Free Devil's Oven by Laura Benedict

inside.
    “You doing all right?” Denise asked him when the door closed behind Keith.
    Denise was good people. A thirty-year DNR veteran, she had survived six different governors’ administrations and an investigation into her alleged use of state money to finance a sweet house on Lake Norfolk. Nothing was proven, and six months later she had melted back into bureaucratic obscurity. Despite being a grandmother of six, Denise, only about five foot two, was compact in her gabardine pantsuit and tailored navy trench coat. The damp had caused her closely trimmed gray hair to curl slightly and her faded blue eyes were concerned. She cared about her people and liked to surround herself with those she felt she could respect and trust.
    Tripp nodded. “Hell of a way to wake up,” he said.
    “I imagine you don’t get much excitement in the neighborhood,” she said. “How long have you been up here again?”
    “Almost twelve years,” he said. “As soon as I could afford it.” He didn’t mention how cheaply he had gotten the place, or how he had bought it off a doctor whose kids had been so spooked by the density of the nighttime woods, and the sounds of coyotes and owls they heard when they came up on the weekends that they refused to ever come back.
    “Spotted a timber wolf last week up near the wood pile,” Tripp said. “He took off, but he looked pretty well fed.”
    “Livestock around the place?”
    Tripp shook his head. Even small talk felt weird to him, and Denise was always slow to come around to her point. “Nope, I think he was just marking territory.”
    “You need to take a couple days off to clear this out of your head,” she said, gesturing to the uniform-surrounded body. “I can get Becker out of mothballs to cover for you. He’s had a good two months since his shoulder surgery. Plus he’s driving me crazy at the office.” She eyed him closely. “You sure you got some sleep last night? You don’t look like you rested very well.”
    “I’m good,” Tripp said. “There’s been a lot of activity over on the western boundary. I need to follow up.” He knew he probably looked like shit, and it would be like her to notice. “But it can wait.”
    “Works for me,” Denise said. She gave his upper arm a light squeeze. “Keep me posted. Get your beauty sleep.”
    Tripp watched her walk down the steps and out to her state-issued SUV. She didn’t stop to talk to any of the investigators or troopers, but nodded to them as she turned the vehicle in the grass and drove out. He liked Denise. He didn’t like to lie to her.
    “I don’t think the big boys need me hanging around,” Keith said behind him. “Ginger and I like to have some alone time while the kids are at school. But I guess I ought to look in at what’s happening at the Git ’n’ Go first, see if the Jolly Green Giant returned to the scene. Hell of a mess. I wonder where the rest of the poor bastard’s head is.”
    “You know I appreciate you coming up here, man,” Tripp said, meaning it. “It was good to see a friendly face after…”
    “No face at all?” Keith grimaced. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
    They stood in silence for a moment. Tripp noticed that the bank of bird feeders he kept on the rise in the side yard was completely empty. He had overlooked more than a few things since he started seeing Lila. He felt sometimes like he had let his own life drift away from him while he took on another.
    Keith started down the porch steps. When he reached the stone walk, he turned back.
    “Hey, did you say you were dating a dancer a while back? What was her name again?”
    Tripp said. “Not me, man.”
    “Damn. Could’ve sworn you told me you were dating a redhead from the club. Or maybe someone said they saw you out.”
    “Must have been someone else,” Tripp said. Bullshit. No one saw me with Lila. We’re too careful. Then he remembered what Jolene had said about Lila. “I gave one a ride home the other night. But she