Chapter 8

I looked up and saw the sign from above.

Welcome to Sylvan's Tourist Spots, the large billboard said in cursive black calligraphy. In bold letters directly beneath the heading were the words, Fun Tourism, and a good list of activities for a traveler's itinerary. The background was an outline of the mountains, the large forest area and the river.

Sylvan is popularly known for it's breathtaking, natural sceneries, rock climbing trainers, hunting games and frequent kayaking activities. This was where Samantha worked.

It kinda looks fun. It's just too bad I'm not here for pleasure... oh wait, I am, right? Criminal investigation was my kind of fun- don't judge me!

Anywho, according to what Mrs. Luccita said yesterday, she heard from her cousin who heard from her neighbor whose brother worked with Samantha, whose name was Olden, that Samantha had been meeting with someone in the forest every day after working hours.

Also, according to Kassy, she though Samantha had seemed troubled by something which may have made a huge impact to Sam's life. What could have potentially upset Samantha during that time period?

I need to fill out the blanks- the someone and something parts- in order to retrace Samantha's last activities before she disappeared. Her phone was missing and the detective had told me that they couldn't trace her whereabouts using her sim, so that was out of the question. The police were also looking into her social media accounts but found nothing in the last six days.

That's why I came here wearing another disguise. It was a classical investigator costume. I was wearing a cardigan, a pair of black sunglasses, and chewing a gum, acting so chill.

I looked cool, felt cool.

I've brought my honorary investigator ID too, tucked safely in my pocket. Hey, badges could come in handy too, ya know?

Another significant thing I added to my disguise was a black wig. Because, let's face it, nobody thinks that blondes can be detectives, do ya? I just don't want to raise any eyebrows here.

I squatted down near a table to put a small pebble in my shoe before standing up again. It was the most effective and efficient method to change my stance and the way I walk.

I made sure I was already in character as I sauntered across the crowd of travellers with their cameras flashing randomly and guides at the lead. I didn't want to risk the chance of someone whom I have already met in Sylvan to recognize me as the blonde who sang at the bar. That was no trouble since I've been practiced in method acting since I was 14.

The sky was already bright with sunlight. It was still eight in the morning, yet people were already bustling about. There were a few children playing around the huge landscape.

Well, well. The town's forests were bigger than I had anticipated. Far ahead, I could see the river with a number of people wearing vests for safety precautions, canoes and paddles at the ready.

I did one quick sweep over the area using my eyes alone and found Olden standing out like a sore thumb.

I already did a quick research on his social media profile before I came here. His full name was Olden Fritz Petrovich.

Twenty-five years old, single, lived just a few kilometers away from here. Russian father, American mother. Rusty red hair, pale skin and brown eyes. He was friends with Hannah on Facebook and always made reactions to her posts. I even knew his recent activities as of last week and who he had been with.

It was funny how much people could reveal about themselves using these social websites. It was so useful for people like me.

Olden was in charge of the hunting games. He was licensed in the perusal of firearms but he didn't give tourists real guns though. Rather, they came up with simulation activities that's called Hunter's League. It sounded like some sort of video game to me, but who am I to judge?

Once I came within twelve feet to Olden, I called his name in my most strictly business voice, "Olden Petrovich?" He had been speaking to his colleagues who wore the same brown slacks and button up shirt.

When he turned to find out who had called his name, his thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yes?" he inquired in his Russian accent, clutching an intimidating shotgun.

"I'm Detective St. Claire. I would like to inquire some follow up questions regarding Samantha Roberts' disappearance. May we talk in private?" His eyes hardened more seriously as I bluffed my introduction while his co-workers glanced at us curiously from a few distance away.

"This way," he gruffly replied, leading me away into the woods nearby, further away from the customers loitering around who may overhear.

I duly noted that he had brought his hunting weapon with him. If this were another scenario, I wouldn't ever follow an armed Russian into the woods. Ever.

Once we were out of everyone's line of sight, he quickly turned around to face me. "What is it about officer? I was already interviewed by the cops before. Why do this again?"

"Mr. Petrovich, I have a private intelligence telling me that you have seen Samantha meeting with a strange man everyday during the few weeks before she disappeared." He visibly stiffened once I announced that.

"How did you-"

I cut him off abruptly. "I need you to answer truthfully sir. This information could very well help us find Samantha. Can you describe the man you had seen her meeting?"

I watched Olden carefully, observing the way his eyes darted from side-to-side and how his red mustache twitched slightly as though he was deep into an internal debate. He didn't answer me yet, but leant casually against a tree, crossing his arms over his chest. It was a clear sign that he's trying to block me off.

"Sir?"

He met my gaze through the sunglasses. "Who told you?"

"As I said, it was private intelligence. I cannot divulge anything else on the matter," I spoke in a no nonsense manner.

Olden glared at me. I could trace his knitted eyebrows and the rippling motion in his jaw. It only added to the daunting vibe he was sporting. A large man with a big gun and an angry look directed at you.

His shoulders visibly tensed as if ready to attack, and we were just in the right secluded area for him to get rid of me without detection.

Oh no. I need him to relax, else I wouldn't get anything from coming here.

"Sir?" I spoke calmly, trying to pacify him. "I need you to cooperate with me, sir."

I saw it coming before it could even happen.

There was a sudden shift in his stance, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tightening as though preparing himself for action.

His body made an almost imperceptible swinging motion to the opposite direction of his weapon...

Olden was fast, but I was faster and was anticipating his attack.

He leaned slightly to the left, abruptly swinging his weapon to my chest level. It was a split-second move. But then, I made my counterattack with a quick swipe to the barrel, leaning to the opposite side so that the pointed end wasn't directed at my body.

Once I got rid of the immediate threat, I made two diagonal jabs at his thorax and pharynx.

Olden instinctively doubled over, dropping the weapon to clutch at his neck. He coughed for a few minutes, his pale complexion turning red.

"Are you ready to cooperate?" I said as I pointed his own weapon at him.

"You damn Americans!"

I raised a brow at him. "You're half American yourself," I retorted.

He coughed again, sagging against the tree he had been leaning on earlier. "What are you waiting for? Go ahead and arrest me."

I tilted my head to the side. "No, not yet. Why did you try to attack me? What's got you so worked up over my question? Did you really think that was worth threatening a member of the crime division? Unless you have a perfectly good explanation, I won't arrest you."

The conflict on Olden's face was almost tangible. "Why are you saying this?"

"I need to find Samantha, that's why."

Something in Olden's eyes clicked. He slowly straightened himself and surveyed me up and down. "You are not from Sylvan's police force, are you?"

My brows furrowed. "No. I'm not," I answered honestly, well partially honestly.

Olden's gaze surveyed our surroundings as though checking if anyone were eavesdropping, before saying, "I will tell you what I know, but don't tell anyone it came from me, especially the officers from Sylvan."

"I will protect your identity, I swear by the law," I told him in the most serious tone I could muster.

"I've had my fair share of threats for the last couple of days. I am in a difficult situation because of what I have seen."

I nodded. "I understand. I will offer you protection."

Olden's face grimaced slightly, a faint smile tugging at a corner of his lips as he surveyed me. "You? A woman?"

I cocked the shotgun and pointed it to his head. "Haven't I proved myself enough?"

He raised his arms in defeat, eyeing the weapon in my hand. "Yes, yes. You did."

"So, tell me."

Dubiously, he cast a look around us which made me suspicious of what he had to say. "Samantha was meeting with a man."

"And?" I prompted.

"You promised you won't ever tell who told you this," he said firmly.

"I already did."

I knew then that something was terribly wrong. Whatever information he was about to tell me was highly confidential and crucial.

"It was Mr. Olive," he whispered, staring at me, transfixed.

Then, it hit me. "Olive," I repeated the last name in my own lips, remembering now that I've already come across this last name twice. "Mrs. Olive's husband, the owner of the hotel or the vice-mayor of Sylvan?"

"Both," was his answer. "They are one man."

My brows furrowed in deep thought. I've read about Sylvan's officials and the scandals surrounding the town before I came here. I must admit, this was truly a very juicy information.

"So, Samantha had been meeting with the vice-mayor-"

"Hush!" he cut me off, putting a finger against his lips as his eyes darted around us. When he's made sure that there was no one around, he whisper-yelled at me, "Be careful what you say about him, detective. He's a very powerful man and he does not take kindly to anyone blemishing his reputation."

"I understand." I nodded reluctantly, wondering what the underlying meaning to his words were. "I only wanted to clarify. So, he meets her every day after working hours, am I correct?"

"Yes," Olden confirmed. "I walk by the lake toward the south end of town to head home and I see her come by there everyday in her car as if waiting for someone. She never saw me though and I never asked her why she was there. It's none of my business." He shrugged.

"Samantha is a very seductive woman, you know? So it's not that hard to imagine her..." he trailed off, letting the sentence to finish using the imagination.

"Seductive... but was she flirtatious?"

"Depends on who you are."

My frown only deepened this time, wondering what kind of woman she was other than what her friends portray her to be. Mrs. Port had said she was very sweet and kind while Kassandra had told me she was a highly spirited person.

"There was one time," Olden continued, "I became curious to what she had been doing there. That area of the town was secluded. I was very intrigued as to what she could have been waiting for there. So, I hid behind the bushes. You can imagine my surprise when he appeared." Once again, Olden cast a glance over our surroundings.

"I've seen them arguing at that time."

"When was that exactly?"

"Around five weeks ago." He drag his tongue over her upper lips to wet them. "She was crying against him while he seemed very pissed off. But the way they held each other... well, let me just say that it wasn't looking like an innocent embrace."

Five weeks ago... Kassandra told me that Samantha had been acting strange around that period. This could be very well connected to her dampened mood. But what were they arguing about?

"Did you hear anything they were saying at that time?"

"No, I was too far away. But I do know they went to this cabin deeper into the woods."

I almost jumped at his words. "Can you give me specific directions?"

He squatted down on the ground and picked up a random piece of thin wood. Olden then used that to draw on the soft earth.

"This is the road from here headed to the south," he said as he drew a straight line. "There is a fork here. You'll see a stream of running water to the left side of the road and thick foliage on the right. And in this spot is where Samantha usually parks her car." Olden studiously explained to me how to find the cabin using marks on the trees.

"Alright." I nodded, mulling over the new information I had gathered. "Last question, have you told anyone else about this?"

"Other than my family, no. I am not married yet, so I stay with them."

And apparently your family told your neighbors, I thought.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Petrovich." I took out a calling card from my pocket with the surname St. Claire. "Please contact me if you find out anything else. Don't hesitate to ask for my help when you feel that you are in trouble."

"I'm fairly certain I won't," he muttered, still feeling uneasy being in an open area where eavesdroppers could potentially be lurking about. "I just hope nothing terrible happened to that woman."

We then went back to the middle of the crowd of tourists, Olden at the lead while I followed behind him with the shotgun. I made sure to unload the weapon before returning it to him. Then, we separated without a word.

Spitting out my gum bullseye to the nearest trash bin, I got inside my car and took off my wig, sunglasses and cardigan. "So hot," I muttered, fanning myself using my hand.

Just then, my phone vibrated from my pocket.

Leaning forward, I raised my buttocks a little to grab the phone from my back pocket. It was the detective. I pressed my index finger against the biometric scanner to unlock it and his message popped up.

Finally, there's a witness. This could very well help with the case or this could only spark up false hope if it's just a mistaken identity. In any case, anything was better than nothing.

I can't... yet.

Please look into it without me.

I have a trail to follow.

What is it?

Where are you?

I paused, knowing what was coming. There was no avoiding this. The detective was surely going to flip again.

I took a deep breath. There he goes again, worrying over nothing. Sometimes, he just sounds like my father.

I noticed there was also an unread message from Kassy around 20 minutes ago.

I hurriedly texted her back.

So, I have an appointment with Kassy today.

Busy, busy, busy.

I let my head rest against the headrest of my seat, closing my eyes.

Detective Michael was already preoccupied and I don't think it's fair to call him over. Besides, it was better to divide the task to maximize efficiency.

Opening my eyes again, I then began driving deeper into the forest area.

For the second time today, I ventured into the woods...