, I’ll talk to you on your lunch break, I love you.”

It was a dead crow with its neck broken, lying on the ground, underneath my bedroom window.

Chapter 2

I was a little shaken by the concept of a crow flying into my window in the middle of the night and I thought how unfortunate it must have been for that poor animal to have died such a tragic death. I didn’t know much about crows, except for the fact that we had a lot of them here in the country.

I thought maybe it got too windy and it lost its way, causing it to smack into my window. I just hoped it hadn’t suffered too much before it laid there and died.

Naturally, being an animal lover, I went to the shed and got Jeff’s metal shovel to bury it in the ground. The ground was frozen stiff and I couldn’t even crack the surface.

I didn’t want to discard it in the woods for fear my dogs would play a morbid game of fetch with it, so I put it in the compost bin out back.

My home had a different feeling to it today, I’m not sure if it was the weather, the dullness of the haunting grey sky, or lack of a good night sleep, but I felt really edgy, as if the hairs on the back of my neck were constantly standing up or like I was being watched. I tried not to freak myself out and kept saying this was an isolated incident and to just “get over it”.

I thought I’d focus on something positive and decided to unpack all of the Christmas decorations from the basement and start decorating. That would be sure to put a smile on my face.

With Jeff being away I wasn’t sure how I’d get a real Christmas tree this year and being new to the area I wasn’t even sure where there was a tree lot. I decided I should ask one of the neighbours, so I drove over to Burt and Kim’s but nobody was home, I could see that their car wasn’t in the driveway and there was fresh tire tracks leading to the street.

With some hesitation I decided to drive up to Mr. Owens to get some advice on finding a tree.

Knock, knock, knock as I tapped on his door. His lights didn’t appear to be on through the window, however it was the middle of the day and his truck was in the driveway.

I took my glove off this time while knocking, maybe he didn’t hear me, I thought, as I leaned to the right and peered through his window.

“CAN I HELP YOU?” a short tempered voice snarled from behind me, which caused me to almost jump out of my skin.

I quickly collected myself and said “Hey Mr. Owen, I’m sorry to be bothering you, but I was wondering where people in the area go to buy their Christmas tree?”

Mr. Owen laughed in a creepy and condescending tone “Look around you, where do you think we go?”

I was silent for a moment and thought to myself I’m a 35 year old woman with microbladed brows and manicured nails, does he really think I own a tree cutting axe?

“My husband works away and I’m left to fend for myself for a tree this year, so I’d much prefer a tree lot to purchase one” quickly recapping my words in my head, now this creepy old man knows I basically live alone ... shit!

After a moment of awkward silence, taking a swig of his flask and returning it to the inside pocket of his red and black lumberjack style coat “Ah Ha, say no more, I’d be happy to rise to the occasion, follow me”.

I followed Mr. Owen around the back of his house and across a very long yard towards a shed. I said “Wow, you can really see the whole street from up here.”

He opened the door to his shed and it was loaded with sharp tools and objects. Axes, machetes, hunting knives... I grew a little weary; nobody knew where I was or that I came here. I wondered why he had all these weapons for. Is this regular forest type equipment? I think Mr. Owen noticed my hesitation as I took a few steps backwards away from the shed. He grinned at me with a crooked face and said “Follow me” as he grabbed a huge shiny axe and ring of rope making his way off towards the edge of the woods. I was feeling overwhelmed at the situation, but I thought the last thing I should do, hypothetically saying he’s an axe murderer, is make him feel like I think he’s an axe murderer. So I followed behind him towards the edge of the woods mentally noting the landscape and scanning the fastest escape route, shall I need to execute it.

I reached for my phone in my pocket and realized I left it at home. Double shit!

The short walk to the woods-edge was silent; he finally said “See one you like? You’ve got tall ceilings, so that gives you lots of opportunity to pick a tree”. I quickly wondered how he knew how tall my ceilings were, but again, I didn’t want to make for an awkward situation on account of my mouth.

I scanned the edge of the woods and blurted out “This one will do, it’s the perfect one, sold!” I nervously sent a chuckle in his direction. He had a grin and started chopping it down. It made me uncomfortable that he was making direct eye contact as he continued to hack it down, chip by chip, so I tried to make myself busy by clicking my boots together, shaking the snow off, straightening my hat, scarf, and mittens; carefully not making eye contact.

He tied the tree up with the rope and began dragging it out of the woods.

I grabbed on to the back end of the tree’s rope and helped.

“Look at that, not just a pretty face” he said.

As we approached my vehicle he securely strapped it to my roof. He asked “Will you need help getting it in your house?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine, thank you. You’ve done enough, are you sure I can’t pay you? I really appreciate your assistance today” I replied.

“If I need a favour returned, I’ll let yah know” said Mr. Owen.

I smiled and waved as I drove out of his driveway, feeling like I narrowly escaped an axe murder. He just stood there watching me leave. I’m not sure what it was about him, he sure seemed strange.

Jeff’s advice rang through my head saying “When you’re seventy-eight years old I’m sure you’ll be strange too, babe”.

I was just happy to be pulling into my drive way, home, and being greeted by my two fur-babies who were anxious to see me and wondered why I was bringing the outdoors inside.

The dogs were busy sniffing the tree I had dragged into my living room when my phone rang, I hop, skipped, and jumped over the tree and boxes of decorations I had out in preparation and answered. It was Jeff, he asked why I hadn’t been answering my phone and I explained the whole strange Christmas tree and Mr. Owen story to him. He laughed. I also laughed, to fit in, not because I thought any of it was funny.

I got my tree up and decorated, along with some other Christmas odds-and-ands around the house. I hung the wreath on the front door, double checking that the door was locked when I closed it. I also thought it would be a good time to make sure all the windows, side door, and back door were locked. I was more than excited to turn in early and get a good night’s rest. It had been a nerve wracking night and an interesting day.

Chapter 3

I was abruptly awoken, again, I cleared my eyes to focus on the alarm clock and it read 3:33am ... this again? I thought. The house was quiet; you could almost hear the hum of silence, so I wondered why I was awake? What could’ve possibly woken me from such a deep sleep?

...BANG!

This time it startled me so much that I jumped. I couldn’t believe this was happening again, I wondered what is wrong with the birds around here.

I mean... I think it’s a bird again.

I could go with the ‘branch’ story again? But I’d know that’s bullshit. It has to be another bird. Feeling frustrated and a little less frightened this time I laid back down, brought my blanket up to my chin, and closed my eyes.

... BANG!

Now I was paralyzed with fear, eyes wide open peering into the darkness of my ceiling. I wanted to reach for my phone, but I was too scared to budge. Beads of sweat started running from my temples and paralyzing fear swept over my entire body from head to toe.

I began thinking; should I call the police? What would I say? That I’d like to report a dead bird? They would refer me to animal control!

I’m calling Jeff; he will know what to do. So with one burst of nerve I grabbed my phone, ripping it out from the charger and dialled Jeff.

“Hello? It’s almost 4am your time, what’s going on?” he answered.

“Jeff, I didn’t tell you this but there was a bang, and a dead bird, and I tried to bury it, and it’s in the compost, and there more banging now” I rambled-on frantically.

“Whoa, slow down! And take a deep breath” he replied.

He talked to me until almost 5am;

“The chances of another bird hitting the window, for a second night in a row, are one in a million”.

“It was likely just branches this time” he said.

“Listen if working away is too much on you, I’ll be happy to come home and take a local job”.

Jeff worked hard to get this position and I certainly didn’t want to ruin that for him. So I told him not to worry, I’ll be fine, I was just a little rattled. New houses can do that. Besides he flies in next week and everything will be fine.

7:30am my alarm went off as usual with the radio’s weather reporting “We had a whopping 26cm of snow last night, nor’easterns are sure to never disappoint the snow enthusiasts”.

While I loaded my Kurig, admiring my glowing tree in the living room and chatted with Jeff, again, the dogs were anxious to go outside, as usual. I slipped on my winter coat and boots and made my way outside through the snow that was past my knees. The dogs loved the snow and while they were prancing through the front yard, the snow was reflecting off their noses like diamonds.

I took a quick glance towards the front of my house, where my bedroom window is, and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No birds and no branches. This gave me a feeling of relief, this time it really was branches blowing from the storm! Jeff was right. I smiled and called Jeff to report back the great news. He gloated about being right about the branches, of course, as I enjoyed my cup of hazelnut pecan coffee – my flavour du jour. He reminded me not to work too hard shovelling and to lift with my knees and take lots of breaks. “Yes, Dad” I jokingly replied.

“The countdown is on now, six days until fly-day home for a week” he said.

“And less than two weeks ‘til our Christmas party!” I interrupted, remembering I still hadn’t dropped off invitations to our neighbours.

After my cup of coffee I went outside to start shovelling my front steps. I thought about how doing yard maintenance certainly was a ‘con’ to having my husband work away, while I clenched my jaw and lifted with my knees. I took a short break for a moment and noticed the dogs digging across the yard, near beneath my bedroom window. I made my way over to see what had them so intrigued...

There laid not one, but two, dead crows. Both had their necks broken and blood stained the snow underneath the layer of freshly fallen flakes. I instantly felt sick to my stomach. A tear drop fell down my cheek and I felt like I was being watched - all over again. I rushed my way into the house, collecting the dogs quickly, and locked the door.

Chapter 4

I sat at my kitchen table filling out party invitations. I had the eerie feeling like I was living in a fishbowl. I’m not sure why I felt like I was being watched; I wondered why those poor birds kept dying. Perhaps I should Google “Crow`s flight paths in Nova Scotia” and try to figure out why my bedroom window was on their death journey at 3:33am every morning.

It was frigid and -20 degrees Celsius, I decided to clip my dogs to their leashes in the backyard where we had two lanyards running on our clothes line, that way the dogs could have the run of the backyard without straying too far into the edge of the woods. After a few minutes I returned to the back door to let the dogs in, I wouldn`t keep them outside for more than a few minutes in this weather. I yelled for them ``Here Princess, here Spotty`` followed with a quick whistle. Eagerly Princess returned to the back door, she was a lazy, eleven year old, eighty pound Pitbull and didn`t enjoy any weather that got her paws wet. Spotty a two year old, thirteen pound, Jackchi and had more energy than anyone could keep up with. I called Spotty again, clapping my hands this time. I decided to step out on the deck and begin wheeling the clothes line in, in hopes that would force him to understand that backyard play time was over. As I reeled the clothesline in, I could see his lanyard lying slack as it drug through the snow. Now wheeling the line in faster, I grew worried. When it arrived back in reach of my hands it was empty. There was no Spotty clipped to the end of it! I examined the end of the lanyard and couldn`t understand how he had gotten off a metal clip? I scanned the back yard calling, whistling, and clapping as loud as I could. My voice grew a little more aggressive “Spotty, come! Spotty, come!” I looked at Princess as she laid on her dog bed in the living room and asked “Where did he go?” she raised one eyelid long enough to stop snoring momentarily and then continued her slumber.

I’m not sure why I was even asking her, I mean it’s not like she was going to answer me. I was more so just thinking out-loud.

I opened my front door hoping I’d see him standing there – but he wasn’t. I scanned the entire yard with no sign of Spotty.

I didn’t want to call Jeff. I didn’t want to unnecessarily worry him. Besides, I’m sure Spotty will be back any minute. I left the front and back door opened just a small crack, enough that I’d be able to hear the tags of his collar jingle if he was close.

Twenty minutes passed, thirty minutes passed, forty-five minutes passed while I continued back and forth between doors continuously calling Spotty’s name.

I started to fear the worst, thinking that he got free from his lanyard and is lost in the woods.

Fear and sadness pierced across my chest as I thought of his little thirteen pound body shaking cold in the woods. I took a deep breath and choked back the tears, still not wanting to call Jeff. I knew he’d be on the next flight home with news like this.

I decided to call my Mother. She lived three hours away and was full of advice, needed, wanted – or not.

We briefly chatted for a few moments about my upcoming party, but she could tell something was wrong. I let her know that Spotty got off his leash and he’s been missing for almost an hour. She reminded me that dogs are smart, especially him. And he has a very warm coat on that she purchased him during her last visit. She said “He’s probably having the time of his life exploring the new back yard.”

“He’s tagged and has his winter coat on. That sneaky little bugger will be back, just give him some time, don’t panic” she said.

Hearing this made me feel better as I pictured him chasing a squirrel up a pine tree with snow glistening on his nose.

Two and a half hours passed and still no Spotty. I weighed my options of going to look for him in the woods, but I figured that probably wasn’t too smart, as it was starting to get dark.

I decided I’d deliver the neighbours my party invitations and I could alert them to my missing dog. This gives me an opportunity to have a look for any fresh tracks he may have left along the way, too.

The first stop was Burt and Kim’s, they were happy to get the invite and said they’d give me a call if they see Spotty.

Second stop was Mr. Owen’s house, driving up his driveway gave me the creeps, but my worry for Spotty outweighed my fear of his shed right now. He said he’d return the dog if he seen him and said he will try to stop by for the party. He also told me to try the house way down on the corner, which was an older couple from Denmark. They’re not home very often, Pierre’s a truck driver and his wife, Ingrid, goes on the road with him a lot.

I was impressed at the seemingly normal conversation Mr. Owen and I had today, maybe he’s not so bad after all.

I made my way to the corner house and introduced myself to Pierre and Ingrid; luckily they were home for the holidays and agreed to attend my party. Most importantly they said they’d call me if they see my dog.

I had nothing left to do at this point but go home to wait and pray that Spotty shows up.

3:33am I’m once again woke, this time it wasn’t a loud bang or anything coming from behind the blinds of my bedroom window. It’s my dog, Princess, whining obsessively at my door. I quickly remember poor Spotty hadn’t come back the night before and she’s probably whining with sadness of missing him, they usually cuddle together to sleep at night. I laid in bed for a few moments debating on if I should get up and settle her down, or if I should just go back to sleep and ignore her. Just then I heard some sort of strange noise – like metal clinking together. Spotty? I thought. I sprung out of bed and into my housecoat and slippers. I stopped mid-house and listened... the back door! It’s coming from the back door! I rushed to unlock the deadbolt and twist the handle. There was Spotty, his collar-tags jingling against an opened tin can, licking the last remnants of soup from inside it.

“There you are! Where have you been boy?” again, I was thinking out loud and not actually expecting him to answer me.

I brought him in and looked him over, he was in perfect health, his coat was dry and his ears weren’t even cold, almost as though he’d been inside this whole time.

I picked up the empty can of soup and noted that it wasn’t from my garbage, and wondered where he had found it. There was also a long black crow feather inside the can, which I thought was odd. Princess was happy to have her friend back home and led him to their big, square doggie bed.

I was happy to go back to bed and even happier I didn’t have to report Spotty missing to Jeff in the morning.

Chapter 5

I woke up feeling positive, as I loaded my pod du jour- cafe cinnamon dolce. Jeff is on his way home for the holidays and we are just days away from our party. The weather had warmed up a bit, it was sunny to the point the snow was blinding and made me squint as I gazed out my kitchen window into the back yard. I chatted with Jeff and then put my coat and boots on to take the dogs outside, I looked at Spotty with a scornful look and told him there’ll be no more back yard lanyards, at least until Dad is home to keep an eye on him. Somehow, I think he understood what I was saying; he headed straight for the front door and paused to let me leash him.

After I had the dogs settled, I decided to take a shower. I got the bath towels ready and turned the heat up in the bathroom so it was warm enough that I wouldn’t freeze afterwards, this house was always so cold. I used my body puff and lathered up with the most fragrant Satsuma body wash, which was an early Christmas gift from my mother during the last time she came to visit.

I felt something prick the bottom of my foot with a strange dry, soft, but bristled, sensation. Trying to clean my face of soap as quick as I could to figure out what was touching my foot, I first jumped at the site of something black against my white porcelain tub, I reached down and picked up a long soaking-wet black crow feather, the hard dry middle quill had pricked my foot like a needle. I stood there a moment holding the black feather, confused on how it would’ve gotten into my tub, trying to recollect my thoughts if it had been there before I started my shower. I felt spooked by this strange occurrence and decided my shower was over, while I wrapped myself in a big white bath towel, still holding the feather.

I sat on my couch with a cup of hot herbal tea staring at this course black feather, still pondering where it would’ve came from and recounting all the strange occurrences that have happened since moving into this house.

I grabbed my laptop and opened Google. I searched “9 Hallow’s Creek Road”.

I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to find, but I was looking for any sort of explanation to these happenings. The very first hit that came up to my search query read;

HEADLINE: “SUICIDE OR HOMOCIDE AT 9 HALLOW’S CREEK ROAD?”

”GUILTY OR INNOCENT, POLICE ASK QUESTIONS”.

I couldn’t believe the news articles that I was reading about my home. My hands were shaking as I quickly started to spam click each article, visually scooping up as much information as my brain could quickly take-in.

According to news reports, an older couple Mr. and Mrs. Rivers had been the previous owners of the home, living here for more than forty five years. Mrs. Rivers had been found hanging in the basement, her time of death was approximately 3:30am on Christmas Eve.

Mr. Rivers, who wasn’t a suspect at the time, seemed to have vanished. He hasn’t been heard of since, leading the police to wonder if it was a suicide and disappearance or if it was a homicide. The case was filed as unsolved for the last few years and hadn’t been reopened.

My eyes were as wide as golf balls and my heart racing so fast it felt like it was vibrating as I read this.

I couldn’t believe that I was living in a house that had a suicide take place, maybe even a murder!

That would explain the eerie feelings I’ve been having. But why was I being woken at her time of death? And what was the significance of the dead crows and feathers I’d been finding?

I picked Jeff up from the airport that evening, I was more than happy to have him home, now more so than ever. We chatted that night and I showed him the newspaper articles I found on Google. He agreed that he thought it was odd, but the price of the house makes sense now, as he chuckled. I didn’t think it was funny. I fell asleep easier than usual with Jeff home and drifted off peacefully, for once.

3:33am I was startled awake, I heard a banging in the yard. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM...

I shook Jeff and asked “Do you hear that?” he rolled over and put a pillow over his head and told me to go back to sleep while he lazily mumbled “You’re over reacting, it’s probably branches...”

I was mildly irritated at his lack of concern because I knew it wasn’t branches. I was feeling gutsy enough with the safety of having my husband home, this time I sprang in to my slippers and housecoat to investigate. I quietly walked towards the mid of the house carefully listening to hear what direction the sound was coming from.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM... The back yard! It’s coming from the back yard!

I ran to the back door, unlatching the deadbolt and twisting the handle, flinging the door wide open, fully expecting to catch a dog-napper, bird killer, or axe murdered neighbour in the act of doing something!

I peered into the country darkness of my back yard, flicking off the outside light in attempts to see the edge of the forest better. I observed the stillness of the dark winter air, itching with anticipation to hear the noise again...

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM...It was our shed door! Without thinking I ran across the snow covered back deck and made my way to the shed – in my slippers. I knew nobody had been in the shed and I was the last one who latched the door closed when I put Jeff’s metal shovel back. I grabbed the door to stop the noise and I flicked the light on in the shed. There laid three dead crows in a puddle of blood, all had their necks broken.

I was petrified at the terrorizing sight of the dead birds that I just stood there with my mouth wide open astonished in fear. I let out one ear piercing scream; loud enough that it woke Jeff out of his lazy slumber, I now seen him in his house-coat and winter boots running towards me and the shed. I burst into tears and told him “See! I told you! This isn’t normal!” He took one look at the sight of the shed floor and flicked off the light, wrapping his arm around me and guiding me back into the house. I could tell he thought it was weird too, but I knew by the look on his face that he was brewing a rational explanation in his head.

“Let’s get some sleep and figure this out in the morning” he said.

Chapter 6

Jeff arrived back from town and had done some shopping. He was lifting two big boxes from the trunk. I asked “What are they” as I held the front door open for him.

“Surveillance cameras” he said.

“Surveillance cameras” I asked.

“Yes, we are going to put this dead bird business to rest once and for all”.

When we chatted over coffee this morning he was convinced we have a roaming Tom cat that had been killing the birds. I told him that it must be quite a gifted Tom cat to be able to throw them at my bedroom window, too. He didn’t reply to that statement I made.

“We are going to catch that Tom cat in the act tonight” he said as he started un-packaging the wifi enabled cameras. I replied with “Uh-huh” and rolled my eyes out loud.

I began decorating the house for our Christmas party and putting the last batch of shortbread in the oven while Jeff was busy installing all six cameras.

He opened the laptop and laid it on the kitchen counter. He had some new software installed that brought up all six camera screens simultaneously. He explained to me how to use it and showed me how I can click individual cameras to view the picture larger, or watch all six at once on smaller screens. I thought it was pretty neat and was impressed at how tech-savvy he could be. “Maybe it will give you peace of mind while I’m away, you can see all angles of our property, shed, driveway, front and back doors without having to leave our bed” he said.

“Awesome” I replied.

I was pretty unconcerned with anything at the moment while my husband is home. Fully knowing I’d be much more thankful for the cameras when he leaves to go back to work.

Christmas carols on, red wine, white wine, donair dip, nacho dip, tortilla chips, crackers, cheese and pepperoni, shortbread squares, Nanaimo bars, brown sugar fudge, and a crock pot of chilli. Everything was perfectly placed and ready for our guests. The first to arrive was my mother, and then a few of Jeff’s work buddies, a few of my clients showed up, followed by Burt and Kim, Pierre and Ingrid, and last but not least was Mr. Owen.

Jeff made me promise not to bring up the house history in front of our guests, saying it wasn’t the right setting. I agreed... reluctantly.

The evening went well; our guests all got along great and were busy eating and chit-chatting. Mr. Owen said “I like what you’ve done with the place”. I wondered to myself why he keeps making reference to being here before.

“What did it use to look like?” I asked Mr. Owen.

“Dark, vintage, not bring and colourful how you have it now” he replied.

“Did you know the Rivers family?” I asked. Jeff was now glaring at me.

“Randy and I were best friends for forty years. It’s a shame what happened” he said.

“What happened to Randy? Where is he?” I excitedly asked.

Mr. Owen began to reply “He’s...” and just then Jeff intervened in our conversation, offering Mr. Owen some donair dip, which completely broke his concentration to our conversation at hand.

I glanced at Jeff with disappointment on my face. He returned the glance with a glare.

I knew I had to finish that conversation with Mr. Owen, but right now wouldn’t be the right time, not without pissing my husband off.

After tidying the house when our guests left, Jeff did one more trial run to make sure the cameras were working, “Success, we’re going to catch that cat in the act tonight” he said while holding a piece of mistletoe over his head and a cocky smile on his face.

The next morning I woke to my 7:30am alarm. I almost had a feeling of disappointment that it had been a quiet night. I was hoping to catch something on camera.

“The cat must be camera shy” Jeff said as he did a morning stretch. “Good morning. Yeah, maybe” I replied. I was still completely convinced that there was something much more sinister at work than a Tom cat.

Chapter 7

Jeff’s week long stay came to an end and I dropped him off at the airport. It was sad to see him go, not just because I’d miss him, but I was already losing my nerve and he wasn’t even gone yet. He must have noticed the look on my face, he said “Remember we have cameras now, and I can log into the app on my phone and check-in any time of the day or night”.

“Can you set an alarm to check in at 3:33am each morning?” I said jokingly, but not joking.

“Everything will be fine. Things have been quiet for a while, I’m sure they’ll stay that way. Get all of that newspaper crap out of your head, you’re just freaking yourself out unnecessarily” he said as he gave me a good bye hug and kiss. “Ok, I promise that I won’t stress myself out about it” I said.

That night lying in bed I couldn’t help but think of my unfinished conversation with Mr. Owen; what was he going to tell me about Randy Rivers? What did he know? Did he know something the police didn’t know? How will I find out?

ROOF, BARK, AARK, GROWL, SNARE... THUMP THUMP...

I sprang up from a deep sleep; my first thought was why are my dogs going crazy out there? I cleared my eyes; sure enough it was 3:33am. I quickly wondered if I should check the cameras outside or just get up and look out the window. I decided to do both. While my app was loading on my phone I slipped into my slippers and housecoat and made my way for the living room. I seen my dogs huddled in the middle of the floor, noses pointed to the floor like pointer hounds SNIFF, SNIFF, SNIFF their noses were going crazy. I figured they must have caught a little field mouse mid tracks across the living room floor. I flicked on the living room light and there laid a dead crow in a puddle of red blood.

My blood pressure felt like it dropped to my ankles, I quickly looked around, scanning the room as I backed up into the kitchen searching for the light behind my back.

“GET, GET AWAY FROM IT” I yelled at my dogs. I was still frantically scanning the room, left to right, right to left. I reached down and grabbed my phone I had dropped on the floor and quickly snapped a picture and sent it to Jeff. My phone rang seconds later “What the hell is that?” Jeff asked. “Looks like a pretty dead fucking bird to me!” I snapped back.

“More importantly how did it get in here” I begged.

“Calm down, being hysterical won’t help this situation” Jeff replied.

“Clearly neither did cameras!” I snapped back.

“That’s it, I’ll go to play-back and check the cameras, if someone was in there I’d see them enter on camera. I’ll call you right back”.

Feeling completely panicked at the thought that someone could still be in my house I ran to my bedroom, calling my dogs, and locked the door.

I thought about calling the police, but again, you’re to report dead animals to animal control – not the police department.

I sat on the edge of my bed with my dogs, phone in my hand, waiting for Jeff to call back.

Finally, after a few minutes that felt like an hour, my phone rang.

“I don’t see anything unusual” he said.

“What do you mean? There’s a dead bird in our living room, it didn’t get there by itself, and you’re saying there’s nothing unusual on camera?” I replied.

“If there was someone in the house they didn’t come through the doors” he said.

“What about the windows, Jeff?”

“I angled the cameras to cover all places on the property and doors, not all of our windows” he said.

“Oh...my...gosh! You can’t be serious!” I said.

“Maybe he came down through the old chimney; birds get caught in those traps every day. It probably fell down the chimney and Spotty grabbed it” said Jeff.

I asked him “You don’t think this is just a little bit strange?”

“Yes” he replied.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next morning, over my pod du jour, I started searching the internet for “dead crows”. There was a bunch of web pages that talked about dead crows being messengers of death and that they’re bad omens. Reading this sent chills down my spine and started to make me feel as though there was more going on than just dead birds.

But spirits? I never believed in hocus-pocus stuff and always thought evil spirits were for Hollywood. But could my house have an evil spirit at work? Could that be what’s killing the birds? I wondered, again, what Mr. Owen knew.

I decided today would be a good day to drive up to Mr. Owens and find out. After my morning conversation with Jeff and taking the dogs for their walk I made my way up the hill.

I knocked on Mr. Owens door; he answered saying “It’s quite early isn’t it!”

I hadn’t even thought about it only being 8am “I’m sorry Mr. Owen, I just have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind chatting with me”.

“Come in” he reluctantly replied, while holding his screen door open.

He led me to his kitchen table and pulled out a chair while making his way to the counter and turning on his kettle.

“Coffee” he asked.

“Please, black” I replied while I took my mitts, hat, scarf and coat off. I never drank a black coffee in my life, but I wanted to keep it simple.

Mr. Owen returned to the table a few moments later with two black cups of coffee.

“What can I help you with” he asked.

“I wanted to further our conversation the other evening, at my party, when you were telling me about Randy Rivers. You were going to tell me what happened to him, but we were interrupted”.

Mr. Owen stared off into his coffee cup for a few moments, took a sip, and then stared a little longer in the cup.

I wondered if he was ever going to answer me, but I didn’t want to offend him by rushing him.

Finally, Mr. Owen began telling me about how the bank was going to repossess the Rivers’ home. He continued “Mrs. Rivers was a fickle ol’ broad and she had fallen into a deep depression. She swore she would die before she’d be forced to move from her home. That’s how she ultimately ended up committing suicide; we figured it was to spite the bank”.

“The day the bank changed the locks on the doors, Randy seemed to have disappeared into thin air. They had no children and no immediate family in the province, he didn’t even say goodbye to me, his friend of 40 years” said Mr. Owen.

I listened with concern, it seemed as though Mr. Owen was really upset over his friend’s disappearance and I could see his eyes gloss-over while he spoke.

I offered my sympathy saying “I’m really sorry to hear about your friend. Maybe he will turn up one day”.

Mr. Owen swigged the last gulp from his coffee cup and said “I doubt it. But every once in a while I think I see him standing on the edge of the woods, but I know it’s just my imagination wishing my friend would come back”.

I left Mr. Owen’s house feeling sorry for him. But this still didn’t explain the dead birds, like I had hoped it would.

Chapter 8

I returned home from town that afternoon with some groceries. I clipped the dogs out to their back yard lanyards; I was too busy putting away groceries to walk them. After I had everything away I went to the back door to let them in. Princess was already eagerly ready and waiting by the door, but Spotty wasn’t there. ”Not this again” I thought. I reeled the clothes line in to find a limp lanyard dragging towards me through the snow. “That little BUGGER!” I yelled out to my cold and empty back yard, while Princess was already snoring in her square doggie bed. I couldn’t believe this was happening again and wondered how long he’d be gone for this time. Hopefully not long enough I’d have to alert Jeff.

That’s right! Jeff! The cameras! I remembered!

I quickly retrieved my laptop to open the playback software. Unfortunately the cameras view didn’t reach far enough to see the edge of the woods, only the house, shed and driveway.

I tried not to worry, reminding myself how he came back last time, and that he has a winter coat on. The words of my mother echoed through my head “He’ll come back when he’s good and ready, they always do”.

I began doing some house work to pass the time. I started with the kitchen and worked my way to the living room. When I moved the couch I couldn’t believe what I was seeing... hundreds of black crow feathers were underneath the living room couch! I quickly swept them up into a dustpan and snapped a picture with my cell phone. It was as if a whole bird had been plucked and the entirety of its feathers was shoved under my couch.

I began to get that eerie feeling down the back of my neck and spine again as I quickly discarded the dustpan full of black feathers and dust bunnies into my garbage bin.

I sat at my dining room table with a cup of herbal tea and thought about having a Priest come and bless our home. I thought perhaps Mrs. Rivers’ spirit was haunting us?

If she was spiteful enough in-life to kill herself, I’m sure she’d be just as spiteful in death.

I wasn’t going to bring it up to Jeff; he would definitely think I had gone crazy.

I continued checking the front and back doors for Spotty by whistling, clapping, and yelling for him. It had been over an hour and still no sign of him. I started digging in the freezer for something to cook for supper, I wasn’t sure what I was reaching for, but whatever my hand grabbed first was going to be it tonight.

I began un-wrapping the slab of pink butcher’s paper, as I unfolded the layers, I was confused as to what piece of meat this could be, as it seemed small. I finally got to the inside final-layer; it was a plucked-clean dead crow with its head still intact. It had frozen blood drippings from its eyes and ears. I dropped the frozen dead bird on my kitchen floor and let out a shriek, loud enough that Princess woke from her slumber and stood at attention.

Now I knew for certain someone had been in my house. Even if Mrs. Rivers’ spirit was haunting me, there was no way it could’ve plucked and wrapped a dead bird.

Immediately, I reached for my phone to call Jeff, he answered with a swift “Hello” and I remembered he was in the middle of his work-day.

I tried to begin telling him about the feathers and the dead bird, but I couldn’t get the words to vocalize from my mouth.

“Hello? Are you there?” I heard Jeff’s voice get louder through the phone.

“Yes” I finally replied. Thoughts were racing through my head as I quickly wondered how to begin explaining it to him.

“What’s wrong?” Jeff’s voice grew louder.

“There’s a dead bird in our freezer, Jeff. And feathers under the couch” I responded almost in a whisper.

“What are you talking about? Have you gone completely loopy? That’s impossible” he demanded.

“Chicken thighs can look like birds and sometimes quills are still left behind, especially from butcher shops, you’re probably making something out of nothing” I just agreed with him, I’ve already made myself sound crazy enough. And I avoided telling him that Spotty was missing.

He hung up to get back to work and said he’d call me later.

The day quickly turned to cold evening as an even more eerie feeling layered my home, I sipped a tea and hoped Spotty would return, wondering where he had gotten to this time.

My phone rang, it was Jeff calling, but I decided not to answer it, remembering the dissention in his voice. I certainly didn’t need to hear his ridicule to add on to everything right now.

It kept ringing as it sat on the coffee table; I just sat there, staring at it.

I began questioning if moving to this house was good idea. And even more so, I began questioning my own sanity.

Could I be the one killing the birds?

That’s crazy; I would be incapable of killing an animal!

I exclaimed in thought, to myself, I am too much of an animal lover.

This left me wondering who would be sick enough to want to keep terrorizing me with dead birds.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink that night, especially with Spotty being missing. After triple checking that each door and all the windows were locked, which had become my new routine, I took one of my mother’s sleeping pills she had left in the spare room from her last visit.

I woke groggy and confused at 3:33am to a loud scratching noise, feeling dizzy from the sleeping pill I still sprung up, not worrying about my slippers or house coat, and made my way to the back door. I expected to see Spotty, but when I clumsily twisted the lock and handle, there was nothing there. I looked over at Princess who was snoring in her doggie bed and wondered what had waked me. As I stared into the woods I could see something moving, I began calling Spotty’s name and I could hear his tags jingling against the wind from afar. I focused my tired eyes on the edge of the woods and spotted the movement again. Without thinking, I ran out into the deep snow and bolted across the dark cold yard towards the edge.

“Spotty! Come!” I yelled as I sprinted as fast as I could.

When I reached the edge I was blindsided by a murder of crows, it would seem as though I disturbed a nest. Like a savage swarm of hornets, they encircled me. I flailed my hands in effort to defend myself against their attack, while still trying to keep Spotty in my line of sight through the dark kamikaze cloud of crows. One crow dashed to my face, grasping my cheeks with its piercing claws. Feeling very panicked, I reached up and ripped the crow from the skin of my face, unable to get a firm hold of the bird, other than by its neck; his beak still violently pecking at my hands to be freed. With one quick snap the attack was over.

There I sat at the edge of the cold and dark forested landscape holding the dead bird. Feeling in disbelief that I had taken an animal’s life, I began to slowly make my way back towards the house, still holding the dead bird in my hands as blood drippings ran down my arms. As I edged closer to the house and into the beam of our back-door’s light, it was then that I realized I was holding Spotty’s little 10 pound lifeless body in my hands.

I immediately stopped in sudden devastation and began crying as I watched the blood, now dripping to my frost-bitten bare feet in the snow.

I held Spotty’s body close to my chest; I was filled with so much pain and anger, I felt absolutely furious with myself that I could’ve made such a grave mistake.

All of a sudden I heard “3 degrees Celsius and sun is in today’s forecast” as I leaped up to my 7:30am alarm. I instantly inspected my hands and feet. I came to the abrupt realization that it was all a horrifying nightmare, feeling terrified, but relieved.

I chose a pod-du-jour, still feeling disturbed about last night’s nightmare. I called my mother and gave her an update on everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. She revealed to me that she doesn’t take those sleeping pills because the side effect is nightmares. I angrily threw them in the garbage bin.

After that I finally replied to Jeff’s calls, I told him I went to bed early, and certainly didn’t confess my horrid dream.

Almost hurrying Jeff off the phone because I heard a scratch at the door, I ran to twist the knob as fast as I could, there was Spotty! This time feeling extra thankful that he returned home, I picked him up and held him tight, kissing the soft fur atop his little head. He was once again unharmed, and seemingly warm. His collar was missing and he was holding a black knitted toque in his mouth. I took it from him and asked “Where did you find this?” Again, fully knowing he couldn’t answer me. Meanwhile Princess was dancing around my feet, happy to have her companion back.

I set the toque on the kitchen counter and began filling the dog’s water and food bowls, figuring Spotty must be hungry and thirsty after missing for almost 24 hours.

After examining the toque I noticed the initials R.R. inscribed along the rim. I immediately came to the conclusion that it must be Randy Rivers’ hat.

But where did Spotty get this?

The lawn and forest was snow covered, it’s not like it was just lying around.

Could Mr. Owen have had my dog? Was this sent to me as a message? Is Mr. Owen or someone trying to purposely scare us out of the neighbourhood?

My mind flooded with so many questions and normally I’d call Jeff to talk this out; but hearing the aggravation in his voice lately, every time I bring this up, I decided not to.

I thought I should confront Mr. Owen about Spotty continuously going missing and the toque he came back with. After finishing my caffeine fix for the day, I suited up in my winter’s best and headed up the hill. Removing my glove, I gave a stern knock on the door, which was answered a few moments later.

“Hello Mr. Owen, do you have a moment?” I asked through the crack of the door he had ajar.

“I’m busy, I’m in the middle of something right now” he replied rigidly.

“It will only take a second” I insisted, as I peered through the door crack, expecting to see Spotty’s collar somewhere. Mr. Owen reluctantly opened his jarred door wide enough that I pushed my way in. I visually scanned the room, looking for any evidence that Spotty had been there, as I made my way to his kitchen table.

“Coffee” he asked. “Black” I replied. Again, I was trying to keep it simple.

“Mr. Owen, my dog keeps disappearing and coming back a day later, completely unscaved. It makes me think that somebody is taking-him-in during his time away”

Mr. Owen looked at me through the top of his eyes, looking at me like he thought I was crazy. He poured coffee into two mugs. “And why do you think anybody would want to do that” leaning his head, he asked sympathetically.

In that moment I realized Mr. Owen was beginning to think I was the crazy neighbour.

I promptly reported to him that Spotty came home with a black toque inscribed with R.R. as I retrieved it from my winter coat’s pocket, showing him the evidence.

Mr. Owen lifted an eyebrow as he inspected the inscription. “Yep, that was Randy’s hat” he sighed “Where on earth would your dog have found that” he asked with concern.

“I don’t know, but I need to get to the bottom of this, there has been a lot of strange occurrences happening lately and I’m growing quite concerned” I finished by telling him about the dead crows. Mr. Owen listened with intrigue and shrugged his shoulders.

I could tell by his puzzled response that he clearly had nothing to do with my dog’s disappearance, or the dead crows. And Mr. Owen didn’t strike me as the ‘great actor’ type.

Chapter 9

The turn of the New Year darkened the gloomy winter sky to an even more eerie grey as the weeks passed. Jeff continued to return home – and leave again, he never wanted to entertain any conversation of the strange events in our home, which continued during his absences. Being woken to bumps in the night, the dogs barking and growling, and dead crows thrown at my windows were all regular occurrences. I did my best to ignore these things and act as if it weren’t happening, I had gotten use to the haunting feeling that I constantly carried around with me.

Spring was upon us and I had hoped the sunny days would lighten the mood and things would begin to improve.

My morning radio alarm clock informed me that the groundhog seeing his shadow was right and we are going to have spring-like temperatures today and in the rest of the forecast. Now that the snow was melted and we were at no risk for frost, I decided to do some yard clean up, and get started on my vegetable garden in the back yard.

During the yard cleanup I found countless empty cans of soup around the property, I wondered where they had all came from, but it didn’t surprise me that Spotty found one during his first absence.

I finished raking and planting my vegetable seeds and decided to open the pool. I knew the spring thaw would have melted the water by now so it would be safe to uncover it and add the first chemicals of the season. I began cranking the tarp cover, as the tarp dragged from the edges of the deck lining it was leaving a wake of black feathers. After having the tarp completely recoiled on the spindle I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, blood stained water filled my pool of dead crows. Appalled and horrified by the sight, all I could do was stare into the massacre.

I pinched myself in hopes I was having another nightmare and shook my head in disbelief.

I knew I couldn’t call Jeff, but I remembered his cameras covered the pool area. Unclipping the dogs from the clothesline lanyards, I ran into the house, and locked the door while I gasped for my breath. I couldn’t get my rubber boots and gardening gloves off fast enough as I dashed for my laptop and sunk into my couch, waiting for it to load. I searched through the playback videos focusing mainly on the hours between 3:00am and 4:00am which is when things always seem to get weird. I started back in January as we hadn’t checked the cameras since then.

I couldn’t believe my eyes! The image was blurry and completely in black, the figure appeared to be masked and hooded. I went back and forth, day by day, searching through three months worth of footage. The figure had been there on multiple occasions, always at night around 3:30am. “FINALLY” I yelled aloud in my living room, as my dogs started at me with their ears raised. I grabbed my phone to call Jeff as quick as I could, snatching it from beside the laptop, on the coffee table.

“Hello” he answered.

“Jeff I caught him, I seen him, it’s on your video” I yelled into the phone.

“Caught who? Seen what?” he said with aggravation in his voice.

He began to continue with ridicule in his voice, but I quickly shut him up by saying “I’m sending you the footage now” and hit the red ‘end’ button on my cell phone.

I sat there for a few moments while waiting for the video file to send and was buzzing with confidence of knowing I was right about everything all along. Finally, the file was finished sending. I smugly sat there waiting for my phone to ring back... after a few moments, which felt like an eternity, it was Jeff.

“Call the police. NOW” he yelled through the phone.

“I told you it wasn’t all in my head” I replied in a catty tone.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I’ll be on the next flight home, call the police” he replied.

I didn’t call 9-1-1 because it wasn’t in an emergency; I wasn’t being harmed at the moment.

So I tried calling the local RCMP station’s phone number, but it would just ring, and ring, and finally hang-up. This went on multiple times. Feeling impatient, I packed up my laptop and charger and decided to drive to the station.

I was greeted at the front desk by a stocky middle aged woman with short orange hair dressed in full uniform.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’d like to file a police report” I replied.

She led me to a smaller room, with an older man, who she said was ready to take my report.

He was tall, wore glasses, and spoke with in Newfoundland slang.

“I’m Constable Kelly here, and you are?” he asked, as he reached his hand out. I shook it and sat down, clenching my laptop and charger on my lap.

“What brings ya in today” he questioned.

With one big breath I explained all of the strange events leading up to now; 3:33am, the feathers, Spotty missing, the dead birds, the pools and the cameras. After urging me to slow down, he looked at me over his thick brimmed glasses with a grin on his face and said “Well that’s quite a story for the books, ain’t it. Now let’s have a look at the evidence ya got”.

I powered on my laptop, rotating it towards him, and hit the play button of the video compilation I made from my surveillance cameras.

“Is that birds he keeps throwin’ in the pool?” he queried.

“YES” I gasped!

“Weird fella to be doin’ something like that” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

“Do you know anyone who would want to do this to yas?” he continued.

“No” I replied.

“Has he hurt ya in any way or threatened ya?” he asked, leaning forward in enthusiasm.

“No, but I think he took my dog. Twice” I replied.

“Evidence of him taking the dog?” he asked quickly in return.

“No” I replied. “But my dog did come home with an empty can once, and then a hat which had an inscription on it” I continued.

“Have ya seen him? Can ya give me a description?” he anxiously asked, while scratching his head.

“No, this is the only footage I have” I replied.

“Well we got a bit of a pickle here I’d say. He hasn’t hurt or threatened ya, we can’t prove he took the dog, so really, ‘trespassing’ is the most we have on him” he said reluctantly.

“Trespassing? More like terrorizing me” I replied in a stern tone.

“What about the dead birds? Can people go around killing animals? That’s not a crime now?” I continued in a stern, but disappointing tone.

“Well the problem is ya see, we don’t have evidence of him actually harming the birds. They appear to already be dead while he’s throwin’ them in your pool. Look, I agree this is a weird thing for someone to be doing, so I’m going to head out your way and just have a look around” said Constable Kelly.

“Take my card, call me right away if you see anything out the ordinary” he said, as he wrote his cell number on the back of his card.

I gave him my address and thanked him for his time, feeling slightly unsatisfied with the results of my report. He let me know he was busy today but he’d be out first thing in the morning.

Driving down Hallow Creek Road I could see a cloud of smoke coming from deep within the woods. I was well aware that hunters used the large acreage of woods behind our house, but I questioned which hunting season would be so early in the year.

Upon my arrival home I was greeted by my dogs that were anxious to be let outside. I clipped them to their lanyards out back, flicked my kettle on and put my laptop back to where it belonged. I reached into the freezer and grabbed whatever it would be for supper tonight. Chicken breast it was. I chopped a few potatoes and onions, adding some summer savoury spice, and threw it all in a small roasting pan for the oven. I poured a cup of herbal tea and retrieved my phone from my coat pocket to call Jeff. I let him know everything Constable Kelly said and that he will be coming by tomorrow morning. Jeff said he had put a request in for an early flight home and he’s waiting for it to be approved.

My home had an eerie feeling to it, much more than ever before, but at least now I know that it was somebody doing this, and it wasn’t in all in my head. I felt like I had some sort of answer to this mystery. I recalled the feathers being under my couch and shower, and then the bird in my freezer... it really creeped me out to know somebody had been inside my house, and more so, I was still baffled to why anyone would be doing this. I sipped my tea and racked my brain trying to come up with some sort of logic to my situation.

While in the basement laundry room switching a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, I could hear the wind passing through the small crack of a window slightly ajar.

I turned to notice the small window near the top of the concrete foundation wall that was barely visible from behind some drywall sheets and plywood that Jeff had leaning against it. Finishing the basement was on his eventual ‘honey-do list’.

I slide the sheets of drywall and plywood sideways and grabbed an empty five gallon bucket, placing it upside down to use as a stool. Sure enough the window slid open with ease, I could hear my dogs barking from around the other side of my house; it hadn’t been locked the entire time. I said out-loud “Well then...mystery solved” as I slammed the window closed and locked it.

I was pissed off that Jeff could’ve made such an over sight, but in his defence, I hadn’t thought of this window either. I was the one always home and should know the house better than anyone. I was comforted at the thought of my house being safe and secure now as I made my way up the stairs. I could hear the dogs still barking while I went into the kitchen to check the chicken in the oven. I told them “Just a minute, I’m coming” as I hastily grabbed a tea towel and used it to slide out the oven rack. As I lifted the lid of the roasting pan, I seen my chicken replaced with a dead crow. Neck broke, and still feathered, not plucked this time. It gave me such a startle that I dropped the roasting pan lid on my kitchen floor making a loud clashing sound. Like a brass rim-shot of a drum set. I rushed to the back door to see if I could catch whoever had just been in my house. I ran onto the back deck “HEY, GET BACK HERE, THE POLICE ARE LOOKING FOR YOU, I HAVE YOU ON CAMERA” I yelled with squinted eyes as I scanned the back yard and edge of the woods, looking for any movement. The only thing I could see was my dogs at the edge of the yard, fiercely barking towards the dense woods.

I immediately called the cell phone number Constable Kelly had written on the back of his card. He picked up on the first ring “Constable Kelly Here” he answered.

“He was here! In my house!” I yelled through the phone.

“Hold on, calm down, is he still there right now?” he asked.

“No” I replied. “I tried to catch him, but he must have run into the woods”.

“Are you sure he’s not still in the house” he asked with great concern.

“... I... I don’t think so” I was barely able to vocalize as I came to the sudden realization that he could still be in my house, almost dropping the phone.

“I’m sending a car over to 9 Hallow’s Creek Rd. right now” As I heard him dispatch over his radio.

“The best place for you to be right now is in your locked and running car until we know exactly where this lunatic is” he said.

By now I was forcefully hauling the clothes-line lanyards in to retrieve my dogs as fast as I could. I hit the ‘Off’ button of my oven and rushed us into my car to wait for the police to arrive.

After only a few minutes I could hear sirens piercing the rural roads of Hallow Creek, making their way to my house. Two cars with lights and sirens skidded into my driveway, coming to a quick halt. The officers rushed out of their cars, immediately bee-lining towards my front and back door, with one hand hovering over their holsters.

A few moments later I seen the officers returning to their cars, the officer in-charge made his way towards my car. I rolled down my window to talk with him; “We are aware you’ve been having problems with an intruder, we didn’t find anyone in the residence ma’am, and your house is safe and secure. We would recommend you keep your windows and doors locked until we catch this guy, and if you have any problems just give us a call”.

I thanked the officer and was relieved to know that nobody was in my house, as I figured, the culprit disappeared off into the woods and that’s why my dogs were barking towards them.

Chapter 10

The next morning I woke before my 7:30 am radio alarm, the days were getting longer and the sun was rising earlier. I had my morning pod-du-jour and let the dogs out, clipping Princess to her thick pink collar studded with silver hearts and clipping Spotty to a temporary rope one, still feeling irritated at his nice blue collar and tags being missing.

Jeff called and let me know he’d be home in two days time, for a week. I was happy he was able to get the early time off.

My phone rang, it was my mother. She wanted all the latest details on the “Crow Killer” as she scornfully called it. She always made me laugh with her sarcasm.

As I sat with my Crème Brule latte and scrolled through the latest social media posts, I was alerted to my dogs barking in the back yard. They sounded fierce, again, like they did the day before. I sprang up and ran to the back door, hoping to catch the culprit in-the-act. Standing on the back deck in my slippers and house coat, I leaned over the deck railing, watching for any form of movement. I could see my dogs both on their hind legs, front paws in the air, being only restrained by their leashes, trying to bolt into the woods. I wondered what had caused such a stir, I thought perhaps it was the “Crow Killer” or maybe it was just a squirrel. I watched attentively for a few moments, after seeing nothing, I returned to my Crème Brule.

I tended to some household tasks and began my day with indoor activities, finally moving to the outdoor tasks by mid afternoon. The dogs trailing behind me as I worked in the garden and continued raking leaves that collected around the edge of the shed. I didn’t dare to touch or look at the pool, that was on the top of Jeff’s honey-do list when he arrived home this weekend, actually I couldn’t even bare to look in the pools direction.

I made a late-lunch sandwich with a cup of herbal tea and sat on the back deck with my dogs, enjoying the mid-afternoon’s warm sunshine; which was warm enough that I was comfortably in a T-Shirt. The forest edge was getting greener and seeing the new buds blossoming made for an absolute gorgeous rural landscape. It reminded me why I had moved here, the scenery, the birds and wildlife, the smell of rich fresh air and mostly the quiet lifestyle. I was so tired of living in Halifax; it was growing so big and getting almost over-populated. There were new development subdivisions and apartment buildings being built everywhere. It was starting to remind me of Toronto, like a concrete jungle. That was a stern reminder of why I loved Hallow Creek.

I heard my door-bell ring, my dogs sprung up and we made our way to the front door. I cautiously peeked out the front window before unlocking my dead-bolted door. It was Constable Kelly;

“Sorry I took so long to get out here, I’ve been tied up at work with another case” he said.

“No problem” I said, as I opened the door inviting him in.

I showed him around, including the shed, basement window, my bedroom window, and the pool. He wrote a lot of notes in his notebook, not saying much, but visually surveillancing everything, with notation. While walking the perimeter of the property he began taking notice to a small opening far-off at the edge of our property; “Do you get out hiking much” he asked.

“No, I’ve never been past the edge of the woods” I said.

He began curiously leading into the small beaten opening into the woods. It wasn’t quite a path, but more so a clearing. I immediately felt nervous, but I figured that I was with a police officer that has a gun, so surely no “Axe Murdered” or “Crow Killer” would be balsie enough to approach us. I followed Constable Kelly into the woods, feeling thankful I still had on bug repellent from working in the yard earlier, with my dogs eagerly trailing behind us.

Spotty ran forward; taking a lead, almost like he knew where we were headed, while Constable Kelly held-up fallen branches and pushed-back protruding bushes to allow us to pass.

Finally, after a quarter kilometre I asked “How much further do you intended on going”.

“Just a bit further, I can see an opening to a lake, it will give us a better view” he said, while swatting at a few black flies that were now swarming him while he stopped to talk.

I thought to myself, a lake? I didn’t know we had a lake on our property.

We arrived to the lake’s edge, looking a little winded and agitated from the black flies; Constable Kelly asked “Nice view here. Is that your camp” I looked straight across the lake from directly where stood. There I seen a run down; small wooden camp, with a not-so-sturdy looking dock and row boat tied to it.

“No, it’s not ours, my husband isn’t a hunter” I said.

“The only way to get to the camp is to hike around the lake” he said.

I took a deep breath, reluctant to want to go any further, but curious enough that I wanted to follow. Besides, I wasn’t walking back all by myself. So I agreed, saying “Let’s go check it out”.

We continued around the lake towards the camp. When we arrived, there was a fire still smouldering in the ash of the pit outside, with some cans of gas and matches sitting nearby. And there were hand woven fishing nets hung from a few trees. Constable Kelly yelled “Hello, is there anyone on the premises, Hallow’s Creek Police Department”. No reply.

Spotty ran right to the door, anxiously sniffing around the edges, while Princess found a sunny patch of grass to take a rest. Officer Kelly knocked on the door, again asking if anyone was on the premises and again; no reply. He pushed the door open and Spotty bolted inside, we followed him in. Inside we saw a small single bed with side-table, a table with chair, a pantry shelf full of cans of soup, and some random belongings strewn throughout. Constable Kelly began curiously opening each drawer of the side-table and looking through things while I stayed behind him, strangely nervous that someone would return.

We also found a can opener, pen and paper, battery operated radio, utensils, candles, razors, scads of paperwork, rope and an old black and white photograph with the word “Randy” written on the back. As soon as I seen that I snapped a picture with my phone and I told Officer Kelly “I bet that’s Randy, as in Randy Rivers, the previous owner!”

Officer Kelly looked at the photo curiously and slipped it into his pocket. He flipped over some of the paperwork and found some old letters addressed to Mrs. Rivers, all signed “Love, Randy”. The return address on the top left of the envelopes said Hallow’s Creek Institution, which we both knew was a Psychiatric facility.

“Randy Rivers was in the psych ward!?” I questioned with intrigue. Officer Kelly and I looked at each other puzzled as he slipped the envelope into his pocket with the photograph.

Our walk back had my mind racing in so many different directions; I began thinking out loud as we fought our way back through the brush and flies.

“Could Randy Rivers be living in my woods and haunting me? But why...”

“Could Randy Rivers have something to do with his wife’s death? But why...”

“Could Mr. Owen know about this and has been keeping his secret? But why...” I said

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves; it could’ve been his camp and belongings from years ago” said Officer Kelly..

I said “But why was the fire still smouldering, that indicates he was there, just recently and....”

“No, that indicates that someone was there recently, not necessarily Randy” said Officer Kelly, cutting me off.

“But Spotty seemed to know that place, like he had been there before, whoever was recently there has been stealing my dog, we should’ve stayed and waited for the dog thief to show up, regardless of who it turns out to be. I think whoever has been taking my dog is the same person who’s terrorizing me with dead crows” I ranted in accusation.

Officer Kelly quietly listened to my rant of theories, but didn’t reply.

We arrived back to my house, he offered the suggestion “When your husband gets home this weekend I would suggest setting up more cameras. You’ve somehow managed to keep missing this creep on video, other than the pool incident. Set up more cameras and get all doors and windows of your home. Hell, maybe a few near the edge of the woods too. We need to ID this guy. Other than that, there’s really nothing I can do at this time. I’m sorry. Call me if anything else pops up”

Again, I was left feeling disappointed in the outcome. Nothing has been solved; I was still left with more questions than answers.

That evening while relaxing on the couch, I chatted with Jeff. I told him about all the events that transpired today and all of my theories; he quickly sided with Officer Kelly, telling me it could’ve been anyone back there and that the picture was probably left over from when the Rivers’ use to be around. It irritated me that he seemed to have such a closed mind, I was offering up so many theories and he seemed to shut each one down, saying I watch to many detective shows. I knew if I wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery I’d have to solve it myself.

Chapter 11

I sat on the couch with a mug of hot herbal tea and a freshly popped bowl of warm microwave popcorn. I lit a cinnamon scented candle on the coffee table and flicked on the Investigation channel, as I usually do before bed. Five hundred android channels and real-life murder mystery was the only channel I seemed to frequent.

I could hear the wind howl outside of my living room window, there was a rain storm brewing in the dark overcast sky. It was murky enough that you couldn’t see a single star on the sky’s ceiling and the full moon shone her appearance intermittently between fast moving shadowy rain clouds. My dogs were both curled up by my feet on the couch, both hogging the most of my throw blanket. While completely immersed in the TV’s real life drama the power began to flicker. I thought how annoying it is that Newfoundland could get eight feet of snow and remain with power, but a little wind and rain knocks out Nova Scotia’s power almost instantly. I got up and plugged my cell phone into my charger in my bedroom, I figured if we lost power, at least I could have a full battery, and I returned back to the couch.

After a few episodes and a few blinding flashes of lightening, closely followed by loud claps of thunder, the TV completely shut off; as well as the rest of the electricity in the house. I said aloud “Well I guess its bedtime” to my dogs, who seemed unconcerned with now using their night vision. I grabbed the lit candle from my coffee table to use as my light and cautiously began making my way across the living room, towards the hallway to my bedroom. My dogs suddenly began abruptly barking which startled me so quick that I jolted. As I jolted, the pool of melted wax extinguished the candle flame and left me with zero vision of the hallway. I was faced with decision if I should try to make my way back to the living room table where my matches were, or continue to my bedroom to my cell phone. I was in such a panic, and feeling rushed from all the barking, I instinctively reached my arms out to grab the hallway wall; dropping the square glass candle holder and spilling hot melted wax everywhere, including on my foot. I hurried down the hallway; my foot in excruciating pain from being coated with hot melted wax, holding my hands out in front of me in anticipation of soon hitting my bedroom door. When I reached the door I could hear the quick scraping of metal paired with the crinkle of plastic, it sounded like someone pulled the shower curtain in the bedroom bath. A silent stiffness quickly stoned my body, I no longer could feel the pain of my burnt foot, I could no longer hear my dogs, and I could only hear the sound of my rapid heartbeat in my chest. I was frozen in fear and held my breath. As I stood in the archway of my bedroom door, I could see the illuminated glow of my cell phone on the bedside table. I wondered if I should dart past the bathroom door for my phone, or slowly backup into the night of the hallway. My dogs stormed the hallway dashing directly to my bedroom bath, continuously barking, which brought me out of my paranoid numbness. I figured going for my cell phone was a better idea than going back into the unlit house. So with one quick leap I dashed to my bedside table yanking my phone from the powerless cord. I quickly swiped up on my home screen and pressed the flashlight button. I stood at the doorway of my bedroom bath, shining the light from my phone at the shower curtain; my dogs still at my feet growling towards the shower. I nervously said with a crackle in my voice “Who’s there, the police are on their way” and just then I realized I hadn’t even dialled 911 yet. Shit!

I stopped my hands from shaking long enough to swipe up and hit the phone button, dialling 911 and pressing the speaker.

The operator answered “911 what is your emergency” I quickly stuttered “There’s someone in my house, I think. My address is 9 Hallow’s Creek Rd., please hurry!”

The operator replied that police were on their way and to stay on the phone with her. I noticed on my bathroom shelf I had a pair of scissors, I reached for them, not taking my light or eyes off the shower curtain for a second. I inched my nervously shaking hand towards the shower curtain and with one big gulp of nerve I yanked the shower curtain open as fiercely as I could, ready for a violent altercation, armed with scissors. There lay a dead crow, a stream of blood flowing down the center of the tub towards the drain. I released the tight grip I had on my phone dropping it and let out a blood curdling scream as I now hear my dogs barking a growling viciously from behind me. Thump! Was the last thing I remember.

I woke to paramedics lifting me into an ambulance and informing me that I sustained a pretty good whack to the head and they were taking me to the emergency to get checked out. All I could get out was “My dogs!” One of the paramedics quickly assured me that they are fine and secured in the house.

When we arrived at the hospital I was greeted by a police officer who wanted to take a statement. I told him everything I recalled from the evenings events, while he quickly jotted down the verbatim in his notepad. I used the hospital phone to call Officer Kelly “I just heard what happened and I’m on my way to you now, sit tight” he said.

Just moments later Officer Kelly arrived and took over the note taking process from the other police officer. I explained everything to Officer Kelly and he asked “Are you sure someone was actually in the house or could you have just been a little freaked out by the storm, maybe tripped in the dark and hit your head”.

“Yes I am sure someone was there, I didn’t put a dead bird in my shower myself and I certainly can’t hit the back of my own head” I snapped back.

“Ok, Ok, I just want to be clear on the facts” he replied back.

“The facts are the ‘Crow Killer’ was in my house, again, and this time he tried to kill me” I said in a bitter tone.

After the doctor finished his tests and signed my release papers, Officer Kelly offered to give me a drive home, which I anxiously accepted. It was nearing dawn now, we chatted on the drive about what a long night it had been, and observed all the tree limbs that had been blown down from the rain storm. Officer Kelly gave me the business card of a local home-security system installer that he knew, personally. “Give him a call and tell ‘em I sent ya” Officer Kelly said with his Newfoundland slang. When we arrived at my home, Officer Kelly pulled into the driveway. I sat in the passenger seat feeling reluctant to go inside.

“The officers did a clean sweep of the house, there’s nobody in there and nothing for you to worry about” said Officer Kelly as he rolled down his window and lit a cigarette. He could obviously tell I was feeling reluctant to return. I continued to sit in the passenger seat fiddling with the business card he had just given me. Officer Kelly turned off his engine and said “Come on; let’s go give another clean sweep so you can rest easy”. I instantly felt relieved and headed for my front door.

My dogs greeted us and danced around my feet anxiously waiting to be let outside. Officer Kelly removed his shoes and began making his way through each room while I clipped the dogs to their lanyards in the back yard and loaded my pod-du-jour – happy to have my electricity back.

“I don’t suppose your cameras caught anything last night” yelled Officer Kelly from another room. “No they’re wifi and won’t work if the power is out” I replied.

Officer Kelly returned a few moments later with my cell phone;

“I found this in the bedroom bath” he said.

It had a cracked screen, but still worked and I could see that I had a few notifications of missed calls from Jeff. In his other hand he was holding a garbage bag which had the dead crow in it. I thanked him for bringing me home, searching my home and disposing of the bird. “No problem, I told you if you needed anything to give me a call, and I meant it” he said. I thanked him and waved out my front door as he pulled out of my driveway.

I let the dogs in and called Jeff, telling him everything that had happened last night. He was extremely concerned and reminded me to triple check that all our windows and doors were locked. We were both happy he was on his way home.

Chapter 12

I picked Jeff up from the airport and was feeling thankful to have him home now. I couldn’t sleep at all and was looking forward to a good night sleep with him by my side.

We arrived in our driveway, the dogs already in the window with excitement, as if they knew ‘Dad’ was home.

We relaxed for most of the day; although I had no choice as I was ordered to relax by the doctor, we enjoyed sitting on our back deck in the sunshine, barbequing and not wanting to give much thought to pressing matter at hand, almost in procrastination and avoidance.

The next day we had to face the elephant in the room; Jeff took a trip to town and returned with some more electronic items as well as the home-security man.

I observed from my deck lounger chair that he and Officer Kelly’s home-security friend were walking the perimeter of the house and taking measurements. I could overhear the man explaining to Jeff that the sensors will detect any movement and begin recording, wifi enabled and complete with battery back-up in case the power goes out.

I thought to myself how I could’ve used that last week and avoided this knot on my head and concussion. The man said he should be able to have it all up-and-running within the next few days.

That evening over supper Jeff admitted to me that he’s torn between thinking another bird flew down the chimney that night of the storm and somehow got trapped in the shower. He also thinks there’s a possibility that I was just frightened by the power going out and hit my head. I can’t disregard his theory as being possible, however I just knew that someone was in my house that night and hit me on my head, without a shadow of doubt in my mind.

I tried to argue the footage of the ‘Crow Killer’ at our poolside and asked if he thought that was merely coincidental. Of course he said “Anything is possible”. We agreed to disagree, but to be safe he’s going along with my ‘Crow Killer’ intruder theory, not disregarding my story fully, luckily for him.

I woke to my morning radio alarm, feeling fully rested and thankful to have had a great night sleep. My dogs greeted me in the kitchen as I selected a random pod-du-jour and loaded my Kurig. Jeff emerged from the bedroom and wrapped his arms around me, telling me how happy he is to be home. I agreed, the energy in our house felt cozy and not haunting while he was here and I didn’t feel like I was being watched.

“I’m going to head out to that camp today that you and Officer Kelly found, do you want to come” said Jeff as he stirred three milk and three sugars into his plain black medium roast instant coffee. Yuck, I thought while replying “Nope, I have garden work to do. Don’t forget to wear bug repellent”.

Jeff let the dogs in from the back yard lanyards while I reached into the freezer and took out two thick T-Bone steaks to thaw and BBQ for supper.

After a few cups of coffee, a load of laundry and running the dishwasher; I got changed into a T-Shirt and Capri pants to head out and tend to my garden chores. It was a beautiful day, warm enough to almost be considered summer by day, but still spring by night. I loved this weather, seeing everything beginning to bloom filled me with so much excitement of possibility; growth and renewal.

I waved to Jeff as he left towards the woods; looking like a miner with his new fancy go-pro camera strapped to his head. I made my way to the garden, kneeling and beginning to pull weeds.

I started at the beginning of the garden, working my way through the rows deeper-in, equipped with a hoe and water jug. I had worked up a sweat and was about midway through the garden. I started hacking the hoe into the dirt, but it was catching on something. I began un-digging this mound that the hoe was catching on; pulling and hacking harder and more forcefully. Finally with one lump it revealed itself to be a dead crow. I sat in the middle of my garden staring at this decaying mound of bird, wondering how or why it would’ve been buried there. I recalled Officer Kelly leaving with a dead crow in a garbage bag, but I watched him dispose of it to the curb side before getting in his car and driving away. Could it have been the same crow I wondered?

I was growing less repulsed at the sight of dead birds, I have seen so many over the last year that I now feel sorry for these dead animals, rather than terrified. I shook my head in disgust, determining that whoever this is must truly be a full-blown psychopath to be able to kill animals so easily. I disposed of the animal in the green bin and returned to continue my gardening. As I moved to the next row the same thing was happening. I dug my hoe into the earth and came across another clump, which revealed it to be another dead bird. By the end of garden I had dug up 6 dead crows, as if this ‘Crow Killer’ used my vegetable garden as some sort of burial ground. I disposed of the crows into the green bin and decided I had enough gardening for the day.

As I stood at the kitchen window scrubbing some large baking potatoes to go with our steaks tonight, I could see Jeff running from the edge of the woods; bolting towards the house. I thought to myself he must have been bit by something or injured to be in such a scramble, so I headed to the medicine cabinet for some Benadryl, Band aids and peroxide; and then headed towards the back door. Jeff was out of breath and standing at the back door hunched over with his hands on his knees “Get, get the laptop” he managed to squeeze out between his breaths. I could see there was no injury and did as he asked by retrieving the laptop, which we laid out on the kitchen table. Jeff tossed Spotty’s missing blue collar on the table, unstrapped the go-pro camera and loaded the SD card into the side of the laptop. I could see his hands were shaky. He opened the folder to view all recorded files. He double clicked today’s video file that was created:

Video file timestamp 11:30 am: Jeff walking through the woods, past the lake and arriving at the camp. Jeff entered the camp to find Spotty’s blue leather collar, which was missing, lying on the table. Jeff collected it and he looks around at a few other items.

Video file timestamp 12:00 pm: Jeff exits the camp and hears an ATV in the near distance, he hides behind some bushes and pulls a branch in front of his body to camouflage himself.

Video file timestamp 12:15 pm: There arrives Mr. Owen at the camp on his ATV and begins collecting the nets that are hung from the trees, folding them up and strapping them to the back of his ATV. Jeff uncovers himself and begins running through the woods making his way home.

“I can’t believe what you’re showing me! Mr. Owen is the ‘Crow Killer’” I yelled in panic

“Yes, I think so” Jeff replied

“He tried to kill me the other night, he was in our house!” I said, as I grabbed my phone and began dialling Officer Kelly’s cell number.

“Officer Kelly here” he answered

“We caught him; on video, proof it’s our neighbour, Mr. Owen” I rambled into the phone

“I’ll be right over” said Officer Kelly.

Officer Kelly arrived and we showed him the footage. He agreed that it looks to be the ‘Crow Killer’. He said we don’t have any proof of him killing the birds – just netting them. “We do have him on trespassing on your private property; which is enough to bring him in for questioning. And hopefully telling him we have him on video tape with the nets will be enough to get a confession out of him”.

I almost jumped with excitement that this nightmare was over. We thanked Officer Kelly and watched him drive up the hill to bring our neighbour in to the police station.

It was a beautiful evening and I was feeling extra content; happy with the results of today’s events and feeling safe. It was comforting in knowing that no psychopath would be terrorizing me with dead birds, no bumps in the night, and most importantly no feelings of being watched.

We enjoyed our steaks and watched the sunset over the woods from our back deck. Jeff checked the temperature of our nicely cleaned pool, which read a chilly 23C on the thermometer; he jokingly asked if I wanted to go skinny dipping? I seriously replied to him “No”.

“Sunny and a high of twenty six degrees today” I woke to my morning alarm. Jeff mumbled asking why I set an alarm, while he covered his head with a pillow.

I told him the dogs like routine, as I sprung up and into my slippers, feeling extra cheerful today.

I clipped the dogs out and loaded my pod-du-jour wondering what happened with Mr. Owen yesterday and if Officer Kelly was able to get a confession, or more importantly a reasoning.

A knock came to the door; I tightened my housecoat strings securely and answered. It was the home-security guy. I told him “Just a minute” and I’d send Jeff out, knowing he’d be thrilled at an 8:00 am visitor, and wondering if spending all the extra money was even necessary now.

I sat on the back deck with my dogs sipping my gourmet crème de coco latte. I could hear the birds chirping over the hum of the pool pump, the sun was shining bright enough I wore a pair of sunglasses, while trolling my tablet to the latest social media posts. Jeff and the security guy were making their way around the perimeter of the house, installing the last of the cameras.

After a while Jeff called for my attention in our home. “He’s going to show you how to arm and disarm the keypad” he said.

“The new security code is 5266. You’ll need to enter this code every time you enter or exit the home” said the security guy.

“Green button, Red button, 5266, yep; easy peasy – I got it” I told him, thanking him, and returning to my back deck and dogs, unconcerned with security now that the ‘Crow Killer’ is in custody.

Chapter 13

Jeff and I wondered what happened with Mr. Owen after being taken to the station yesterday, and I wondered if we should call Officer Kelly to follow-up. Jeff scolded me to let them do their police work and stay out of their way. I was a little irritated at his imperious approach to the situation; of course I’m beyond curious, I’m the one who’s been living this nightmare. But I can also understand Jeff’s position of wanting to put this all behind us; since moving to our new home it had been one negative thing, after another, after another. And it was time to forget the negative, move on to the positive, and start enjoying the rest of our life.

We went to bed that evening with the confidence of knowing we’d sleep easy with our new fancy security alarm system installed; the weather was getting warm enough now that we could sleep with our bedroom window open, which allowed a cool fresh breeze to flow. We hadn’t had our heat pumps installed yet, since our purchase, and it was on Jeff’s perpetual honey-do list.

We were abruptly awoken to the sound of our house alarm siren piercing our ears. I could feel something wet on my hands, I glanced at the radio alarm and the bright red digital numbers displayed 3:33 am. I quickly tried to focus my eyes through the pitch black room to figure out what could be so wet and sticky; with no success and not wanting to get this sticky goo all over my cell phone to turn on the flash light, I slid out of bed – hearing something land on the floor, thud! Jeff bee-lined to the front door key pad to quiet the alarm while I flicked on the bedroom bath light, I seen my hands, arms and night gown were full of blood. The thud I heard was the dead bird rolling on the floor when I got out of bed. I opened the water faucet as full as it would go, irritated that this could still be happening.

“Jeff” I yelled, while vigorously rubbing soap lather on my hands, between my fingers and up my arms. “Jeff!” I yelled louder.

He came back to our bedroom once he quieted the alarm and seen our once white duvet was covered in bright red blood. He looked around a little puzzled and seen the screen on the window had been sliced open.

“I don’t understand how this happened” I said, as I continued scrubbing my hands in the sink.

“Shouldn’t the alarm have gone off before he had a chance to slice open the screen and throw the bird in” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll check the camera footage and see exactly how it happened” Jeff said.

“You should call Officer Kelly, too! Tell him “Thanks a lot” for letting that maniac go, obviously it didn’t deter him one bit from harassing us” I said bitterly.

“Yes, I’ll call first thing in the morning, not at 3:30am, he’s probably sleeping” Jeff said

“It must be nice!” I snapped back.

After finally getting the blood off my hands and arms, I stripped the bed and changed the duvet, while Jeff discarded the bird and mopped the area it had rolled onto. We reset the alarm and went back to bed, it wasn’t even 4:00 am yet and much too early to get up.

I didn’t sleep a wink until my alarm went off at 7:30 am. I got up and did my usual routine, coffee and dogs. I sat at my kitchen table over coffee with Jeff; both of us were pretty silent and didn’t have much to say, feeling disappointed that Officer Kelly couldn’t keep Mr. Owen on the evidence he had. Jeff had his nose buried in the laptop scrolling through footage and looking for Mr. Owen throwing the dead bird in our window. Jeff finally found something, 3:29 am he sees a man approaching the yard; dressed in all black with his hood up and carrying something in both hands. One was a bird, one was a knife. At 3:32 am he gets to our window and with one quick slice and toss – he runs off.

The security alarm log shows the alarm being tripped at 3:32 am and deactivated at 3:34 am.

I told Jeff to print the still frame screen shots of the man approaching our window for Officer Kelly, and to call him right away.

Jeff printed the pictures, you couldn’t see his face and he appeared to be wearing a balaclava to hide his identity. Jeff called Officer Kelly and put the phone on speaker;

“Good Morning, Officer Kelly here” he answered

“Good Morning, it’s Jeff ...”

“Oh hey Jeff, I was just going to give you a call about your neighbour...”

“Yeah, he was here, again, last night!” Jeff cut Officer Kelly off, continuing with “He sliced our screen and threw a dead bird in our room”

“Jeff, now that’s impossible, we’ve had Mr. Owen in custody since yesterday when we picked him up, he never left our station. We’re holding him on trespassing on private property and possible intent. He’s awaiting his lawyer and bail”

Jeff and I looked at each other with complete silence and stunned looks on our faces.

“Are you still there Jeff” Officer Kelly asked

“Yeah ...yes, I’m here. You’ve got the wrong guy Officer Kelly. If Mr. Owen has been in lockup then he’s not the ‘Crow Killer’ because the ‘Crow Killer’ was here last night” Jeff said.

Officer Kelly said he will be coming right away to look at the footage and try to sort this out.

Jeff and I sat silently at the kitchen table staring at the photos and feeling discouraged.

When Officer Kelly arrived we still had the laptop, printed pictures and alarm log on the kitchen table. We showed him what we had and I asked “Who could be doing this and why...”

Officer Kelly looked over everything we had and asked if I could think of any other enemies we had such as ex boyfriends, ex girlfriends, ex coworkers, disgruntled clients or friends. Nothing came to our minds “No, we can’t think of any” we both agreed.

Looking more puzzled than we were, Officer Kelly collected our evidence and apologized that there wasn’t anything more he could do.

“What did Mr. Owen say about having Spotty’s collar” I asked

“He said he didn’t know anything about the collar and if it was in the camp, it wasn’t there from him” said Officer Kelly

“What about the nets” I asked

“He said he uses the nets to fish on the lake, and certainly not to catch and trap birds” replied Officer Kelly.

“OK what about the fact he was trespassing on our private property” I asked

“He admitted that he had been using that camp for forty plus years, he helped Randy Rivers build the camp and he hadn’t thought of it as trespassing, but he promised not to step food on your land again” said Officer Kelly.

The remainder of Jeff’s week-home stay was quiet and without incident, it eventually came to an end and he was packing his bags to go back up north to work. There was friction in the air between us, I made my point clear again that I thought it was time to sell the house and move. Jeff thought I was being over dramatic about the situation. I said “Someone was in the house and tried to kill me!” Jeff replied with “That’s not proven, there’s still a chance you may have just been spooked from the power outage and bumped your head”.

His comment angered me and I stormed out of our bedroom, slamming the door behind me. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight” I yelled, as I stomped down the hallway.

I sat on the couch with my arms and legs crossed feeling annoyed, I was irate enough that I could feel the tops of my ears were hot, like they were on fire.

I turned on my murder mystery TV shows; snuggled up with my dogs and a throw blanket, after finishing a cup of herbal tea and bowl of popcorn.

I heard my dogs growling which woke me from my sleep. As I stirred and opened my eyes, I almost chocked at my sight. There was the ‘Crow Killer’ standing over me while I slept on the couch. Only his eyes were visible from his balaclava, our eyes were piercing through each other’s while he stood over me staring. I took one quick gasp of breath, ready to scream; he quickly put his hand over my mouth and a knife to my throat, which quieted me immediately.

I had so many random thoughts rushing through my head like; how did he get in here without tripping my house alarm? Where is Jeff? Why aren’t my dogs attacking him?

He slowly retracts his hand from my mouth and reaches for the neck of his balaclava to reveal himself. As he slowly pulls up his face mask, I couldn’t believe my eyes; it reveals that it’s Jeff behind the balaclava. Filled with confusion I let out a deafening screech. With one hand on each of my shoulders he began shaking me vigorously!

It was then I woke up to Jeff standing over me shaking me out of my nightmare.

“Are you ok, you’re screaming” Jeff asks.

I quickly realized I had been trapped in a terrifying nightmare. I also remembered how mad I was before I fell asleep and replied with “I’m fine, it was just a bad dream, sometimes that happens when someone has tried to kill you, ya know” as I angrily reposition myself on the couch, making a clear statement that I still wasn’t going to bed.

Jeff got a glass of water in the kitchen and tipped it to me while saying “Ok then, good night – again”.

After some brief thought about how this was our last night together for three weeks I decided I really didn’t want to spend it like this. So I swallowed my anger and went to bed with my husband.

The next morning came quick and before I knew it we were already at the airport. I was sad to see Jeff go, but I was still a little bitter at his aloof lack of concern for my well being and hesitation to believe me that the ‘Crow Killer’ was in our house.

The drive home brought forth so many emotions that I began to cry. I almost didn’t want to go home. This whole living-nightmare had made me so discouraged towards our dream home, and even our marriage. I missed feeling happy and unafraid each day; I wondered if things would ever get back to normal, the way they were supposed to be.

My phone rang while I was driving home, it was Officer Kelly. I rolled my eyes when I seen his numbers come up on my caller ID and thought about not answering it, but I reluctantly did. He said he was just calling to check-in on me, knowing Jeff was leaving, and reminded me that if I needed anything to give him a call. I thanked him.

Chapter 14

It felt frightening being home alone now. I’m not sure if the events were freaking me out, or the new nightmares I had been having. I felt like I was going crazy. Sitting home on my couch with my dogs, alone, I was very edgy. Every time my dogs would move or make a stir I was practically jumping out of my skin. I was compulsively checking windows and doors, even more than before; I had all the curtains drawn and blinds closed, and I felt like a prisoner in my own home. I didn’t want to be alone in the house at all. I tried calling Jeff but there was no answer, I was not surprised because he had no service during his flights.

I decided to call my mother; any conversation was better than the frightening chatter that was taking place in my head. I told her how I was feeling. She listened with empathy and suggested she come down to visit and stay with me for a few days. I almost leaped to my feet in excitement from her suggestion and couldn’t agree quickly enough, saying “What time will you be here, I’ll cook for two tonight”. She could hear the desperation in my voice and told me she’s packing a bag as we speak and she’d leave as soon as she could.

I felt some relief now, I wasn’t going to be alone tonight, and I knew my mother couldn’t do anything to stop the ‘Crow Killer’ but it felt good having the presence of someone around.

My mood lightened, slightly, enough that I opened my curtains and let the sunshine in while I prepped some food for supper.

My mother arrived that evening, just in time for supper and I was happy it was still daylight; which lasted until about 8:00 pm during this time of the year.

I made a nice Italian spaghetti and meatball supper; complete with bruschetta, cesar salad, cheesy garlic bread and a large bottle of red wine to enjoy with our meal.

Afterwards we brought the remainder of the bottle to my back deck and enjoyed the sunset with the dogs. I felt much more relaxed with her presence, or maybe it was the wine.

After completing the remainder of the bottle and it being nightfall, I turned in for the night. I put away the leftovers and made sure the dog’s dishes were full of water and kibble, spilling the bag everywhere. I laughed at my clumsiness and remembered that’s why I didn’t drink often.

Once in bed I fell into an almost immediate deep sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Maybe it was my trouble sleeping lately, but more than likely it was the wine.

It felt like I had only lay down for a second when my 7:30 am alarm clock radio went off. I sprung up, feeling a little alarmed and momentarily confused at my surroundings. My head ached like someone was playing a drum and I couldn’t hit the ‘Off’ button of my radio alarm quick enough. I thought about laying back down, but I knew my dogs would be waiting to be let outside for their morning routine. As I stand in front of the bathroom mirror throwing my hair in a bun, washing my face, and brushing my teeth I don’t hear my dogs stirring. I find that odd because I can usually hear the jingle of their tags on their collars, stirring up as they hear me waking. Then I remembered that my mother is here and she probably has them in her bedroom with her. They are like the grandchildren she never had and spoils them ridiculously.

I walk down the hallway and towards the kitchen and I’m curious to the brisk breeze that hits me. As I turn the corner, I see my front and back doors wide opened, my living room was completely ransacked; pictures taken off the walls, drawers in the bureau opened with personal belongings strewn throughout, curtains and rods taken off the windows and my mirrors and pictures on the floor. I look around, taking in this ghastly sight, I notice across one of my living room walls the words “GET OUT” written in bright red blood; still dripping with remnants of small black feathers stuck to the wording like glue.

I yelled for my mother, as I slowly backed up towards the hall that I had just come from.

“Mom! Wake up” I yelled again, as I began banging on the spare bedroom door. I could hear my dogs stir and my mother reply “Come in”. I opened the door and frantically began telling her about the living room. The dogs rush past me, heading for the front and back doors, while my mother jumps up saying “What do you mean, like somebody broke in, is anything missing” she asked.

I lead her to the living room where she stands in complete awe with the surroundings. She covers her mouth taking in the horrific sight, while I snap pictures with my cell phone.

“Call the police!” she says with urgency. Which I did;

“Officer Kelly here” he answers.

“The ‘Crow Killer’ was here; he ransacked my living room and wrote “Get out” on my living room wall... in blood!” I rushed, telling him in one long run-on sentence.

Officer Kelly said he’d be right over and told me to bring up the camera footage.

My mother sat at the kitchen table with me while I scrolled through the footage from last night camera’s surveillance videos.

“Didn’t you just have some fancy-smancy alarm system installed” she asked.

“I forgot to set it last night before I went to bed” I admitted, with embarrassment “The wine got to my head and I wasn’t thinking about the alarm at all”

My mother stared at me with a blank face saying “And how are you going to explain that to Jeff and the police? You spend a few thousand dollars on an alarm system, and then you don’t even use it...”

“OK mom, enough! I already feel like an idiot” I said, cutting her off.

Officer Kelly arrived and took pictures of my living room. He had a few other officers with him dusting for fingerprints.

I showed him what I had captured on camera, which was the same sight as before. 3:30 am the ‘Crow Killer’ was masked with a balaclava, dressed in all black with his hood up and holding a dead bird as he approached my house.

It was peculiar how he seemed to walk right into my front door.

“Was your front door locked” asked Officer Kelly.

“Yes...maybe...I think so” I said, while gripping my forehead, the drum still beating loudly from wine the night before. “I drank wine last night and going to bed is a little blurry, which is how I forgot to set my house alarm. I wasn’t thinking” I shamefully admitted.

“So I can’t be certain if my door was locked or not. I’m sorry” I said.

“I see” said Officer Kelly.

As the police finished doing their investigation and Officer Kelly finished writing his report he, as usual, told me there’s still nothing they can do as the moment because they don’t have any way to identify this man. As usual I was left feeling disappointed at the outcome.

My mother butted into our conversation saying “There must be something more you can do, road blocks, a surveillance truck, a car sitting outside around the clock, knocking on all the neighbours’ doors”

“We’re doing the best we can; I have a team put together who will be knocking on neighbours doors and questioning people within a five block radius. Other than that, we are a rural station and have limited resources” replied Officer Kelly.

“The best I can do is offer my cell phone number and promise to come as soon as you call” He finished.

My mother shook her head while she walked away mumbling something about “Our tax dollars being hard at work”. I apologized to Officer Kelly and told him she’s just a little traumatized at the moment. He smiled with an understanding grin.

Jeff finally called me back; I had sent him at least twenty text messages that included pictures of the living room.

“Hello” I eagerly answered.

“Why didn’t the house alarm go off” he asked. I thought to myself, not even a “Hello” back?

I sarcastically replied with “I’m fine, thanks for asking”

“Sorry, I’m glad you and your mother are ok. Why didn’t the house alarm go off” Jeff asked again.

“I forgot to set the alarm before I went to bed last night” I said shamefully.

“What, how could you forget” he replied.

“Look Jeff it’s been a long morning already and I’m not in the mood to be scolded all over again, my mother already took care of that” I snapped angrily.

“Fine, I’ll talk to you later” Jeff said and abruptly hung up the phone. I couldn’t believe he was being such an asshole towards me.

My mother must have seen the distraught look on my face and asked me what was wrong. I told her Jeff was being completely unsympathetic and down-right rude to me because I forgot to set the house alarm. She put her arm around my shoulder and suggested I go home with her for a few days to Annapolis “Get out of Hallow Creek and give you some time to clear your head, figure things out” she said as we continued scrubbing the blood off my wall.

I decided that going to Annapolis for a few days with my mother would be a good idea.

I packed a few bags to take with me, the dogs’ dishes, blankets and leashes and loaded it all into my car. My mother was thrilled I had agreed to go to her place for a few days because she revealed she didn’t feel comfortable spending another night in my home. I can understand her sentiments on this, I didn’t even feel comfortable in my own home, quite frankly I was ready to sell the house and move.

I secured the house, triple checking that all the windows and doors were locked; setting the light timers so the house looks occupied and making sure the security system was armed as I exited.

The drive to Annapolis was a little over two hours including Tim Horton’s coffee and doggie pit-stops. Highway 101 was a beautiful scenic route filled with lush farmland and forested landscape.

I tried calling Jeff to let him know my plans of being out of town for a few days, but I kept getting his machine. I called Officer Kelly and he said he thought it was a great idea that I got away for a bit. He also assured me that he’d drive past my house a few times a day to make sure everything looked in-order. I thanked him and told him I’d be in touch when I returned.

Chapter 15

Spending time in Annapolis was quiet and peaceful; it felt good not having to worry about doors or windows being locked, setting alarms, or being woken at 3:30 am to gruesome events. I slept in my mother’s spare room with my dogs at my bedside, they too seemed like they felt less stressed – or maybe it was the extra treats my mother had been feeding them.

I had almost no service on my cell phone and could only get one or two bars, if I was lucky, while standing outside on my mother’s deck. Luckily she had a landline cordless phone I could talk to Jeff on.

We spent our days lounging in her back yard, watching her bird feeders, doing crafts and painting pictures. It felt so nice to live a ‘normal’ life, without fear or anxiety of what was going to happen next. Jeff and I were even talking more, and nicely to each other. It reminded me of how much I missed him and missed having him home.

Lying in bed I wracked my brain trying to think of why and who would be terrorizing us. I stuck to my theory on the ‘Crow Killer’ being Randy, but I didn’t want to share it with Jeff, we had been getting along so well that I knew the stress of the topic would set us back.

Without a single doubt in my mind I was absolutely certain that Randy Rivers had never left the property. He had been staying at that small camp in the woods, living off cans of soup and whatever else he can snare in those nets. He doesn’t want anyone in his house so he’s scaring us into leaving. It all fit together like pieces to a puzzle. I still wondered if Mr. Owen knew about Randy living back there. And I wondered how I would prove this so the police could catch him.

I wondered if the stress of living this nightmare and working so hard to prove this was worth it. It’s almost costing me my sanity and marriage. The only other option would be to pack up and move, and Jeff has made it clear he’s dead against that.

I fell asleep that night weighing out those decisions and wondering what my best course of action was.

I habitually woke at 7:30 am the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs, it certainly was strange not waking to the weather forecast from my radio alarm clock.

I showered and made my way into my mother’s kitchen, there the dogs sat charmingly at her feet, awaiting their bacon.

She handed me a cup of instant coffee, I thought to myself yuck, but I accepted and thanked her graciously. It had been almost a week and I was missing my pod-du-jour’s. I said to my mother that I wondered how Officer Kelly was doing with his investigation and if they were able to ID or catch Randy yet. She suggested I give him a call to check in on things. Using my mother’s house phone I made the long distance call to Officer Kelly;

“Officer Kelly here” he answered

“Good morning Officer Kelly, I’m just calling to check in on things” I said

“I’ve been trying to call you all night!” he replied yelling through the phone loud enough my mother could hear his voice.

“What’s going on” I asked

“There was a fire, as far as we can see the inside is ok, but the siding has been burnt and we suspect arson. I just happened to be driving by for a nightly check when I seen the smoke” he said

“I’ll head back into town as soon as possible, I’ll call you when I get there” I told him.

After hanging up the phone I just stood there for a moment, my mother and I both silent. She reached her hand and placed it on my shoulder sympathetically. I told her I wasn’t sure what disappointed me more, having to go home to the craziness, or having to report more craziness to Jeff.

“I could come and stay with you for a few more days until Jeff gets home” she said

“No, I know you don’t feel comfortable there, and at this point I would feel it’s actually too dangerous for you to be there, but thank you for the offer” I replied

“Insist on around-the-clock police surveillance and catch this guy!” she scolded

I nodded my head, agreeing with her as I reluctantly gulped the last mouthful of my cup of instant coffee.

The drive back to Hallow’s Creek was sombre, even my dogs looked disappointed – more than likely because they knew their morning bacon breakfasts were over. A little over an hour into our drive I finally hit a full service area on my cell phone which displayed full bars. I took a deep breath, knowing I needed to call Jeff and report what had happened.

“Hello darling” Jeff answered

“Hi” I replied in a disappointed tone

“What’s the matter” he asked

“I have to tell you something...” I said

“Ok” Jeff’s short tone sounded like he already knew it had something to do with the ‘Crow Killer’

“I got a phone call from Officer Kelly and someone tried to light our house on fire” I said

“What!” Jeff exclaimed

“Did he catch him? Did we get him on camera? His face?” Jeff quickly questioned

“I don’t know, I’m driving back home now and I’ll find out the answer to all those questions” I said.

“I love you and be safe” Jeff said before hanging up.

I was actually surprised at his concern, he had been so aloof towards the subject for the last few weeks, and it was nice to feel on the same page with our concerns again.

I was terrified at what events awaited me at home. The ‘Crow Killer’ was obviously getting extremely severe with his intimidation tactics and I was trying my hardest to keep my nerve up; remembering that fearing him would be like letting him win.

When I returned home, Officer Kelly was already in my driveway awaiting my arrival. He helped me with my bags from the trunk and made small talk by asking how my mother was. I visually assessed the damage from the fire, which luckily was minimal and seemed to just affect the outside siding.

When I entered my home I noticed a slight scent of smoke, but not much more than when I had the fireplace lit. I was thankful nothing was damaged on the inside and knew Jeff could repair the outside siding when he got home, which will now be at the utmost top of the honey-do list.

“Can you bring up the footage from last night so we can try to ID this guy” Officer Kelly said anxiously.

I dropped everything and brought out my laptop to load up the camera footage from the previous night. It revealed that at 3:33 am there was the ‘Crow Killer’ throwing, what appeared to be gasoline, on the siding of the house and then lighting it on fire. Again, he was dressed in all black with his hood up and a balaclava on his face. Officer Kelly seemed agitated at the fact it offered no solid evidence to ID the guy.

“Officer Kelly, I’d like around the clock surveillance for my home, I’m feeling more threatened than ever and I honestly feel like my life is at risk” I said

“I’m not leaving, I’m staying here and I am catching this guy for you” Officer Kelly assured me

I smiled with a sigh of relief, knowing I’d have around the clock police protection.

I called Jeff and gave him the good news, he was happy too, saying it will be nice to finally put this issue to rest.

I began unpacking my bags and Officer Kelly began putting on his shoes.

“Where are you going” I asked

“Back to the car; don’t worry, I’ll be on a steak-out around the clock in front of your house, I won’t leave” he said as he began slipping into his shoes

“That can’t be very comfortable, in your car, why don’t you just stay in here. I can make up the spare room for you” I said

“That’s kind of you to offer, but I’d rather not be locked in a back bedroom in case something goes down” he said

“I’ll make up the couch for you, rather than the spare bedroom, you’ll be within view of each door and main windows, that way you can be more abreast of the situation – should one occur” I insisted.

“Well, if you insist, alright then” Officer Kelly replied as he began taking his shoes off, again.

It made me feel much safer and secure knowing a police officer was in my house, quite honestly I knew it would be the only way I’d get any sleep at all.

The first night was quiet; no dead birds, no bumps in the night, no fires, nothing and I woke to my regular 7:30 am radio alarm “Sunny and a high of twenty eight degrees Celsius” I smiled at the thought of it being the first pool-day of the season, and even better, I had a police officer here so I didn’t have to worry about anything lurking over my shoulder.

I loaded my pod-du-jour and clipped the dogs out to the back lanyards feeling positivity towards my day, finally, a feeling I had missed.

I stirred my cinnamon spice supreme quietly, not wanting to wake Officer Kelly with the clinking of the spoon in my mug.

“You don’t have to be quiet on account of me” Officer Kelly said as he sat on the edge of my couch and began stretching his arms

“How did you sleep” I asked

“More comfortable than in a car seat” he replied and we both shared a chuckle.

“Coffee” I asked

“Thanks, black” he replied. I wondered if he was just trying to keep it simple or if he really drank regular black. So I asked;

“Are you sure? I have lots of different coffee flavours. Milk, cream, sugar and sweeteners”

“I’m a simple kind of fella, just plain ol’ black brew for me” he replied

“Ok” I said as I handed him his boring cup of regular black brew

“I’d like to go back to the camp and do a little more investigating. See if I can come across any other clues” Officer Kelly said as he sat down to join me at my kitchen table

“I just know its Randy Rivers. He never left the property. He lives back at that camp and he doesn’t want anybody living in this house. He’s doing scare-tactic to try to get us out of here. And quite frankly, Officer Kelly, Its working” I said, as he shook his head in agreement

“I presume you’re right. And, please, call me Joe” he said.

Officer Kelly... er... Joe, made himself busy making rounds around the perimeter of the property-line that day. Looking thoroughly around the garden, or should I say the ‘Crow Killer’s’ burial ground, he looked around the shed and near the opening of brush that lead into the woods.

I’m not too sure what he was looking for, and I’m not too sure he knew what he was looking for either, but he sure made himself busy.

I lounged on the poolside deck with my dogs, tanning and taking intermittent dips in the pool to cool off. Joe joined me on the deck and asked if I’d like to go back to the camp with him tomorrow, when the sun isn’t so hot. I agreed, a little reluctantly, but I would rather be with him than left alone at my house. And he agreed he’d rather that I didn’t stay alone.

I barbecued chicken legs, baked potatoes and made a fresh garden salad for supper. I asked Joe to join me; I would’ve felt awkward eating at the kitchen table in front of him, while he sat on the couch eating his tuna sandwich he had packed. He was pleased to accept my invitation and joined me. Over supper I chatted with Joe and tried to get to know him a little better, personally;

“Do you have kids” I asked

“No” he replied

“Married” I asked

“No” he replied

“Girlfriend” I asked

“No” he replied

“Gay” I asked and quickly followed with “Not that there would be anything wrong with that”

“No” Joe laughed, and quickly followed with “I agree, but no”. Joe wiped his mouth with a napkin and told me “My wife disappeared about ten years ago. We held a burial for her a few years back, assuming that she had perished”.

I almost choked on my chicken, “I am so very sorry to hear that, Joe” I said, as I reached across the table and held his arm sympathetically.

“Thank you, it took me a while to get over it, truth be known, I’m still not over it. But keeping myself busy at work helps and keeps my mind busy” he said.

“Well thank you for being here, it means the world to me” I said with a sincere smile. I didn’t probe for any more conversation, and I was appreciative he shared as much as he had.

After dinner I tidied the kitchen, put away left-overs, topped up the dogs dishes and headed for bed to call Jeff;

“Hello” he answered

“Hey, how was your day” I said

“You sound happy, did we win the lotto and you’re calling to tell me” he asked

“No, it’s just nice having Joe here, I can sleep easy and not worry at night” I said

“Joe” Jeff asked, sounding like he had an eyebrow raised

“Yes, Officer Kelly. His name is Joe. He’s been sleeping on the couch” I said

“Yes, Joe, better be” Jeff replied apprehensively

“I’ll be home this weekend and Joe can beat it” he said in a jealous tone

“Has it been three weeks already” I asked, feeling shocked at how time has flown by.

I could tell Jeff was less than thrilled that I had another man staying with me, but we both knew it was for the safety of me, the dogs and the house. We said our good nights and I went to sleep.

3:30 am I abruptly woke to my house alarm whaling. I jumped up into my slippers and threw on my housecoat. I almost slid down my hall as I was running so quickly towards my couch where Joe slept. By now my dogs are barking and howling over the piercing noise of my alarm.

Joe was already up and on his feet, making his way towards the front curtains and peering out of them. I quickly stood at the front door key pad “Joe! The security system display panel says BASEMENT” I yelled over the piercing alarm and barking, while I nervously keyed in 5266 as quick as I could to quiet the alarm. Joe ran downstairs and my dogs followed behind him. I sternly called Princess and Spotty back to my side, not wanting them to get hurt in any sort of cross-fire, preparing for worst case scenarios in my head. I waited at the top of the stairs feeling futile, cautiously listening for Joe. While I stood almost on the edge of the top stair, leaning downwards on the railing, I wondered if I should continue downwards or stay-put.

“Joe” I call out, in a raised whisper.

“Joe” I repeat again, now feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

All of a sudden in one quick rush Joe surfaces at the bottom of the darkened stairway, running upwards so fast that it knocks my collection of Paint-Night paintings from the wall.

I back up and clear the way as he rushes to the back door and outside to the back yard, still barefooted in shorts and a T-Shirt. I witness Joe bolting across the yard and towards the opening of the brush at the edge of the woods, he’s clearly chasing the ‘Crow Killer’ and I am momentarily enthusiastic with excitement that this menace will soon be caught. Joe disappears into the woods while I stand on my back deck peering out to the darkened woods. I stand idle waiting for Joe to resurface. Seconds... minutes go by, no sign of Joe. I get an eerie feeling up the back of my neck now, wondering what’s going on beyond the edge of the woods, fearing the worst. I tighten my housecoat ties and begin to notice every crinkle and snap the desolate woods has to offer, my hearing senses now heightened, awaiting hearing Joe’s return. I back up into my house, closing my backdoor and with one big breath I turn the deadbolt locked. As I stare out the back door’s window, I wonder if I should reset the alarm, or maybe call 911. With all the excitement I hadn’t even thought about calling the police, after all, the police (Joe) were here. I stood at the backdoor staring for a while longer, rationalizing in my head what I should do. There was still no sign of Joe. With my dogs by my side I made my way back to my bedroom where my cell phone was. As I sat on the edge of my bed contemplating dialling 911, I was unexpectedly panicked by a banging at the back door. I quickly ran to the back door, first looking out the door-window to confirm my assumption of it being Joe. I couldn’t unlock the dead bolt quick enough to let him in. He was winded and had blood on his feet that left footprints on my white ceramic tile.

“Come in, sit down, are you hurt anywhere else” I said with concern as I helped him to the couch

“I couldn’t catch him, I couldn’t go any further into the woods” Joe said with disappointment

“That’s ok, the main concern is that you’re ok” I said while wiping up blood with some Kleenex

“He was trying to get in your basement window, that’s what tripped your house alarm. When he seen me at the window is when he took off towards the back woods” Joe said

“Was he wearing his mask, or did you get to see his face” I asked

“He was in all black, hood up and that face mask on” Joe said in disappointedly

I brought Joe some paper towel, bandages and peroxide saying goodnight again.

I returned to bed knowing I wouldn’t get any sleep.

Chapter 16

The next day Joe and I headed out to the camp in the woods, Joe waited anxiously all day for the sun to set low enough that trekking through the woods wouldn’t feel like an inferno. It was around 4:00 pm and there was still plenty of sunlight hours left to the day. I packed a small backpack with a few bottles of water, bug repellent, my cell phone and a flashlight - just in case.

I topped up the dogs dishes, set the house alarm, tightened my sneaker laces and we headed for the brush opening.

We fought our way through the freshly grown foliage, pushing back the overgrown brush and tree limbs, which slowed our travel down quite a bit. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, we reached the lake; I knew this was an almost half-way point, where we took a short break and drank some water that I had packed. We could see the small derelict camp on the other side of the water and after half a bottle each we continued on our course around the lake. We entered the small shack; again we found empty cans of soup and personal belongings strewn throughout. The camp looked like it hadn’t changed since the last time we entered and there were stacks of papers still sticking out of the bedside drawers – just like before. This time Joe grabbed a medium sized clear plastic bag from his back pocket, shaking it open, he began putting everything inside the bag.

“Put any paperwork or personal items you can find in this bag” he told me

“We will take it all and sort it out later” he continued

“What about the can opener and travel mug. Maybe you can get finger prints” I asked

“Yep, everything in the bag” said Joe

It was clear to me he wasn’t leaving any stone left unturned, so to speak. This made me happy because I just wanted this nightmare to be over.

After filling the bag with as many belongings as I could, I tied a loose knot in the top and joined Joe who was now walking around the small clearing of property outside.

We explored around, not veering too far away from the camp, which was our only designated landmark to not get lost.

We came across a beautiful babbling brook that obviously led into the lake. I thought what a beautiful piece of property this is and how I couldn’t wait until this investigation was over and the ‘Crow Killer’ had been caught, so Jeff and I could enjoy our land.

I started daydreaming about Jeff tearing down the one-room camp and building a beautiful A-Framed cottage facing the lake, maybe some huge windows over-looking the water, an open concept loft style bedroom and a few skylights in the ceiling. My imagination took off and I was so consumed in my cottage daydream as I walked along, following the path of the stream.

I wasn’t watching my footing and I tripped, falling and hitting my chin on the ground. I let out an “Oh!” on my way down, loud enough that Joe came rushing over, but not quick enough to catch my fall. As I stood back up scanning the ground area to see what had tripped me, is when I seen the remains of a humerus bone.

“Is that human” I yelled at Joe, feeling completely in shock!

Joe grabbed a long stick and started shifting the earth around. As he began uncovering the dirt, leaves, and over-grown grass he revealed a small flat stone with the initials R.R. on it.

I looked down at the human arm bone remains, feeling quite disturbed; I had never seen human bones in real life before.

I looked at Joe puzzled for a moment, as he returned that same look back towards me; we silently stared at the grave-marker rock that said R.R.

“If this is Randy Rivers and he is dead, then who is the ‘Crow Killer’?” I asked out loud, feeling more puzzled than ever, while Joe continues shifting the stick around, revealing more bones

“I have no idea. But we’ve gotta get back so I can call this in and have these bones collected”

We returned to the camp for one last look-around, making sure we gathered as much as we could in that clear plastic bag, it seemed as though we had everything.

The walk back was in silence as we both felt baffled. It was discouraging that my theory was wrong; it couldn’t be Randy Rivers terrorizing me and my house.

“Who could it be” I asked out loud, breaking our almost hour-long silent streak

“And if they killed Randy, why would they make him a grave” Joe added to my questioning

Nothing made sense and it wasn’t adding-up in our minds; leaving us bewildered as he fought our way back through the brush.

Once at home Joe immediately called in our findings to the police station.

He said they were sending out a crime scene investigation team to exhume the remainder of the bones. I told him to let them know to wear good hiking shoes because they won’t be able to drive to the scene “You may need a chopper” I heard him say with his Newfoundland accent, while he smiled at my suggestion. Over the next few days there were police officers everywhere making tracks back-and-forth through my property and a few times I could hear a helicopter off in the distance.

I picked Jeff up at the airport and filled him in on all the new events that had happened, he was just as puzzled as we were. I asked if he still wanted to tell Joe to “Beat it” and he laughed, saying “Of course not”.

When we arrived home, Jeff unpacked and got settled, the three of us sat around the coffee table in my living room and began picking through the belongings and paperwork that Joe and I collected from the camp. Most of the items from the bag seemed pretty useless; Jeff found old newspapers from a few years ago, a pencil sketching of a black crow signed at the bottom “Randy ‘98”, meanwhile Joe was busy separating items that he thought should be dusted for fingerprints, and I had came across a few more old photographs. I noticed one picture in particular, which was a black and white photo of Mr. and Mrs. Rivers. I thought to myself how different the man looked from the previous photo we had found that said “Randy” on the back. I swiped open my cell phone photos to compare the two photos. They were definitely not the same man.

“Jeff, Joe, look at this” I said, while holding the Rivers’ photo and my cell phone picture of the other photo together, across the coffee table, for them to see.

“Who is this other guy” I asked

The three of us began rummaging through the rest of the piles of paper thrown into the bag and looking for more photos. Jeff came across another one; it was a picture of the three of them together. He turned it over, but there was nothing written on the back, offering no clues.

“We should ask Mr. Owen if he knows who the man is” I said eagerly

“We’ve already had him falsely arrested, I’m sure he’d love to see us show up at his door, again. Especially questioning him” Jeff scolded me

“Hold on now, that’s not such a bad idea, but I’ll go and ask him – he can’t get mad at me, it’s my job. I’ll head up and talk to him in the morning” said Joe

Jeff and I both agreed that was a good idea and we decided to call it a night and go to bed, leaving the rest of the bag to pick through for tomorrow.

The next morning I woke to my usual 7:30 am radio alarm clock. I loaded my pod-du-jour and clipped the dogs outside. I made Jeff and Joe their boring cups of coffee. Joe was already up and getting ready, anxious to question Mr. Owen about the man in the photograph. And after coffee he headed up the road.

Jeff and I sat back down at the coffee table and continued going through the bag from the camp, while we anxiously awaited Joe’s return, hoping he had useful information.

Jeff found some more sketchings of crows. We both agreed that whoever had been staying back there has a strange obsession with the Corvidae species; there were so many different drawings. I wondered how someone so fascinated with these birds, to draw them so intricately, could so easily kill them. We both agreed how bizarre it was.

I continued rummaging through the papers; I came across a tri-folded and elasticized bundle, which fell from the pile. I unfolded it, reading “The Last Will and Testament of Mr. & Mrs. Rivers” which went on to say that everything they owned would be left to each other, and thereafter left to Mrs. Rivers’ brother, who was also named Randy. Randy Crowe.

I said “Jeff! I think I know who the other man is...” and just then Joe came rushing through the front door. He didn’t even take his shoes off because he was so anxious to tell us about his conversation with Mr. Owen;

“She had a brother. Randy Crowe” he rushed in saying, explaining with his hands waving;

“He was mentally unstable and they had him committed to the psychiatric hospital, where he lived most of his life” Joe eagerly continued sounding winded with excitement

“Wait. Why did Mr. Owen say they had no family” I asked

“That’s where it gets weird! Mr. Owen admitted that their brother Randy escaped from the hospital and they allowed him to hide-out in the camp”,

“Randy (Rivers) revealed to Mr. Owen that he thought Mrs. Rivers’ brother Randy Crowe had something to do with her hanging and it wasn’t long after that Mr. Rivers went missing too” Jeff and I listened attentively while Joe continued explaining;

“Mr. Owen said that he didn’t want to offer this information because he didn’t want to get in any sort of trouble for knowing where the escaped brother, Randy Crowe, was hiding. And also he didn’t want to know if his best friend had been murdered, it bothered him too much, so he would rather say his best friend Randy simply disappeared” Joe finished

“Wow! So that’s who the letters were from. And the ‘Crow Killer’ is a psychiatric patient who’s been living in our back woods, and maybe a murderer too” I said

“Yes, that’s exactly the case” said Joe

“Now that we know who we’re dealing with, we have to figure out how to catch him” Jeff said

“With both of you guys here now, I’m sure it shouldn’t be a problem” I replied

Chapter 17

We all put our heads together that day, trying to arrange a plan to catch the ‘Crow Killer’. I thought about how mentally unstable Mr. Crowe must be, mentally recapping all of his actions, and now realizing how seriously disturbed he is.

Jeff suggested around 3:00 am he hides in the back yard woods-edge and wait for him tonight, rushing him from behind. Joe commented that we have no grantee he will even show up tonight, and a surprise attack at the camp would be better. I agreed with Joe “I think it would be better to keep the drama away from the house – and the dogs” I said, still playing out worst case cross-fire scenarios in my head.

As I stood at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables I glanced up, and then glanced again, there he was standing at the edge of my yard, dressed in all black. He was just standing there staring at my house, his head slightly tipped to one side and still as a statue – staring.

“Jeff! Joe! Come quick” I yelled, as I turned my head only momentarily, and they both came rushing.

“There he is!” I exclaimed while the three of us leaned over the counter to get a clearer look out the kitchen window.

“There’s nobody there” Jeff said

“I don’t see anything either” Joe said, while straightening his glasses and squinting his eyes

“He was just right there! Standing at the edge of the woods and staring at the house” I said

“We believe you, but he’s not there now, maybe he heard you yell and retreated in the woods” said Jeff

“This might be a clear indication he’s going to make a move tonight” Joe commented

I wasn’t sure if it was an indication or not, but now I knew why I had those strange feelings of being watched over the last year, because I was being watched. I tried my best to shake off the eerie feeling that was spiking the hairs on the back of my neck and continued cooking supper, feeling extra thankful for Jeff and Joe’s presence.

After supper Joe revealed he plotted a plan to catch the ‘Crow Killer’;

“I’m going to set my watch alarm for 2:30 am, I’ll sneak out and start hiking through the woods towards the camp, taking a route off the beaten path. Typically he shows up at 3:30 am. Jeff, I want you to set your alarm for 3:00 am and be awake and ready to scare him off when he approaches. That’s going to drive him right back into the woods and into my custody” said Joe

“Do you think it will work and what if something goes wrong” I asked

“This guy is mentally deranged and from his actions, he’s not smart, balsie – but not smart. I can’t see why it wouldn’t work” Jeff said, while Joe shook his head totally agreeing.

“What if somebody gets hurt” I asked

“Call 911, but if everything goes as planned, don’t call 911 until I have him in custody. If the cop cars, sirens and lights show up it will just scare him deeper into the woods and then we will never catch him” said Joe sternly

“Ok” Jeff and I both agreed

I called my mother and let her know all of the new facts we discovered and tonight’s plan;

“Well holy shit!” she said, and I could hear the amazement in her voice

“And what does Jeff say for not believing you now” she asked in the cattiest tone she could vocalize. I laughed and reminded her that nobody wins when we play a blame-game and I am just happy this whole ordeal is going to be put to rest.

“You paid too much for that damn house, the realtor should’ve told you about its history, she seen you guys coming” she scolded as I heard her take a drag on her cigarette

We finished our conversation by making some plans for a visit soon, a celebratory supper in preparation for the ‘Crow Killer’ saga to be over. I told my mother I loved her and then hung up the phone to get ready for bed.

I lay in bed for what seemed like hours, not being able to get to sleep. I wasn’t sure if it was Jeff’s snoring that was keeping me awake or that I kept replaying the possible events that could occur tonight with Joe’s plan. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about the whole thing, but I shook it off thinking I was probably just being paranoid.

I finally fell asleep for what felt like only a few minutes when I was abruptly woken to the sound of shattering glass in the living room.

I jump up, clothes-lining my arm across to Jeff’s side of the bed, and hear my dogs ferociously barking. The clock displayed 2:52 am, I quickly thought to myself how weird that it’s not 3:33 am, as Jeff and I jump out of bed and rush to the living room. We weren’t even half way down the hall when we could hear and smell flames and smoke. I yell for Princess and Spotty and was happy to hear the jingle of their tags while Jeff runs to the kitchen retrieving the fire extinguisher from under the sink. We see an empty couch indicating Joe was already in the woods ready to execute his plan. I open the front and back doors to let out the smoke from the malatov cocktail that had been thrown through our living room window and I catch a glimpse of the ‘Crow Killer’ running towards the side of the house.

“Jeff! There he is!” I scream as I grab the fire extinguisher from Jeff and take over extinguishing the small fire in my living room. Jeff opens the back door and runs out into the night after the ‘Crow Killer’ and my dogs both chase behind him.

I continue extinguishing the fire and use a tea towel to begin collecting the charred pieces of glass. A few moments later, and being certain there was no hot coals left in my living room, I slip on my shoes to see where Jeff and the dogs went.

I stand on the back deck peering into the darkness of the still back yard. “Jeff!” I call out in a questioned whisper. “Spotty, Princess, Come!” I say a little louder.

I could feel my heart beating in my throat now as I nervously look around the perimeter of the woods. “Jeff!” I call out a little louder, followed with “Princess, Spotty, Come!” as my voice gets sterner. I didn’t see or hear any sign of movement. I backed my way into the house, wondering if I should close the door and lock it, but that made no sense now because I had a missing living room window that was an easy entry point.

As I stand on my back deck contemplating my next move I hear “Help!” a man’s voice yell in from in the woods, I couldn’t decipher if it was Jeff or Joe, it was too far in the distance.

Going into the woods right now went against every piece of sound logic in my brain. My brain was telling me to go in my bedroom, lock the door and call 911. But my heart was reminding me that everything I love was in those woods and may need my help. Also remembering Joe telling me not to call 911 because it could interfere with his capture plan. I was torn on what to do, but I knew standing idle would be useless. With one deep breath of courage I decided to lace my sneakers, grab my cell phone from my bedside table and head for the woods. As I passed the kitchen, heading to the back door, I stopped and slid a big kitchen knife out of the butcher block to take with me. Part of me felt that I had it with this ‘Crow Killer’ and was ready to capture him myself, while the other part of me was scared shitless with my hands shaking as I began into the woods. “Jeff, Spotty, Princess” I screamed out as loud as I could as I pushed my way through the brush, with no response. As I cautiously made my way through the woods I heard a big CRACKING sound from behind me, which made me stop dead in my tracks. I held my cell phone up shining the flashlight towards where the sound had came from. “Jeff” I questioned, whispering loudly. No reply. I began walking again, concluding it must have been an animal, or maybe just my frightened imagination. I arrive at the lake, feeling courageous that I had made it this far, I kneel down by a large rock taking a quick breather. I already felt like I was hyperventilating, I think it was out of fear more so than the physical exertion. I notice the camp illuminated, and for a quick moment I’m relieved thinking Joe must have the guy in custody.

“Ahhh!, No!” I hear Jeff’s voice echo across the lake, followed by my dog barking. I could hear the slamming of wood or some type of inaudible crashing noise. I knew it didn’t sound good. I continued on around the lake, holding on to the hope in my mind that the noises I heard were Jeff and Joe apprehending the ‘Crow Killer’. As I quietly approached the camp, following the babbling brook’s shadows of the trees; I tripped over something on the brook’s bank, falling and landing right beside Joe’s body lying on the ground. My eyes widened at this sight and my first instinct was to scream; but I resisted the urge and held both hands over my mouth – dropping my phone. After taking a moment to gather myself, I felt Joe’s neck for a pulse, I was happy to feel a thump under my two fingers, but his pulse was faint and I knew he needed help. I leaned down the bank’s edge to retrieve my phone, but it was long gone and probably severely water damaged anyways. I checked Joe’s pockets for a phone but couldn’t find one. I got up soaking wet and covered in Joe’s blood and moved closer to the camp. I cautiously raised my head just enough to see inside one of the windows; there was the ‘Crow Killer’ laughing hysterically and holding a knife while he was fashioning a noose from a pile of rope; he had Jeff’s mouth duck-taped and his limbs tied to a chair, one of Jeff’s legs were severely severed and bleeding badly, my dogs trapped inside with them. I ducked down not wanting to alert him or my dogs, wondering what to do next. I sat there on the ground leaning against the camp for a moment, feeling completely overwhelmed at the situation I was trapped in, and regretting not calling 911 back at the house when I had the chance.

I glanced over at the fire pit with matches and gas jugs and remembered Joe and I had left our empty water bottles sitting at the front step the other day. With one big burst of fury filled courage I decided to give Mr. Randy Crowe a taste of his own medicine. Feeling thankful that I’m an environmentalist who only uses refillable glass bottles; I grabbed the two bottles, gas, box of matches, and tore a shred off the bottom of my T-Shirt. I backed up waiting for the right moment to throw. When I finally seen the ‘Crow Killer’ in view in front of the window I struck a match, lighting the Molotov on fire and quickly throwing it through the window. It ignited him and the floor and instantly the camp filled with smoke. The ‘Crow Killer’ came stumbling through the front door engulfed in flames and wrestling with his clothing trying to extinguish himself. I ran into the camp and used my kitchen knife to cut Jeff free, he and the dogs were very happy to see me. I asked if he had his cell phone, he did in his back pocket that he was previously unable to reach, and I dialled 911. We could see the ‘Crow Killer’ lying lifeless outside, Jeff grabbed the rope, limping towards him and began tying him up.

With a bit of curiosity I wondered if I should unmask him, thinking I didn’t want his face to be a mystery that would haunt me forever. With what nerve I had left, I slowly began lifting the burnt balaclava off his face; he was an older man, aged with wrinkles and curiously clean shaven. He had a sinister grin exposing what teeth he had left and they were brown and yellowed. The strangest thing was he had no colour to his eyes, his irises were black and you couldn’t decipher where his pupils ended or began. I instantly regretted seeing his face now, knowing those Crow black eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life. I turned and walked away in disgust.

Jeff, I and the dog got into the row boat to make our way home. I figured paddling half way would make it easier on Jeff’s injured leg. As we rowed across the lake exhausted, soaking wet, covered in blood and traumatized; we put our arms around each other in victory, smiling as we could see the blue and red police lights flashing over the woods of Hallow’s Creek to Joe’s rescue and finally ending our living nightmare.