Moonlit Novella

Chapter Ten

The break room coffee tasted burnt, but Ivy didn’t mind. She held the paper cup between her hands, using it more for warmth than anything else. She stared at the monitor in front of her, the case log on Carr open.

She took a slow sip, looking over what she had already recorded:

Case File: Nathaniel Carr – Missing Person

Filed by: Ivy Greer (Investigator)

Date: October 7

Summary: Nathaniel Carr, age 34. Historian. Resided in apartment above Briar & Vine Books on Lowe Street. Reported missing 48 hours prior.

Then, she started typing the notes she had jotted down earlier at Carr’s apartment:

Observations from Residence:

• Entry secure. No forced access.
• Apartment showed signs of escalating paranoia: religious objects scattered haphazardly throughout space.
• Prayer book found on nightstand containing erratic handwritten notes. Final entry read: “If I go missing, it was real.”
• Mirror located in hallway closet, concealed beneath a white sheet.
• No signs of physical struggle.

Noted Witness Input:

• Neighbor stated Carr had become fearful in recent weeks.
• Seemed to become more religious in the last few weeks.
• Avoided leaving the apartment after dark.
• Claimed to hear voices from the trees.
• Mentioned “seeing things in the glass.”

Additional Note:

• Victim’s wallet and broken cross necklace recovered behind the General Store near blood traces. May indicate location of abduction.

She hesitated. Then added:

• Subject appeared to be preparing for something. Not hiding from the world, but protecting himself from it.

Ivy sat back, quickly scanning back over the words on the screen. She tapped her fingers lightly against her cup, replaying their walkthrough in her mind, looking for anything she might have missed.

A soft knock against the cubicle wall pulled her attention up.

Mercer stood there, arms crossed over his chest. A slim folder was poking out from beneath one arm.

“You finish?”

“Just about,” she said, taking one last sip and saving her notes. “Didn’t want to leave anything out.”

Mercer nodded once. “Come on. Let’s go over what we’ve got.”

---

Mercer dragged two fingers along another line in the photocopy of the prayer book, his brow furrowing.

“They follow him.”

The words were smeared near the edge of the page, more rushed than the words before it.

Ivy leaned forward, her voice low. “Who’s ‘they’?”

Mercer didn’t answer right away. He stared at the page like it was a piece of a puzzle he’d seen before but couldn’t quite place.

“Is there any history of cult activity around here?” she asked. “Anything even close?”

He let out a breath, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “There have been a few things. Nothing solid. No arrests. Just… strange stuff.”

“Like?”

“Graffiti. Symbols carved into trees or barns. Some of it looked occult-like, but I figured it was just teenagers screwing around.”

“And now?”

Mercer’s eyes flicked up to hers. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

Ivy didn’t speak right away. She let the silence stretch between them.

“There was something big a few years back,” he said. “Three cats found killed. But, not just killed. They were gutted… and posed. Lined up in a triangle right outside the chapel’s doorstep.” His mouth twisted in distaste.

Ivy’s stomach turned at the thought.

“Town chalked it up to one sick individual. Maybe it was. But there were symbols drawn near each one. Circles. Patterns in ash.”

Ivy looked down at the notes again. At the scrawled line.

They follow him.

She glanced back up at him. “I want to check out that bookstore. Maybe we can find more answers there. See where Carr worked.”

Mercer gave a single nod, then pushed back from the desk.

“I’ll drive.”

---

The cruiser slowed to a stop at the curb, rain misting gently across the windshield.

Ivy leaned forward, peering up at the old brick building. A sign above the shop’s entrance read: Briar & Vine Books, its windows fogged slightly from the warmth inside.

Mercer glanced at her, one hand still on the wheel. “Think you’ll be done in an hour?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“Be careful,” he met her eyes, “You never know who could be in there, looking for something of Carr’s.”

She tilted her head his way. “I will be.”

Mercer watched her for a beat longer, then nodded. “I’m heading back to the apartment. Forensics should be finishing up. I’ll let you know if they found anything else.”

The door gave a satisfying thunk as she stepped out into the dim, damp air. Her boots met the slick sidewalk, the scent of rain-soaked brick and old paper already in the air.

The cruiser pulled away, leaving Ivy alone with the faint golden glow spilling from the bookstore windows.

She pushed the door open. A small brass bell chimed softly above her head.

Inside, stacks of books lined the walls, and a table near the front held a display of local authors and fall-themed reads. The air was filled with the scent of worn wood. She peered quickly around the store; no one was behind the counter.

No voices. No movement.

The silence sent a small chill down her arms.

She wandered slowly past the front desk, glancing around for a clerk, or the owner. Then, she noticed a narrow staircase toward the back of the store. A wooden sign hung above it in faded paint:

RESEARCH COLLECTION – STAFF ONLY

That’s where Carr worked.

Without a second thought, Ivy started up the stairs.

She moved slowly between the rows, her fingers brushing along worn titles as she scanned for anything Nathaniel Carr might’ve left behind: notes, bookmarks, anything unusual.

---

The second floor of Briar & Vine was warm and quiet, the kind of quiet that gave Ivy a wave of nostalgia. Streetlight filtered in through the stained-glass windows, a spectrum of color catching the soft swirl of dust in the air. The shelves stretched tall and close, packed with old hardbacks: their spines clearly dusted, meticulously cared for.

Then she heard it. A quiet creak of the floor behind her.

Slowly, she turned.

Elias stood near the edge of the shelves, half-shadowed by the filtered light. Tall and unmoving. His posture was relaxed, but there was something quietly intense about the way he watched her. He wore a simple black long-sleeve shirt, sleeves pushed up to his forearms. His black hair fell slightly over his brow, just shaggy enough to soften the sharp lines of his face.

Her breath caught.

“I didn’t hear you come up,” she said softly.

He stepped forward, unhurried. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t.”

He arched a brow, the edge of a smile teasing his mouth. “Could’ve fooled me.”

That earned the faintest smile from her, and she hated how easy it came.

“I remember you,” she said, “From the festival.”

“I remember you too.” Elias replied.

The quiet between them stretched, like the room itself was listening.

“I thought maybe you’d left town,” she said.

He tilted his head slightly. “I thought about it,” he said. “But then I stayed. Maybe I was waiting for something.”

He said it easily, but it landed like he meant something deeper. Ivy didn’t look away.

“Do you hang around here often?” She asked.

“I like how quiet it is here.” His smile flicked, there and gone.

She caught herself smiling again, thinking of how she’d said the same thing to him.

And then she remembered what Graham had told her. The smile quickly faded from her lips.

“You know… you have a bit of a reputation.” she said carefully.

“So they tell me.”

“Is it true?” she asked, watching him.

His expression didn’t shift, but his voice was quieter. “That depends. What did you hear?”

Ivy opened her mouth and then shut it. She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

“They said you hurt someone.”

A breath of silence past between them.

His eyes didn’t move from hers. “That’s true.”

The way he said it, looked at her. It made her heart jump. The revelation, and something else in his gaze.

“And…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, “that you cut them.”

“That’s true, too.” He didn’t smile when he said it.

Her breath hitched slightly, heart pounding in her chest. She glanced around her, feeling the bookshelves closing in.

He wasn’t denying it. He was admitting to it.

“You don’t know the whole story,” his tone was lower now, “And if you did, you wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”

“So, tell me it.”

He looked down at the space between them before taking a step closer. “He wasn’t innocent. He was a part of something… dark. Something evil.”

He leaned in slightly, the warmth of him brushing against her.

“He took people.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, only a step away now. They looked like a chaotic sea raging against a cloud-streaked sky.

And for some reason, she believed him.

“Then who’s taking people now?”

The question hung in the air between them.

“Is that why you’re here? To find out what happened to Carr?” His brow furrowed, like the realization had troubled him.

“And if I am?”

“Don’t get too close, Ivy.” His tone was softer than she’s expected. And she could see it, the genuine concern in his face.

“Is that what happened to Carr? Did he get too close? Do you know what happened to him?”

Elias looked away for the first time, jaw tightening as if the question had struck something in him.

“I know pieces of it,” he said after a pause. “Not enough. Only the shape of it, like a shadow on the wall.”

Ivy studied him, searching for any hint of deceit behind his words, but found nothing.

“And what about Lily?” she asked before she could stop herself.

That made him still completely. The air between them shifted.

“Lily?” he repeated, slow. “I never knew her.”

“She’s my sister. She disappeared a year ago.”

Something flickered in Elias’s expression. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“She’s the reason I came here,” Ivy said, quieter now. “And Carr is the reason I stayed.”

Elias nodded, his gaze heavier.

“Now I get it.”

The quiet pressed in again, heavy with things unsaid. Ivy didn’t move. Neither did he.

“Why are you really here?” she asked, watching him.

He held her gaze for a long beat. “The same reason as you.”

“I’m looking for answers.”

“Or maybe you’re looking for someone to blame.”

There was no accusation in his tone, only understanding.

She breathed in slow. “Maybe I just want the truth.”

He studied her face, like he was memorizing it. “The truth is dangerous, Ivy. Some people don’t come back from it.”

“I’m not most people.”

That made him smile, soft, but fleeting. “No. You’re not.”

Then a faint thud echoed somewhere below them, muffled, but enough to break the stillness. Ivy tensed, glancing toward the stairwell.

Elias’s expression shifted, subtle and serious.

“We shouldn’t be up here,” he said, voice low.

“You’re the one who snuck up on me.”

“I wasn’t the first.”

She stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Elias looked toward the shelves behind her. “Someone else came through earlier. I didn’t see who. Just heard them. They left in a hurry.”

Ivy’s grip tightened around the strap of her bag. “You think they were looking for something?”

“I think they found something.”

Her pulse ticked faster.

“Who-“

“You should go,” Elias said, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s not safe around here after dark.”

“And you?”

“I’ll stay a while longer.”

She lingered, uncertain. “Will I see you again?”

He met her eyes. This time, there was no trace of teasing in him.

“Yes.”

Then he turned, disappearing into the shadows between the shelves.

Ivy stood alone, the silence swallowing his absence, and made her way to the stairs. Thoughts were winding around her head, starting and stopping before she could put anything coherent together.

But one thought lingered longer than the others.

He’s a piece of this puzzle.