City of the Lost (Casey Duncan #1)(58)

There are a few moments of silence after that, and it is awkward now. Finally, he rises and takes his empty mug into the kitchen. I follow a moment later to see him, not preparing to leave, but pouring another half cup. He takes it to the window and looks out.

I’ve had enough coffee, but I join him in gazing into the night, and the silence softens until he says, “You’ve got a fox.”

I look toward the carving Brent gave me, where it sits on my table.

“No,” he says. “A real one.”

He motions me to the window and reaches back to extinguish the lantern. Moonlight streams in. He points, and it takes me a minute, but slowly I make out the shape of a canine the size of a spaniel, half emerged from a fallen log. Then it steps out.

“That’d be the den,” he says. “It’s a red fox.”

I squint against the glass. “Doesn’t look very red to me.”

“It’s a cross fox. Which is a variant of a red. The colouring is dark red and you’ll still see the white-tipped tail, but it has a black line down its back and one over its shoulders.”

“Hence the name.”

He nods. “They’re rarer than the traditional colouring, but not as rare as the silver variant. We’ve got one of those in the area.”

“If you spot it on a ride, can you point it out?”

“Course.”

“Thanks. I’d like to see that. Or any wildlife, really. Are there books? When I popped in the library, it seemed mostly fiction.”

“I have books.”

“Any chance of borrowing one?”

He nods. It’s a laconic nod, but the glitter in his eyes says he’s pleased.

“Do I need to worry about the fox being there?” I ask, mostly to keep the conversation going.

“Nah. Only a rabid one is a threat. I’ll tell you how to spot rabid animals, but they’re extremely rare, and we have the antidote. As for the fox, just keep your garbage covered. That’s a general rule, though. Raccoons and bears are the real troublemakers there. Occasionally, foxes will be bolder than other animals. It might let you get closer than you expect. Or it might sit and watch you, but that’s only a problem if it approaches you or tries to attack.”

“Because that suggests rabies.”

“Yep. And don’t feed it. It’s a wild animal. Let it stay wild. You’ll only do more harm than good otherwise, as much as you might think you’re helping.”

He’s staring into the forest again, his expression tight. After a moment, he shakes it off and clears his throat. “Anyway, the fox shouldn’t be a problem, so you can leave it be. The only thing I’ll warn you about is that if it’s a vixen—a female—and you’re here in mating season, her call will probably scare the crap out of you. Every year I get some panicked new resident pounding on my door in the middle of the night, shouting about the woman being murdered in the forest.”

“I’ll consider myself warned.”

He steps back from the window. Then he stops and peers up.

“Are those your blankets on the balcony?” he says. “Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping outside.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

He gives me a look.

I shrug. “It’s a little weird, I know. Maybe it’s the fresh air or the quiet, but I slept so well that first night that I kept doing it.”

“Just don’t ask me to drag your bed out there.”

“It’s too big. I tried taking out the mattress, but that won’t fit through the door, either.”

He looks to see if I’m kidding, realizes I’m not, and shakes his head.

“It’s safe, though, right?” I say. “We ruled out flying monkeys?”

“Yes, but we have another primate who can climb out there.”

“Oh.” I step from the window. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea, then.”

“Nah, it’s safe. The hostiles don’t come this close, and even if they did, no one can see you up there. Just … I know you don’t like sleeping with your gun, but I’m going to ask you to have it there. Put it out of reach nearby.”

“I will.”

He sets his empty mug in the sink and heads for the door. I follow to lock it behind him. In the front hall, he stops and says, “What we talked about. With Irene and … well, pretty much everything related to this case. That’s between us.”

“I know.”

“I mean it. I’m not saying I trust you more than other people. I don’t.” He looks over at me. “I’m sure it’s rude to say that outright, but you know it’s the truth. Trust takes a helluva long time to build out here, and ours is situational.”

“Because I’m the detective on the case and you’re not going to solve it by withholding information I need. I understand that.”

“Good. And of the people I do trust in this town, Beth’s near the top of the list. But we share case details with her on a need-to-know basis. For her own good and her own safety. That goes for Will, too.”

“Will?”

“Yeah. He’s the best damn deputy this town has ever had, and on that short list of people I trust, he’s at the top. But Will likes to talk, as you may have noticed. He goes out and has a few drinks and sometimes it’s one too many, and then he does shit he regrets in the morning.”