On Friday—

  The sun was just beginning to set and I was so damn tired.

  But I had an appointment to keep. The note left by Roo’s body had been meant for me, and it had directed me to the edge of the 100-acre wood, past the big tree with the door at the base, past Owl’s now vacant house. Past Eeyore’s house.

  The person who had left that note was the person who had killed Roo. And I knew who that was. The letter had been addressed to Edward Bear, a name I had not gone by in a long, long time. And only one person knew that name.

  I pushed aside the tree. A man was sitting on a stump several feet away. He must have heard me approach, because he reached a hand out and patted a stump next to him.

  “Come have a seat you silly old bear.”

  I sat down and turned to him, “It’s been a long time, Christopher Robin.”

  "It's Chris now."

  Gone was the blonde-haired boy with scraggly hair and too short shorts with the frayed shoes and generous smile. In its place was an adult, well-groomed hair and jeans. There was also little humor to his expression.

  “I assume you have questions, you silly old bear.”

  “You are only partly right.” I offered.

  He arched an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I do have questions. And I am old.” I paused. “But I am definitely not silly. I am angry.”

  He smiled. “Oh you are? And why is that, serious, old bear?”

  “Why did you kill Eeyore and Roo?”

  Silence.

  “I didn’t kill Eeyore.”

  I shook my head. “No, I know. You got Roo to do it. Put it in his mind that there was an escape. A way out. Offer him the world. Or at least, the chance to leave. All he had to do was kill a friend. Right? Easy peasy. Keep your hands clean.”

  Christopher didn’t say anything. So I kept going.

  “What I don’t get, is why you had to kill Roo. why not just let him go? Let him live his life?” I kept as much of the anger out of my voice as possible. “Why kill him?”

  Another bout of silence. This time I waited. And waited. Finally, Christopher Robin, or the man now calling himself Chris, spoke.

  “He knew too much. He could have ruined it all.”

  I sniffed. “Just like Eeyore?”

  Christopher sighed. “How much do you know?”

  I nodded toward the construction equipment and heavy machinery parked just down the slope from us. It was just over the property line, but i could tell they were gearing up to move soon. Piles of lumber and stone were strategically placed along a clearing.

  “You are trying to sell the 100-acre wood to a developer. You were just this close,” i held a thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart, “from sealing the deal. Everything seemed fine. Until Eeyore found out.” Christopher was about to speak, but i held up a hand to forestall him. “He was going to derail the deal, wasn’t he? So you engineer a little suicide to keep your payday. Then you eliminate Roo and close the circle on your little secret. After all, who's going to miss a depressive and a violent misfit?”

  I kicked a rock and it went skittering down the hill.

  “We’re all just disposable to you.”

  We sat there in silence again. I watched the construction equipment. For any sign of movement down there, beyond the border that I never dared cross. Not that I had ever tried. I pulled a small bottle of honey out of the pocket of my coat. It was the same bottle i had taken from Eeyore’s. I popped the cork and poured just a tablespoon into my mouth. I embraced the warmth that followed. Christopher eyed me.

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  “McMansions.”

  I put the bottle down. “What?”

  “Everyone wants a big house, 6 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms, big lot. Everyone wants one of those tacky abominations, and they are willing to pay top dollar for them. It takes a quarter acre to get them to a million-dollar price tag. This,” he swept a hand back toward the 100-acre wood, “this place could fit 400 mcmansions, if I played my cards right, at $1 million a pop. The developer would take his chair, and the county too. But my share Pooh,” his eyes practically shown, “My share would be $100 million. One million for each and every acre of this 100-acre wood.”

  I knew what was coming next. “Eeyore found out about your little secret. About what’s in the ground?”

  Christopher laughed. But it wasn’t like the carefree laughter of a child playing with his animal friends. Or leading an expedition to the north pole or throwing a party for a friend. It was the brittle laugh of a man who sees his dreams evaporate and did anything he could to salvage them.

  “The soil contains elevated levels of arsenic, beryllium, cadmium, copper, lead, nickel, and zinc,” Christopher spoke as if he was reading from a report. A soil report, to be exact, as Pooh had assumed it would be. “It is our opinion that such soil would be unsafe to construct residential facilities upon, as it would be hazardous.”

  He turned to Pooh. “Eeyore confronted me. I tried to calm him. To cut him in on the action too. All he had to do was stay silent.” Christopher sighed. “But I knew he wouldn’t. That was when I decided…”

  “That he had to die?” I finished.

  Christopher nodded. But it was weak. “And one thing led to another …” he trailed off. “I wish you hadn’t found out, Pooh. But you did. You always do.”

  “Or my name wasn’t Edward Bear.” I offered. “You had two names as a kid, as you always liked to say. And so did I.”

  He laughed. “I know. And it will make it so much harder when I kill you too.”

  I couldn’t help the shiver that raced down my spine. I had no doubt that this man I had called my friend so many years ago would throttle the stuffing out of me if he thought it would make him one dollar richer.

  Too bad it wouldn’t.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Christopher.” I said as he reached for me. He stopped. I continued. “You see, I found out about the soil. I guessed that it was development. Kanga had seen the construction equipment prepping. I knew Roo wasn’t smart enough to stage a convincing suicide. But he was smart enough to leave a note. A note about how you directed all of it. How you bribed owl to clean up the crime scene. About the soil reports. And I have that letter somewhere safe. And If I die,” I looked at him, “it goes straight to the police.”

  Christopher stopped. “When this is all over, you won’t have a home you old bear. You won’t have anywhere to go.”

  I shook my head. “Oh, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Christopher. But I found the soil sample that Eeyore had tested. And I sent it off to the county alongside the notes I took from Roo’s letter.”

  As if on cue, the construction equipment began to come to life, engineers roaring. But instead of starting in on the 100-acre wood, they began to turn away. Christopher leaped to his feat and screamed.

  “No. No. No.” He whirled on me. “You can’t do this. You can’t.” He reached out with both hands around my neck. I could see the rage in his eyes. The despair. The look of a man that gambled his own morality and had lost.

  And he had lost.

  “The note.” I gasped. “Remember the note.”

  It took longer than I had hoped, but Christopher let go, slowly. I took in a deep breath, then another. He sat there, watching the vehicles leave, one by one, his dreams evaporating and dissipating like the smoke from their tailpipes.

  “Maybe not new houses, but mark my words Pooh. I will figure out something. And I will gladly sacrifice all of this little childhood remnant for that money.” He said. He had never sounded more sure of anything in as long as I had known him.

  “Oh, I very much doubt it, Christopher.” I spoke slowly and clearly. To make sure he fully understood. “I have submitted these woods for inclusion as a national refuge and park. It turns out that there are several animals and species of plant that are threatened, and nothing can be built here anyway.”

  I downed the rest of Eeyore’s honey in one long gulp. I stood up. Christopher had a look of horror on his face. “You didn’t.”

  “I have. And I did,” I walked away. “Pretty good for a silly old bear, right?”

  I walked back through the brush and into the setting sun as I ran into a familiar figure. Piglet stood there as if holding vigil. Perhaps he had been. But as I walked, he fell in beside me, a creature of friendship and habit. I still did not know how much I should tell him about our once best friend. About how far he had fallen. What he had done. Perhaps it was better to leave Piglet with a world that made sense. A world, however cruel, that was still brighter than the one we lived in.

  “Would you like to try to catch a Heffalump with me?”

  Maybe it was all the honey, but I found myself smiling. “Of course, friend. We can try.” We walked along again in silence for a few moments.

  “It’s a very funny thing, Piglet.”

  “What is?” He looked at me.

  “Life, Piglet.”

  “Maybe.” He kicked a small rock and it bounced down the hill. “But you found Eeyore’s killer. You solved the case. And at least it’s all over now.”

  I nodded. But I didn’t believe it. Christopher Robin would be back, I knew it. Owl would not be gone forever either. Rabbit would always be up to no good, and Kanga, well — she was trouble with a capital “T.”

  No. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. I looked out over the 100-acre wood, the sun’s brilliant rays streaming over the horizon.

  It was just beginning.