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Fahey wasn’t a hoarder; he was a prepper. His life centered on being prepared for TEOTWAWKI. The end of the world as we know it. And he was the third Deschutes County prepper to be murdered in his own home over the last few weeks.
“Because of the victims’ histories, the large number of missing weapons from all three murders could point to someone preparing for a domestic terrorism event.”
“What’s wrong with your family? My mom would fry me if she didn’t hear from me at least once a month.” “They’re different.” Understatement. “Can we not discuss this right now?”
The mill was a victim of poor economics, federal policies on tree harvests, and increased conservation measures. Now it looked like a good location to create a Halloween haunted house.
“Doesn’t everyone around here carry?” asked Eddie in a joking tone. “Usually revolvers, not Glocks.” Interest lit up her eyes. “Is this because of the men that were murdered recently? I heard Ned Fahey was found dead this morning.” The gossip chain was in full swing.
Humor was an easy coping tool, and cops used it regularly. There was no disrespect, just investigators trying to protect their hearts from horrible sights left by the underbelly of humanity.
Count five things you can touch. He placed one hand on the cold metal spigot of the sink and let the stream run over his other hand, concentrating on the sensation of running water. Then he ran a wet hand over his spiky hair, touched the rough fabric of his sleeve, and deliberately banged a knee into the white sink, welcoming the small pain. Count four things you can see.
He hated nothing worse than people who spoke to hear themselves talk or people who tried to cover up that they were slackers by using an avalanche of words. More words did not mean more intelligence.
I have found this to be accurate regarding people.
People are going to treat me however they decide. Nothing I can do about it. He needed to ignore the people who wanted to keep him on the sidelines. There were plenty of good people in town who’d gone out of their way to make him feel welcome. He was determined that Eagle’s Nest would be his home.
Little things. His mom and sister had always appreciated the little things. His dad had taught him how to listen for them, and it’d never let him down.
He would have. At some point their paths would have crossed—somehow. He knew it as firmly as he’d realized his life had changed the day he gave two FBI agents a tour of his uncle’s home. Sometimes you meet a person you’re destined to have in your life forever. She might not know it yet, but he did.
