and greeted her.
His wife did as well from behind the window.
When Johnathan Abblepot entered the rear of the church reserved for the reverend, he did not notice that his wife had remained at the window and that Martyn Trischer was still leaning against the fence.
The looks of the two had crossed.
4.
Vestavia Hills, 1859
Nicholas Abbot opened his eyes. It was Tuesday morning. The scent of wood filled the room up.
He lived in a not very large but well-kept house, which his wife appreciated for its quietness.
A slight sticky feeling bound his tongue to the palate. He didn't know what could have been the cause.
The night before, he had gone to bed early enough and slept with a dreamless, deep, but strangely restless sleep.
It must not have been that early, judging by the light that entered the room through the door, which his wife, who had already got up, had left open.
Nicholas staggered in the day room, searching for his wife with bleary eyes.
"Good morning to my dormouse!" Anna greeted him cheerfully.
"Good morning, what time is it?" Nicholas asked, his voice strangely clear and not pasty.
"It was time to wake up!"
Annabeth was particularly cheerful that morning, and that already set the right tone for the day. The disagreements between them a few months ago seemed to be going away gradually.
Nicholas loved her: he liked everything about her, mainly how she tolerated him and how she knew how to be sweet and attentive. He was delighted with her cheerfulness, which was always ready on every occasion. Even though it had been tough for them the previous year, he never stopped experiencing these feelings.
They had been married for four years and had not been able to have children yet, but they didn't let it be an issue, even if it wasn't a comfortable situation.
Nicholas Abbot was a detective. He tried to give a name and an explanation to the tragedies that occurred daily in Vestavia Hills like in the county as in every part of Alabama.
Annabeth had never particularly loved her husband's career: Nick had to deal daily with violence and with people who were indeed not the cream of society. Nevertheless, over the years, she had become used to it: she had never intended to question the profession that her husband loved so much.
After all, nothing serious had ever happened to him in so many years. Not that Nick hadn't been in potentially dangerous situations, but he was cautious enough and very smart. Moreover, his colleagues had always given him a big hand.
"Honey, can we throw this newspaper away?" Anna said, picking up a newspaper that was on the kitchen table.
"What? Oh, no, wait, leave it there. "
"But it's two days old, what are you doing with it? Maybe it there was at least something interesting in it."
Nicholas did not reply. Instead, he asked for breakfast.
The newspaper reported the news of a child found dead not far from Church Yard. The misfortune had affected everyone in the community. The monster's hunting had already begun, but there were those who, as the article said, hypothesized an accidental death.
Reading that article, which in reality did not report anything other than the usual general journalistic information, Nick felt troubled and almost morbidly intrigued. That's why he hadn't thrown the newspaper away yet.
In the last few weeks, other tragedies like that happened, like a kind of god of violence had taken over the people of Vestavia Hills and the county. People seemed to have gotten wicked.
Perhaps, however, it was only his impression: in the months and years before, there had always been misfortunes, either related or not to violence.
However, Nick continued to feel stirred inside.
He picked up the newspaper again, and while drinking his cold milk and eating Anna's cake, he meticulously observed it again, as hypnotized by the page that reported the events of the tragedy.
In the afternoon, Nick greeted his wife with a kiss and began to leave the house; he had decided to go by the police headquarters, despite not being on duty.
"Be careful," she said, as she did every time, even if he had to go buy milk.
The dusty road reflected all the yellow of the sunlight: it didn't look like a day made for the bad news.
Once he arrived, Nick found the familiar smell of tobacco and the usual intense activity to welcome him.
"Abbot! What are you doing here?" said Philip Torrent, one of his roughest colleagues.
"I couldn't stand a day without seeing you, Phil!"
In response, Torrent let out a husky laugh and exposed his partially broken teeth.
His friend Jack said to him, "Since you've come by, Nick, I'll send you to the captain right away. He has been harassing me all morning by saying that he wants to talk to you. Even if you're not on duty. "
"Okay, Jack, thanks. I'll go straight away," said Nicholas.
Instead, he first went to check some files, which was why he had gone there.
He searched through the mess that was around and found what he was looking for: some information about the latest deaths reported by the county newspaper.
Was there something that tied everything? Nicholas thought so he could feel it.
He wanted to make sure he had read all the details that the command recovery officer had gathered and shown him not long ago.
Once he did that, he went to the boss's office.
Mr. Flitter was the worst you could wish for: quick-tempered and moody, and he also had heavy breath. However, he was a good cop.
"Abbot! Just looking for you. "
"Captain."
"Now, I want you to explain to me why you didn't tell me anything about the interrogations you did last week. I thought I was clear. "
Nicholas could have justified himself in some way, but he knew it would only make the situation worse. Therefore, he kept quiet and let the reprimand pass.
"All the information needs to go by me," Flitter yelled, "especially the ones about an investigation that I wanted."
Flitter stopped without speaking any more: with that tone, he had made things clearer than he would have done by spending more time talking.
Nick said, "Of course, sir. My mistake. I'll report back tomorrow when I'm back on duty. "Then he added hurriedly," I want to ask you to deal with a case. "
Flitter blinked
