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Authors: Karen Harper

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“Also,” he said, his voice breaking, “we need to search the cornfields now so that when the big reapers come through, no one is in the way, no evidence Sheriff McCord or his assistants need to trace—to find Sandy...”

He meant, of course, her body could be out there. He choked up, just standing mute for a moment. “We need to find traces of her, not have them destroyed. Our family thanks you for your help and prayers.” He hurried back to his seat beside his wife.

Again, Tess visualized the cornfield, the big reaper. Then someone had leaped at her, put a needle right in her neck—she was sure of it. She jerked at the memory, and Miss Etta put a steadying hand on her arm. At least, Tess thought, she was remembering more and more, like the waterfall of memories. And, strangely, she kept seeing a mounted deer head—a stag—with its glassy eyes looking down at her, as if to say, “Bad things can happen to you if you don’t behave.” She would have Gabe ask Marva if her house had once had a deer head on the wall. But she might lie. And what if Tess was just recalling how creepy John Hillman’s taxidermy shop had been?

After they sang a final hymn and the pastor made an announcement about signing up for the new search, Tess stood to go. It was getting dark; people at each door were passing out pink candles with white paper drip guards. “Are you going to the ceremony at the gift store?” Miss Etta asked.

“Yes. Are you?”

“I think I’d best get home to Mother. She spends enough time alone as is. I just hope everyone’s careful with those candles. The gift store isn’t so far from the library with all those books. I know I’m a worrywart and a perfectionist, but I just hope everyone’s careful.”

“Miss Etta, can I ask you a question?”

She looked surprised. “Why, of course, my dear.”

“Were you ever in Marva and George Green’s house, their living room?”

“I was indeed, delivering books there more than once when George was so ill. Why do you ask?”

“You have such a good mind for everything. Do you recall if they had a big stag head mounted on the wall there? It was over the fireplace, I think.”

Miss Etta frowned, evidently trying to remember. “You know, my dear, I’ve been in and out of so many Cold Creek houses, I can’t rightly recall. Why do you ask?”

“Just that either those books you gave me or just helping Gabe is freeing up my memories a bit.”

“I see. I’m relieved to hear it, and I shall look for more books to help you along. And you tell Sheriff McCord that I expect him promptly at ten when the library opens tomorrow morning to talk about that antique pistol.”

Ever quick and spry, the old woman was out the door before Vic made his way to Tess through the crowd.

26

“I
’ll bet you never thought you’d be taking on bodyguard duties when you came here to help solve a kidnapping,” Tess said as she and Vic walked out to his car parked behind Gabe’s house. The wind was up today, and the cornfield was waving as if it was restless, waiting for the big search for Sandy this afternoon. Tess hoped they’d find the girl but not lying in a cornfield. She was proud of herself that the field didn’t frighten her that much anymore. “But,” she added as they got in the car, “I can see why Gabe doesn’t want me sitting at the front desk when Marva and her attorney get there.”

“We don’t need another rant at you, and I’d just upset her too. Man, we need a break on this case. Even though Marva and Dane should be looked at, I’m still trying to track down that housekeeper fired from the mayor’s house. Her sister said she’d be back in town today. But a side trip to the Hear Ye property is right up my alley. You can see your family, and I’d love to have a chat with Brice, aka Bright Star.”

“No, you wouldn’t. He’s weird and he can make anyone feel guilty. That’s what scares me about Lee, Gracie and the kids being there. Bright Star warps minds and lives. Anyhow, I’m glad to have you along. Gabe said he chatted with Lee and Gracie at the farmers’ market, and they seemed as committed as ever. I’d rent them the house cheap again to get them out of there, but they’d never agree.”

Vic drove his unmarked black car the few miles down the road to the cult property and parked in the small lot. As ever, a guard, another tall, muscular man, stood at the gate to the compound to stop free entry.

“Brother Lawrence is my name. How may I help you?”

Like Bright Star himself, he was soft-spoken. “I’m here to see my cousins, the Lockwoods. I recently helped Lee find the location of a well here and would like to know how the project is coming,” Tess said.

“Ah, yes, I know who you are. The well will be dug soon. But Monday means school for the children. Lee and Grace of God are at work.”

“Grace of God?” Tess asked.

“She’s risen from newcomer status to special, so to speak. If you’ll wait here, I’ll inquire. And you, sir?”

“Friend of the family. Victor Reingold.”

“Ah. I do believe everyone is occupied, so perhaps I can get you an appointment for later. Of course, many of our members will be helping with the search for the recently missing girl this afternoon, so perhaps you can catch your family later at that event.”

Vic said, “Not sure you’d know about the search, since you weren’t at the prayer service for her.”

“We had our own here for her—for all who are still lost. And we stay informed.”

When he left them standing there, Vic said, “Nice hospitality here.” He zipped up his jacket and hunched his shoulders in the wind. “Glad it’s not raining or snowing so we could wait out in that weather. And I suppose all of them speak in that strange way that says nothing but seems eerily important.”

“It’s a scary situation. I wish I could spirit my family away from here—so to speak.”

Vic walked up to the crest of the hill that overlooked the Hear Ye land. “No wonder they had the best vegetables at the market,” he said as Tess joined him. They gazed at the neatly laid-out fields, mostly harvested, and long rows of white, plastic-domed covers to protect the more tender crops from early frost.

“See how strange that one looks?” Vic asked, pointing.

“Strange how? Everything’s strange around here.”

“I think that plastic in the middle isn’t covering crops. See how it’s low to the ground, kind of clinging to it? See that it’s draped over two small, rectangular plots it outlines but completely covers?”

“Maybe there’s something newly planted, and the ground sank in a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” he said, starting down the hill. “If Brother Lawrence comes back, keep him busy. I’m gonna have a look,” he called over his shoulder.

“Vic, you’ll attract a swarm of people from the compound!”

But he kept going. It was obvious he was limping more than usual, which reminded her of Gabe’s leg injury. She hoped things were going well at the sheriff’s office with Marva and her attorney. If only Marva would answer questions that would help solve this.

When Tess heard the gate creak, she went back up toward Brother Lawrence. “It’s a lovely view from there,” she said, hoping he’d think Vic was enjoying it. But to her dismay, the man ran up the hill, so Tess followed. Vic was peeking under the plastic covering the two sunken areas. As Brother Lawrence hurried down the hill toward Vic, she recognized the voice behind her.

“Abomination!”

Bright Star had materialized from nowhere as usual. No wonder people thought he was more spirit than flesh and blood.

“He just wondered what was growing under that since it is so different from the others,” Tess told him.

“It’s the graves of two blessed infants who have recently passed beyond, and I have county permits allowing us to bury them on our property. Long-established religious groups have their own cemeteries, and we shall too.”

Tess’s mind raced.
Two infants? Or two dead girls? Surely not.

Below, Brother Lawrence was arguing with Vic, who ignored him and came limping back up the hill.

“Bright Star says it’s two infant graves,” she called to him before he reached them. “And he has permission from the county to have them buried there.”

“So I see—about the graves, since they have little stones with angels and lambs and names. All on the up-and-up, Mr. Monson?”

“I could report you for trespassing, sir, but that would have to be to Sheriff McCord, and I know you are a confederate of his.”

“That I am. So why hide the graves?”

“I ordered them covered, not hidden. It upset the grieving mothers and others of the flock to look down at them. It’s like an extra cover in the bed of the earth on a cold day or night.”

More like it upsets this man to have to admit babies could die in his supposedly perfect place, so he hides their graves, Tess thought. She wondered if they were born here or in a hospital.

“Miss Lockwood,” Monson said, turning to Tess. “Your family can certainly spend time with you alone tomorrow, at noon, if you’re available.”

Despite the fact that she’d told Gabe she’d try to help by answering the dispatch phone and covering the front desk until he could get some permanent help, she knew he would understand, and who knew what else she might learn about strange goings-on. “Yes,” she said to him. “I’ll be here.”

The man bowed, glared at Vic and walked away, followed by an out-of-breath but now subdued Brother Lawrence.

When they were back in Vic’s car, he said, “If Gabe wasn’t tied up, I’d phone him right now. I don’t like asking for court orders to exhume graves, but it may come to that. That guy’s arrogant, positive he can get away with anything. Like looking at the mayor, it’s a long shot, but desperate times need—”

“Desperate measures,” she finished for him. “Not Shakespeare this time?” she asked, hoping he’d calm down. His face was red and a pulse beat at the side of his forehead.

“‘Thus do all things conspire against us’ will have to do for Shakespeare right now.”

“But I am starting to recall more things about my captivity. You know I’ve recalled a graveyard view—but surely not that one. It’s true Brice Monson lived on this land years ago in a single house, but even a child wouldn’t mistake those long, plastic covers for tombstones. I remember the scarecrow for smackings, of course, and a back staircase in a house—and I’m sure there was a stag’s head over the fireplace.”

“Good for you and for us, Tess. Now all we need you to remember is a name or a face.”

* * *

Gabe was disheartened and angry. Marva hadn’t given him anything he could use and was insisting he solve “Dane’s dreadful murder.” As if the best defense was a good offense, she’d turned hostile toward him and Tess. Her lawyer had insisted the suicide note had nothing to do with the Cold Creek kidnapper cases. He also continually counseled Marva to “take the Fifth.” The whole situation made Gabe wish he could have a good, stiff belt from a fifth of whiskey, even this early in the morning.

And now he was late heading to the library to hear what Miss Etta had to say about the pistol that killed Dane.

As he headed toward the library, Gabe saw several posters about the search for Sandy he’d help spearhead this afternoon. Jace was at the church helping the civilian organizers lay out grids for the volunteer teams to cover. There was a poster on the library door above an Open sign and one that read Come in and Change Your Life!
If only that was true,
he thought as he opened the door.

Miss Etta was shelving books from a rolling cart as two women he recognized were browsing the shelves. “Good. You came,” Miss Etta whispered when she saw him. “One can’t expect a busy sheriff to be prompt, and that’s quite all right. Would you like some hand sanitizer?” she asked as she walked over to her desk to use it herself. “One can’t be too careful with flu season coming.”

“Ah, sure,” he said, letting her pump some of the cool gel onto his hands. “Thanks for researching about the antique pistol.”

“First of all, please tell me, how is Tess?” she said, taking a book from her desk over to a long wooden table. “Just let me know if you need help, ladies,” she said to the two patrons.

Gabe sat in the chair beside her. The heavy oak furniture all looked antique, though the overhead lighting was modern and bright. There was an air of solidity about the place. As flighty as she seemed sometimes, this woman suited the place. She seemed unchanged over time, the bedrock of the community in a way Reese Owens would never be. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer about Tess, then added, as if to prompt him, “I recommended some books on childhood trauma she’s been reading. I hope they help.”

“I think they have. Some things are coming back, and she’s a lot more steady.”

“Oh, good. She seemed that way at the church service, and she certainly handled getting up in front of all those people. You know, I hate to speak ill of anyone, but I always thought Dane was highly suspect, so perhaps he has meted out his own justice to himself.” She leaned slightly closer. “He liked true crime and murder mysteries, you know.”

“Not exactly proof, but—”

“But with Marva and George Green’s help in the first two abductions—there you go. Dr. Dane Thompson, guilty as your father always believed. Now, here is a picture of that pistol your BCI friend Agent Reingold described to me on the phone. Have I found the correct one?”

“That’s it,” he said, looking closely at the sketch and then the two photos.

“Well, it’s of the same era as a few I own. They came down through my family who founded this area. Elias Falls, born 1785, was my great-great-great-grandfather, a contemporary of Daniel Boone in these parts. No doubt Daniel wandered through southern Ohio.”

Gabe was exhausted, but he tried not to let his eyes glaze over. No wonder kids recalled taking field trips to Miss Etta’s house for her pioneer-days lectures. He barely remembered her mother, Sybil Falls, who must be up in her eighties now and had been a recluse for years. Sybil had married and outlived a man named Vetter, which was Miss Etta’s actual last name, though both she and her mother had always used the prestigious Falls name. Talk about the mayor’s wife coming from Ohio “royalty.” Etta Falls could take her on any day.

“As far as I know, that gun
was
Dane’s,” she said, which made him alert again. “He wouldn’t let me include it in the display we had here because it was his favorite. So, if he did kill himself, I can see why he did it with that one.”

“You’ve been very helpful, Miss Etta.”

“And I have just the book for you,” she said as he rose. “It’s on occupational stress and how to cope with it. I’ll just get it from my desk.”

“I’ll remember that when I have time to read, so—”

His cell sounded. He looked at the display. His office phone.

“Excuse me, Miss Etta. I’ve got to take this, and I thank you again. Sheriff McCord here,” he said as he walked out onto the street.

“It’s Vic, Gabe. I’ve got some good info from going with Tess to the Hear Ye sect, but I also finally got a call back from Reese Owens’s former housekeeper, Ruby Purtle.”

“I’m on my way to the office, on foot. Be right there.”

“Yeah, well, be prepared to get your gear and jump in your vehicle because this woman says Reese Owens has a cabin up on a place called Green Mountain that no one knows about, even his wife. And get this—he fired this housekeeper but gave her a big payoff and a good recommendation, she thinks, just because she heard him ordering furniture for it on the phone. Think we can find it?”

“As heavy as he is, it can’t be far off the single road up there, and I know the area. Yeah, we’ll find it!”

Gabe jogged back to the office. Tess was sitting at the front desk with Peggy. “Just teach her the basics, Peg, and we’ll get some other help in ASAP,” he said, hurrying past them. Adrenaline surged through him as he and Vic grabbed Kevlar vests, guns and clips from the small equipment room.

“I can’t help thinking of this stuff as bomb-squad gear,” Gabe said, double-checking items in his utility belt.

“This could be the break we need. Despite the fact that Reese Owens likes to fight with words, I think it’s wise we go up there like this. If he’s not there himself, he might have a guard for the place—and whatever he’s got stashed there.”

“As much as Marva’s turned into a witch, I’d love to nail Mr. Mayor,” Gabe said.

“And if not, there’s a couple of hidden, child-sized graves Tess and I spotted on the Hear Ye property.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No. Bright Star claims they’re the graves of commune babies who died and says he has permission for a graveyard there. The librarian any help?”

“Yeah, but I probably ticked her off by leaving before she could give me a book on stress.”

“Get me a copy too.”

Gabe looked up to see Tess standing in the hall outside the equipment room. “Miss Etta tried to give me that book for you before,” she said.

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