Moonlit Novella

Chapter Eleven

The apartment was quiet now, eerily so. The soft hiss of rainfall against the windows had faded to a damp stillness, broken only by the low murmur of voices and the occasional scuff of boots against wood.

Chief Mercer stepped through the doorway, nodding once at the forensics tech posted near the threshold. The man straightened as he approached.

“Evening, Chief.”

“What’ve we got?” Mercer asked, eyes already scanning the space.

“Back window was busted out. Looks like someone exited in a hurry, cut themselves in the process. There’s blood on the sill. Sample’s been collected. We also lifted a partial fingerprint.”

Mercer walked deeper into the apartment, past the packed bookshelves and overturned armchair. His boots creaked faintly across the warped floorboards.

“They come in that way too?” he asked.

“No,” the tech replied, gesturing toward the center of the room. “Front door was still locked when we arrived. But…” He crouched near the back entrance, tapping a gloved finger toward the wood. “We found these.”

Muddy boot prints. Clear, leading toward the hallway.

Mercer knelt beside them, eyes narrowing.

“Tread’s deep. Heavy boots. Probably workwear, and the mud was fresh.” The technician continued.

Mercer looked toward the window, not responding right away. His gaze drifted over the cracked glass, shards were scattered like ice across the sill. Beyond it, a line of trees stood tall and quiet, their limbs slick with rain.

Carr’s words echoed faintly in his mind.

They follow him.

He hears them in the trees.

“You think they came from the woods?” the tech asked.

“I think whoever Carr was afraid of might be real,” Mercer said, voice low. “And I think they were looking for something.”

“We thought robbery at first,” the tech said. “Drawers were rifled through. But-” he gestured toward a small table by the wall, where a silver pocket watch and a few crumpled bills still sat untouched. “Doesn’t add up.”

Mercer turned, scanning the room in silence. After a beat, he nodded. “Let me know when you get that blood typed.”

“Will do, Chief.”

He stepped away, letting the team continue as he paced the edges of the room, following the ghost trail of boot prints until they vanished into sporadic smudges. The apartment felt heavier now, like it had absorbed the paranoia Carr had lived with. The kind that didn’t go away when you locked the door.

Carr hadn’t been hiding from the world.

He’d been hiding from something in the woods.

And whatever it was had waited until the right moment to reach out and take him.

---

Rain streaked across the windshield as Mercer pulled up to the curb. Ivy slipped into the passenger seat without a word, pulling the door shut against the mist.

She settled in, pulling her damp coat tighter around her shoulders. Something about the way she held herself: shoulders stiff, gaze fixed forward, told him she wasn’t just cold.

He pulled away from the bookstore in silence, the tires whispering over the slick road.

“Find anything interesting?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah…” she said slowly. “Sort of.”

That answer made him glance over. “You talk to someone?”

She nodded once, then hesitated.

“He said he knew Carr, he used to stop by sometimes.”

“What was his name?”

A beat.

“Elias,” she said.

The name hit hard, a grimace washed over his features. Mercer’s fingers flexed once on the steering wheel.

“Didn’t know he was still in town,” he muttered.

“Neither did I.”

Mercer’s jaw worked in silence. He hadn’t seen Elias since the festival, hadn’t heard any tips about him. He’d hoped he was gone.

“What did he say to you?”

“He said someone had already been through the upstairs section. Where Carr worked. He heard them. Said they took something.”

Mercer’s brow creased. “He saw someone?”

“No. Just heard them. Footsteps. Movement. Said whoever it was left in a hurry.”

Mercer didn’t respond right away. His thoughts went back to Carr’s apartment: the muddy prints, the open drawers, the broken window, the blood. Someone had been searching for something there too.

Now they were at the bookstore.

And if Elias was telling the truth, they’d found something.

He reached for the radio clipped to the dash.

“This is Chief Mercer. I want a patrol stationed outside Briar & Vine Books. Eyes only. No lights.”

A crackle. “Copy that, Chief.”

He set the radio back and stared through the windshield. Elias didn’t give out information without motive. Maybe it was a warning. Or something to throw them off his track.

Either way, someone was moving fast.

“He say what they took?” Mercer asked.

“No.”

“Convenient.”

“He seemed serious, Mercer,” she said, voice lower now. “Like he was concerned.”

Mercer gave a quick breath out through his nose, almost amused. He couldn’t picture Elias being genuine.

They turned onto her street, the yellow glow of her porch light cutting through the fog ahead.

He pulled to a stop at the curb. “You want me to clear it?”

“I locked up before I left,” she said.

He nodded but didn’t move. Just watched the door until she reached it.

Before she stepped inside, she turned back.

“If he really is that dangerous,” she called over the mist, “why hasn’t anything happened yet?”

Mercer held her gaze for a moment.

“Because people like him don’t do the worst things first,” he said. “They wait until you trust them.”

She stood there for a moment looking at him. Then, she opened the door and stepped inside.

He pulled away slowly, headlights cutting through the fog. The road ahead was empty.

His phone rang before he reached the next corner.

He picked up on the first ring. “Yeah?”

Ivy’s voice came through, tight and breathless.

“Mercer,” She whispered, “I think someone was in my house.”