Кэти Дэйли - The Curse Of Hollister House

Ah, the fearful whispering I’d been expecting.

“I hadn’t heard,” Ned, a tall, thin man answered, leaning in and lowering his voice just a bit. “Do you know who it is?”

“A drifter who has been staying in the campgrounds where Tracy’s body was found. I can’t say that I caught his name, but from what I understand, the guy has several arrests for vagrancy and that sort of thing.”

I frowned. “That doesn’t seem right. If this man who was just passing through killed Tracy, her death wouldn’t be linked to Stella’s. Given the fact that both girls appeared to have been mauled, and both were found buried in shallow graves, it seems to me there is a link that should be looked at, at the very least.”

Lettie shrugged. “I guess Cass might have considered the fact that Tracy’s death is similar to Stella’s. I suppose you’ll have to ask him if he found evidence that the two aren’t related. He’s been around for as long as anyone, so I would think the similarities would have stood out to him. Maybe he has a reason for suspecting this drifter.”

“Maybe,” I said, all the while thinking that perhaps it was time to stop by the sheriff’s office to let Cass know I was home.

“I heard they are going to close the school for a week or so,” Ned offered. “Folks are scared to let their children out of their sight.”

“Seems to me the time to have closed the school would have been after Tracy went missing. If the killer planned to take another child, it makes sense that he would have done so right away, not wait until the body was found,” Lettie added.

“If you ask me, there needs to be better monitoring of the kids who walk to and from school,” Nettie said. “It’s a different world out there nowadays. I’m afraid the days of leaving your doors unlocked and your windows open have come to an end.”

As the group spoke, I could almost see the dark cloud of fear growing and expanding. Based on what had happened in the past, I knew the fear would spread like an infectious disease until the entire community was strangled by the darkness. I’d had enough darkness in my life lately and was about to excuse myself and move on when the conversation seemed to drift toward the upcoming Harvest Festival, which was held during the last weekend in October. I felt the dark cloud dissipate just a bit as I remembered how much fun the event had been when I was a child.

Every year a traveling carnival rolled into town and set up in the field on the edge of the park. The town used the event as a fund-raiser and offered hayrides, pumpkin carving, a kiddie carnival and maze, and even a haunted barn. I wasn’t sure the event was set up exactly the same now, but I found I was almost as excited to find out as I had been when I was a kid. Riding the tilt-a-whirl or eating corn dogs drizzled with mustard had not been the sort of thing that had been part of my life for a very long time. When I’d left Foxtail Lake, I’d been eager to shed my small-town upbringing, so hanging out down by the lake and attending community events had become a thing of the past. As an adult, I’d set aside any fun I might otherwise have had in favor of long hours practicing the piano in pursuit of my dream.

After leaving the general store, I headed down Main toward the sheriff’s office. I couldn’t be certain that Cass would be in, or that he’d have time to speak to me even if he was, but I figured it didn’t hurt to pop in and see what happened. Looking back, I really wasn’t sure why Cass and I had drifted apart. We’d been friends since the first grade, and we’d become even closer after Stella died. When I left for New York, we vowed to stay in touch, and we had, for a while, but at some point, our daily phone conversations turned into weekly ones, and then monthly texts, before fading away completely.

I liked to think I was the cool and sophisticated sort, having lived and worked in the Big Apple and survived. Well, at least I’d survived until recently, but as I approached the local sheriff’s office, I couldn’t help but notice that my heart rate had quickened and my hands had begun to sweat. Cass and I had been friends for a long time, and I had no reason to believe that anything had changed, but I still couldn’t help but feel nervous. The interior of the old brick building was both dark and cool. I didn’t recognize the woman sitting behind the counter, so I introduced myself and asked if Deputy Wylander was in. She smiled politely and told me to take a seat, and she would see if he was available. I did as instructed, but I couldn’t help but notice the territorial look she sent me when asking me to wait. If this woman thought I was somehow a threat to whatever she had going on with Cass, she was dead wrong. When it came to romance, I wasn’t interested in that sort of a relationship with anyone.

Looking around the room, I had to admit the place looked cleaner and a lot more organized than it was the last time I’d been here. The Foxtail Lake Sheriff’s Office was a satellite, usually housing three or four deputies. The sheriff had his office about sixty miles away in the county seat and rarely made an appearance in our little town, preferring to let whichever deputy was presently in charge run the small office up on the mountain. When Deputy Quinby had been in charge, the little place was shabby and cluttered, but it looked as if Cass had not only cleaned things up but had put a coat of paint on the walls as well.

“Callie.” Cass opened his arms to me when he walked into the room, bringing a scowl to the face of his receptionist. “I heard you were back. I’ve been meaning to get out to your aunt’s to say hi, but things have been busy.”

“I heard about the murder,” I said, getting right to the point. “In fact, I wanted to talk to you about that. If you have a few minutes, that is.”

Cass smiled. “I always have a few minutes for you.” He turned to the woman who’d greeted me. “I’ll be in my office and don’t want to be disturbed unless it is a real emergency.”

“Sure.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m going to assume that you and the woman in the reception area are an item.” I said after Cass indicated I should have a seat across from him.

“Gwen. Her name is Gwen, and no, we aren’t an item,” Cass denied. “We did go out a couple of times, which was a mistake, but that was it. It was all very casual.”

“Are you sure she knows you aren’t dating? She gave me a territorial glare and exposed her claws the minute I walked in the door and introduced myself.”

Cass frowned, creating a crease between his heavy brows. “I guess I might need to have a talk with her. Later. Right now, I want to hear about you. I heard what happened. I’m so very, very sorry.”

“Honestly, I don’t want to talk about me or the accident that ended my career. At least not right now. Maybe we can catch up sometime when you’re off-duty.”

“I still volunteer at the shelter twice a week. Maybe you want to come with me, like old times.”

“I’d love to.” When Cass and I were in high school, one of the requirements for graduation was doing community service. Cass and I had decided to volunteer at the local animal shelter. The director of the then country run facility needed help exercising the animals, so two afternoons a week he and I and a third classmate named Naomi Potter, would show up and take out as many dogs as we had time to walk. That had been a long time ago, and things had changed. I was sort of surprised Cass was still doing it. “When do you volunteer?”

Cass relaxed back into his chair. It seemed obvious to me that he enjoyed working with the animals as much as he always had. “Tuesday and Friday afternoons when I can. If you want to meet me there tomorrow at four o’clock, we can walk the dogs and catch up at the same time.”