His Woods (MxM)

16 Tyson Has a Theory

After about ten minutes of the table saw going, Claire gets the message and makes her way back to the woods.

About an hour later, I've had it. I officially call it quits for the day and go up and run the bath. My thoughts have not settled since Claire's visit, and I just can't get over the feeling that she is up to no good. Instead of taking a long relaxing bath, I am in and out and on my way up the hill in no time.

Knowing I am racing sunset, I almost jog up the path Claire always takes. I am not sure how far her house is or what I am actually looking for, but I can't shake this eerie feeling. After what has to be close to a half mile, much longer than I have ever traveled on the path, a little wooden shed, tucked behind a dogwood tree, comes into view as I take a curve in the path. I am pretty sure I am still within the bounds of Jack's property. He said the survey line was right after a small stream, but I haven't crossed any running water.

In no way would I ever consider myself a detective, but something in me set off alarms about this place. It was a faded blue, wood plank shack with one window. From here the inside looks dark, and I wonder to myself if it has electricity.

When I make it to the door, I find it locked. I guess this isn't that strange. If it is storing something, then Jack wouldn't want any random hobo or wanderer to have access to it. I walk around to the window and pull out my phone. I turn on the flashlight and shine it through the window.

Nothing. I can see nothing. Not because my flashlight isn't giving off enough light, but because the shed is lightless. Actually, the window seems to be covered from the inside with some kind of black paper or material. Moving my phone around the whole window, I find a little strip of missing material along the left side of the window. When I shine my light in, it is pretty hard to make out anything that is inside, for before my eyes can adjust, someone's face appears on the other side of the glass.

I jump back, almost falling over. Luckily I didn't scream or look too much like an ass.

In a split second, Claire was coming out of the door.

"Hi, Tyson," she almost shouts as she turns and locks the door again behind her. "You found me. This is my art studio. Jack started letting me use it a few months ago as a place I could escape to and get some of my painting done."

Jack never mentioned this to me. And who locks themselves in their own art studio in the middle of the woods? Strange.

"Oh," is all I manage, for the rest of my brain is creating thousands of off-the-wall possibilities for what is really on the other side of those wooden walls.

"I was just closing up shop for the day," she says, standing awkwardly between me and the shack. "Maybe you could come by some other day and check things out?"

I could tell that she was waiting for me to leave, so I went along with it.

"Yeah, sure," I lie. "Have a nice night, Claire."

As I turn from Jack's weird girlfriend, I hear her reply with a "Thanks. See you around," but I was already too deep into the land of Tyson Crawford, Private Detective to acknowledge her.

"Something is up for sure, Claire. You may be fooling Jack, but you are not fooling me," I think to myself as I make my way back to the cabin.

"Duh!" I say aloud, realizing I have a source for my inquiries. Grabbing my phone, I choose Officer Scott from my contacts and wait for her to pick up.

"Hey, Tyson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Scott pleasantly answers.

"Claire Miller. What do you know about her?" I get right to the point, but then I feel bad. "Also, hello Officer Scott. Sorry to bother you during your off hours."