Strange Things Done by Elle Wild Page A

I only noticed because she was wearing the most fabulous fur coat I’ve ever seen.” She added, “Wonder if she killed it herself?”
    “May … wasn’t she at the town meeting?”
    “Could have been. She pays pretty close attention to everything that goes on in Dawson. Owns her own business in town, a jewellery store called The Gold Digger.”
    “She was staring at me during the meeting yesterday. Like she wanted to say something.”
    Sally stopped walking and stooped down to examine fresh tracks, as though they were a secret language written in the snow. “Probably going to advise you to invest in a comb, dear.” Sally shot a look at Jo’s hair, which was probably sticking out at odd angles under her black toque. “And then there’s Byrnie.” Sally looked up at her. The way she was crouched there in the snow, her curious face framed in fur, suggested the appearance of something feral about to pounce.
    “What about him?”
    “You really don’t know?” Sally cackled a little as she stood up again, delighted with the notion of a good scandal, presumably. “Did Marlo see you get into his truck?”
    “Yeah, she did. Why?”
    Sally brushed snow from her legs. “What happened after that?”
    “Well. Actually, I … don’t remember much of the ride.”
    “No!” Sally said it in mock surprise.
    “I’m not sure whether or not we went straight back to the apartment. I remember driving through a wooded area …”
    “Guess you’ll cover that ground on your date.” Sally sneered, then began drawing in the snow with the toe of her boot. A heart. A childish gesture that seemed a little spiteful.
    “It’s not a date.” Jo felt defensive. Was the entire town talking about her? Was it a date? The notion of being back in the public eye rankled. “Anyway, I won’t have time to go out tonight. I’ll be way too busy with my story.” Jo glanced at the sky. An egg yolk of a sun was beginning to bleed into a pan of dark cloud like a Northern fry-up. “And I need to get into the office first thing this morning, so if we’re about done here …”
    “Why do you think about work so much? What happened to you?” Sally shifted the weight of the leather hunting bag on her shoulder, her green eyes bright.
    “What do you mean?”
    Sally gave her a look that Jo interpreted as, “ Honestly! ” but said, “Everyone knows…”
    “What?” Jo felt her breath catch.
    “Well. Maybe not everyone. A few people, anyway.
    “Know what?”
    “Know that you were lynched in the press over a big story. A murder case, right? The Surrey Strangler?” She folded her arms across her chest.
    “Who told you that?”
    “This is a small town. Things just have a way of getting out.”
    “People know …?”
    “Not the details ,” Sally said, her forehead furrowing. “But really, what happened to you?” Jo felt as if a very tight cord that had been keeping her erect had suddenly been released, permitting her body to slouch forward. She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear, wearied and irritated by all things that wouldn’t stay in their proper places.
    “I guess I lost something,” Jo said. “My perspective.”
    “But what happened to that woman wasn’t your fault …”
    “No, it was, actually.”
    Sally cocked her head, but said nothing.
    Jo squeezed the ends of her fingers in a failed effort to bring back the circulation. “I’d been doing a crime blog for the Sun . I was following a case the press were calling ‘The Surrey Strangler.’ ”
    “Catchy.”
    “Uh-huh. My father was a police officer and had inside information—he told me that the first body had been found naked, with bruising at the throat. But he was worried that the violence was escalating.”
    “Escalating how?”
    “Well, the second victim had been strangled and had her ear scorched off with something. They didn’t know what. Maybe a welding torch.”
    “God!”
    “I know. When he told me, we were right in the middle of having