The police officer began to scan the place with a sweeping glance, his eyes moving slowly across the room without lingering too long on any detail. He seemed distracted, as if fatigue weighed on him, limiting his ability to fully concentrate. That gave me a small sense of relief. If his attention was superficial, I could use that to my advantage.
Adopting a relaxed posture, I said kindly:—If you'd like, you can sit down. I'll bring you something to drink.
He nodded slightly, accepting the invitation to sit on my sofa, but declined the offer of a drink with a gesture.—No need, thank you —he replied with a faint smile. There was something in his tone that seemed genuine, though I couldn't rule out that it was simply courtesy.
He settled onto the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. The impeccably clean furniture seemed to catch his attention for a moment, as if it contrasted with the idea he had of a cabin in the middle of the forest. Then he looked up at me and asked:—What's your name?
The question caught me off guard, though I didn't show it. I had to think fast.—Raven —I replied calmly, using the first name that came to mind.
He tilted his head, as if processing the name, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he continued with another question:—How is it that you live so far from the city? This place… —he gestured toward the window, indicating the dark forest surrounding us—. It's not very common, you know?
It was an inevitable question, but I already had an answer prepared. With a calm smile, I replied:—I'm lucky enough to work online. I'm a programmer, and that allows me to live wherever I want. I've always loved nature, and this place is perfect for enjoying the peace it offers.
The officer nodded, seeming to accept my explanation without much doubt.—Nature is amazing, that's true —he commented, relaxing a bit on the sofa—. I work in the forest all the time.
He paused briefly before letting out a light, almost mocking laugh.—In fact, sometimes I feel like I'm more of a forest ranger than a police officer.
I responded with a polite smile, matching his laugh with a slight nod. As he spoke, he seemed more interested in sharing his thoughts about his work than in digging into his initial suspicions. But his eyes, though somewhat tired, kept wandering around the room. He was looking for something. I knew it.
Fortunately, I had cleaned everything with extreme care before opening the door. There were no visible traces of blood, no sign of what had happened here just minutes earlier. Still, my mind remained on high alert.
The closet. That damn closet.
Inside was Sarah's body, wrapped in a tarp, along with the knife still stained with blood. I just needed to keep his attention away from it.
—And don't animals scare you? —he suddenly asked, changing the tone of the conversation.
—Animals? —I repeated, feigning curiosity while trying to read his intentions.
—Yeah, you know. Out here in the forest, there's everything: bears, coyotes, wolves… even snakes. I see them all the time. They're fascinating, but they can also be dangerous.
There was something in his tone that suggested he was testing me, perhaps trying to see if I hesitated or showed signs of nervousness. But I kept my composure.—Oh, sure, but I've learned to live with them —I replied casually, almost carelessly—. They're more wonderful than dangerous, as long as you know how to respect their space.
His lips curved into a small smile, and his eyes lit up with unexpected enthusiasm.—That's true. Animals are… incredible. Sometimes I think they're better than people, you know? —he said, leaning slightly forward on the sofa—. Animals don't lie. They don't hide their intentions. If a wolf growls at you, you know it doesn't want anything good. But people… they always have masks.
That comment put me on alert, but I kept my expression neutral. He had no idea how close he was to something far more literal.—That's true —I replied, allowing myself a small laugh—. Animals are direct. People, on the other hand, are complicated.
The officer nodded, satisfied with my response, and leaned back on the sofa again. But although his posture seemed relaxed, his eyes kept moving, exploring every corner of the room. I knew he was evaluating something, even if he himself didn't quite know what he was looking for.
He began talking again about nature, describing some of the animals he had seen during his night patrols in the forest. He spoke with evident passion, as if the subject truly fascinated him. His words flowed easily, mentioning encounters with deer, raccoons, and even a black bear he had seen the week before.
—Did you know owls have night vision ten times better than humans? —he said, as if wanting to share a curious fact.
—I didn't know that —I replied, maintaining my tone of false interest while trying to steer the conversation toward something less detailed.
—It's impressive, isn't it? —he continued, his voice becoming more animated—. Sometimes, when I walk through the forest, I feel like those animals are watching me more than I'm watching them.
His words seemed harmless, but there was something in the way he spoke that kept me alert. While he continued sharing stories about animals and nature, I couldn't stop thinking about the closet. I had to find a way to completely divert his attention, to make him feel satisfied and send him back wherever he had come from.
Taking advantage of a pause in the conversation, I slowly stood up from where I was sitting.—Would you like something to eat? I don't want you to think I'm not a good host —I offered with a smile that tried to appear cordial, while my mind worked frantically on how to distract him.
The officer looked at me with some surprise, as if he didn't expect such kindness at this hour of the night. At first, he shook his head, politely declining the offer. However, I didn't give up easily. I insisted, adding a touch of forced hospitality.—Come on, something simple. I can't let you leave without trying at least a bit of my hospitality —I added, keeping my tone light and friendly.
Finally, he gave in with a slight nod, though his expression showed a hint of distrust. It made sense. A man like him, exhausted after long hours working in a dark forest, probably wasn't used to spontaneous kindness from strangers. With speed and a hint of contained nervousness, I stepped into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, my mind was racing. I couldn't allow the situation to drag on any longer than necessary. I needed something that would tire him out even more, something that would convince him it was time to leave and put an end to this unexpected visit.
Then I decided on an old tactic I had used before: a glass of warm milk with honey.
Both ingredients are known for their relaxing properties. Milk contains tryptophan, which helps produce serotonin and melatonin, the sleep hormones. Honey, on the other hand, allows the brain to absorb tryptophan more effectively. It wouldn't make him fall asleep instantly, of course, but if he was already exhausted, this could push him just enough to make him leave earlier than planned.
I put the milk on the stove to heat while moving with calculated precision. The small kitchen, as spotless as everything in this house, seemed to conspire with me, reflecting my obsession with order. When the milk was ready, I added a generous spoonful of honey and stirred calmly, making sure it dissolved completely. I couldn't afford anything to go wrong.
With the glass in hand, I headed back to the living room.
As I crossed the threshold into the living room, a jolt of alarm ran through my body. The officer was no longer sitting on the sofa where I had left him. Instead, he was standing, looking curiously toward my bed. His relaxed posture had changed, and now he seemed to be analyzing the place more carefully.
A chill ran down my spine when I saw him turn toward the half-open closet.
That damn closet.
It had been a mistake to leave it like that. It wasn't completely closed, and although nothing could be seen from the outside, even the slightest opening was enough to spark anyone's curiosity. And there, behind that half-open door, was Sarah, wrapped in a tarp, turned into a secret I couldn't allow him to discover.
My hands tightened around the glass of milk as I watched the officer step toward the closet. His expression was a mix of interest and exhaustion, but his hand was already reaching for the door.
He was about to open it.
A surge of irrational panic flooded me, and before I could think better of my actions, I raised my voice:—It's ready! —I exclaimed, perhaps louder than necessary, my tone bordering on nervousness.
The officer quickly turned toward me, visibly surprised by my sudden interruption. My lips curled into a forced smile as I lifted the glass, as if nothing had happened.—Here you go. I brought you a drink. Milk with honey —I said, my voice returning to a calm, almost carefree tone.
Luckily, the mention of the drink caught his attention enough to pull him away from the closet. He stepped toward me, moving away from the threat that door represented, and took the glass with a neutral expression.—Thank you, very kind of you —he said, though his tone sounded more like automatic courtesy than genuine gratitude.
I watched him carefully as he took a small sip. His gaze wandered around the room again, but at least he had stopped approaching the closet.
For now, I was safe.
However, my mind kept searching for ways to rush this interaction before anything else could go wrong.