[Ambys 2022: Mystery/Thriller Winner]
Discovering a dead body just minutes from her cottage in the trees is the last thing Dray Dinley expects upon moving to the remote town of Hero.
Being convinced by the town outcast and suspected murderer, Wells...
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Dray woke with a smile on her face. A warm scent filled the room and she opened her eyes to a beautiful sight. The ache in her side from not leaving the couch since yesterday afternoon didn't even matter.
"I could get used to this," she said, rubbing her eyes.
Wells stood over the stove, flipping pancakes. He wore an old apron Dray didn't even know she had. "Well, don't. I'm pretty sure it's the woman's—"
"Do not finish that sentence." She pushed herself up to stand and crossed her arms, walking towards him.
A pancake flipped off the griddle and landed lopsided on a plate. Wells glanced over his shoulder. "You know I'm kidding." He had a cute, crooked grin on his face.
"No, I don't," she said, but held a smile of her own. She sat down at the breakfast bar and leaned on her forearms. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright.
Wells slid a plate in front of her and squinted. "You look awfully happy this morning."
Dray side-eyed him. "I wonder why," she drawled and immediately dug into her food. It tasted just as delicious, if not better, than she remembered.
The scrape of a stool and clink on a plate raised her attention back up. Wells sat down across from her with a goofy look on his face. He took a bite, smiling at her the entire time it took him to swallow it.
"You look awfully happy this morning," she repeated.
Laughter created a wordless agreement that they were both indeed happy about what had happened the night before and where it was leading them.
Dray sighed in relief between bites of her breakfast. She dodged a bullet with Wells. After being alone for so long, she had no idea what she was getting into, but this felt like a good start. This felt like the right direction.
"So let's recap," Wells said, ending the peaceful silence. "We have the sheriff, the mayor, and Nash Yate at the top. We have your sister, Lucy, presumably in the know, and we have a lot of possible evidence in my cousin, Ivory's, trunk."
"We don't exactly have the stuff in your cousin's trunk." Dray licked the extra syrup off her fork. "So aside from Ivory's notes, we don't have much of anything at all."
His fork clanked on his empty plate and Dray's eyes grew slightly. She still had a whole pancake left. Wells rubbed his temples with his palms, his fingers entangling in his hair. "No, I guess we don't," he said.
A knock at the door resounded through the room. Dray's forehead wrinkled as she glanced between her front door and Wells. She slowly put down her pancake-filled fork and walked over. A piece of paper slid through the old-school mail slot before she got there. After a second of frozen fear, she ran the rest of the way and stood on her tip toes to look through the peephole.
