Marleen Shoefeldt's body was found almost two weeks later, heavily decomposed and dumped into a ditch off the edge of a county road like garbage. Its location deep in the mountains surrounding the town of Bitterroot was blamed for her late retrieval. The fact that she was found at all, along with the other two victims of the local serial killer, was deemed a miracle. At least that was the thought process of the reporters on the television droning in the background of the small but busy diner that Camilla had found herself in. A shiny red case was nestled between her feet as she curled over the counter. Her coffee had grown cold as she had read her way through the newspaper and the waitress stopped on her way by to top off her cup from a freshly brewed pot. After a quick smile at the kind and portly woman she was pulled right back into her reading.

"What'er you lookin' for so intently in there?"

Camilla once again glanced up at the waitress and smiled abashedly. "Well I have just decided to stay in this beautiful town, I just need to find where." Her face twisted once again into a large smile.

The woman behind the counter instantly seemed to take pity on the girl. Her own face twisting into concern. "Now look here honey, I only just saw you hop off the bus but you've gotta be blind and deaf not to know that this town is not safe for young women right now." Her body angled as she looked back at the tv that was perched over the hand-written daily menu. An obvious nod to the fact that the serial murders were the only topic of today's news.

"Marleen was a good girl, smart and so darn pretty. Reason she was still even in this town was t'help out her poor momma." She returned her gaze to Camilla, a stern look overcoming her features. "You shouldn't make the mistake of being here at this time sweetie. Move on to the city, find yourself a sweet man and settle down away from this nightmare."

The solemn air at the counter didn't seem to faze the young woman who smiled softly down at the paper she had been folding between her fingers. A sigh escaped her lips before she replied to the waitress, "I am coming from a city where there is almost always an active murderer wandering the streets. Nothing I haven't had to worry about before. It is a smaller pool of potential victims, but I feel much safer here than I do in that jungle." Her eyes slid to the name badge on the front of the waitress's collar, "But thank you for your kind concern miss Betty. Do you happen to know the best place to stay right now? " She leaned farther onto the counter, smoothing the wrinkled paper flat. Betty seemed to deflate at the realization that this naive girl wasn't going to be deterred and furrowed her brow in thought.

"Well ol' McCurdy just off the corner of main street and 7th has a little apartment built into his garage behind his house that I don't think has anyone in it right now. Pretty sure he rents it out on one of those sites for travelers. I can give him a call real quick."

Returning the coffee pot to its warmer, Betty moseyed into the back of the building and left Camilla alone for a moment. She looked down at the paper once again before rubbing her face in exhaustion. If she could get a good and affordable place to stay for a while today that would be amazing. Then all she had to worry about was finding information.

After a moment Betty's rounded form came back around the doorframe to the back and kitchen with a generous smile gracing her features. "McCurdy said he would be happy ta talk t'you about staying in his little apartment. Let me draw ya a map on how t'get there." She slid almost gracefully to a corner of the counter and rifled beneath it where Camilla couldn't quite see. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and she shifted in on her stool slightly before Betty popped back up with a napkin and grabbed the pen she had balancing behind her ear.

                                                                                               ***

The tiny Victorian house stood tall at the end of the road like a beacon, its newly painted white siding contrasting with the gaudy purple painted under the eaves to accent the little scallops decorating the dainty points. The walk here had been short, and uneventful. The people she happened to pass smiled sweetly and said their hellos. Neighbors leaned against fences and chatted. Yards were well kept and clean. The close and friendly neighborly atmosphere was unnerving. An older, slightly stooped man waited on a rocking chair in the shade of the covered porch right by the front door of the stately home. Camilla felt that the scene was oddly sweet. A quaint little homey vibe taken straight from a typical suburban neighborhood. This town, however, was much too small to have "suburbs," so maybe it was something more akin to what might be found in a sweet movie from the eighties. All loving parents, burgeoning love, and cheesy lines.

The man slowly rose from his perch by the door and took small, scuffing steps to the edge of the porch smiling warmly at his new guest. "Good afternoon young lady. Are you the one miss Betty called about needing a place to stay?" His voice was low and gruff, its owner obviously not used to using it much except maybe to impart folksy wisdom.

Camilla smiled warmly back and nodded up at his surprisingly tall form. "That would be me. Thank you for your time, I hope I'm not interrupting your day." The man huffed a good natured laugh and shook his head in return. "Nuthin' to interrupt these days. Comon around to the back with me I'll show you the space."

The man stomped down his porch steps and scraped his shoes along the sidewalk as he breezed past Camilla and rounded the corner. When Camilla caught up to the interestingly spry gentleman she caught sight of the garage and apartment combination. It had been a lovely carriage house back in its hay day, and had been lovingly updated into a cottage style home. Vining plants climbing the walls, keeping a firm chokehold on the building. The man had already ascended half of the iron stairs along the side of the garage to a tiny blue door framed in leaves when Camilla approached and had already unlocked it and stepped inside when she finally reached the top. The inside was small, but cozy and full of light. Small windows looked out of every direction in the open concept living space and kitchen. All pale earth tones and whites in the tile backsplash and furniture. A tiny peninsula counter was the only thing separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment providing just enough room for two narrow but tall chairs upholstered in pale green. The couch in the living room was so small that it would be better described as a loveseat, was piled with pillows of every color. Just next to it was a fluffy armchair covered in floral designs. A tiny round coffee table was the only other piece of furniture that fit into the small space. It was a nice little apartment. Betty had mentioned they rented it out to travelers, business must not be very good with the recent murders.

"The bedroom is through the door on the right," The man pointed to one of two doors in the back of the living room, and then to the only other door in the apartment. "And that is the bathroom through there. My wife is usually the one that coordinates everything but she is out at the store right now picking up some groceries so you are stuck with me and the little knowledge I have. About the most that I know is that this place'll be six hundred dollars a month, utilities included. I hope you find that fair."

He turned to look Camilla in the eye, but her attention was on the two skylights in the ceiling pouring in the majority of sunlight to the space. "That is less than I could ever hope for in the last city I lived in. Is there a minimum tenancy that you require, or are you okay with me doing month to month?" Her gaze finally met his waiting for his answer. His eyes slid back to the room around them and he slowly nodded. "Month to month is good for us. Are you not expecting to stay long in town then?"

Camilla walked to one of the chairs at the counter and set her red suitcase delicately on the cushion and ran a hand over the clasps before turning back to the old man. "You never know what adventure life might take you on. I like to keep myself free in case it comes knocking." The man nodded again and cleared his throat. "Alright you can go ahead and get settled. My wife will be back later this evening so we can meet in the main house at around six to go over the paperwork and payment. Bring an empty belly, she will be keen on feeding you."

With that he strode out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. How very trusting he was of a complete stranger off the street with no identification shown, or payment up front, Camilla mused and looked around the room again. She checked in on the pale green bedroom, and the shining white bathroom before retrieving her suitcase and closing herself into the bedroom.

                                                                                              ***

At six o'clock on the dot Camilla knocked on the front door of the main house before smoothing down her shirt and waiting patiently. It didn't take long for the door to breeze open, a tiny and thin older woman beaming from inside the golden light of the home.

"Well hello there, dear! Comon in! I hope you're hungry!" The woman ushered her into the house with flair, closing the door behind her and practically pushed her into the dining room. "My name is Lillian and I'm sure my husband Hubert forgot to mention his name earlier." She motioned toward the older man who was setting filled dinner plates on pristine place settings.

The entire home was covered floor to ceiling in pictures, tchotchkes, and colors that clashed more than they went together. Camilla thought that Lillian probably had to mute her tastes for the guest house to the point of pain if she was the one that furnished it. "Sit down, dear, get comfy and eat whatever you like!"

The older woman's voice was almost too shrill in her polite invitation, and it grated on Camilla's eardrums. "Thank you so much. My name is Camilla, it is a pleasure to meet you." She sat in the proffered chair and sent a smile to Hubert who returned the gesture as he also took his seat.

"So you are going to rent our little apartment space? How do you like it so far? I hope you find it comfortable!" Lillian chirped from her own seat, digging right into her meal after a brief pause for a simple grace.

Camilla nodded and smiled politely. "Yes it is the perfect space."

"I am sorry it is so small I hope that isn't a problem." the older woman sent a look of apology across the table.

"Oh it will be just fine for me. I only need it for a place to rest my head at night or to write." Camilla took a bite of the meal before her. The flavor of the chicken salty and tart with lemon and cream. The potatoes beneath a soft bed for the poultry, gathering the sauce that dripped down. It was simple but delicious.

"Oh you're a writer? What do you write about? Have I read any of your work?" There was barely a breath or pause for any answer and Camilla paused for a moment to make sure the other woman was done with her line of questioning. A glance at Hubert showed he was focused solely on his meal. Used to letting his overly cheerful wife steer any conversation.

"I was a journalist in my last city. Dabbled a little here and there. I'm working on my own book now. Just looking for a little more information." Lillian's face lit up and she glanced to her silent husband. "Hubey a journalist! How exciting! What did you write about?" Her small chin rested on the backs of her hands as she rested her elbows on the table. Her full attention on her guest. Camilla remained polite and smiling, looking to her new landlady and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I was an investigative journalist. My focus was on crime and murder. I am here to write about the current murder investigation as it is happening. Maybe find some information to help with the investigation."

Lillian's eyes instantly lost their sparkle and she sat up straight in her chair, exchanging a meaningful look with her husband. The atmosphere in the room changed and the older woman became suddenly quiet. "Oh. What a very... morbid profession."

Conversation was sparse after that. The meal finished and the details of rent were discussed.

Soon Camilla was back in her tiny apartment curled in the armchair. Her thoughts buzzing from one thought to another. The way Lillian's eyes flicked to her husband—brief, but enough to telegraph... what? Knowledge? Guilt? Fear? It lingered in her mind, sharpening her curiosity. The strained conversation. How the neighbors on the street eyed her down as she walked by. The palpable discomfort. This was such a small town, a population that noticed when it lost one of its own, much less three. People here knew each other. They spoke weekly if not daily and knew the business they shouldn't. Her minds eye flashed back to the look Lillian gave her husband. Secrets don't hide well in places like this. But sometimes, it only takes the right question for people to spill everything. She sighed and leaned her head back to look at the few stars that shone through the skylights. Tomorrow work would begin. She couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine. As the familiar thrill stirred in her belly, she reminded herself- fear wasn't for her anymore.