The Curse Оf Hollister House

Monday

After Stella’s mutilated body had been found, a dark cloud of fear and grief settled over the small community of Foxtail Lake. I’d only been a child and Gracie had shielded me from the worst of it, but I remembered the quiet whispers and apprehensive glances that had been passed between the adults as they shared their theories as to who might have murdered the young girl and whether or not the killer would seek out another. I remembered the pulled blinds, locked doors, and early curfews. I remembered the terror that had replaced the open thresholds and friendly exchanges that at one time had defined our little town.

I knew the news that Tracy’s remains had been found would be all over town by today. I was older now and understood the threat one horrible death presented to the masses. I mentally prepared myself for the same dark cloud of fear and grief to greet me as I headed toward Nottaway General Store, but of course, as I’ve said many times in the recent past, what you prepare for and what you are greeted with are not always one and the same.

“Is that Callie Collins?” screeched Nora Nottaway, half owner of the general store along with her husband, Ned.

“Yes, it’s me,” I hugged the plump, gray-haired woman who had been a fixture in town for as long as I could remember.

“I heard you were back, but I told Ned that I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. How are you, girl?”

I wanted to say, “perfectly horrible,” but settled on “fine.”

“I bet your aunt Gracie is over the moon to have you back in town. It’s been a while. I know she missed you something awful.”

“It has been a while,” I agreed, feeling bad about not coming home for a visit before this.

“Are you staying for a while, or do you have to get back to your fancy life in New York?”

“I’m actually planning an extended stay.”

Nora offered me a look of sympathy. “I heard about the accident.”

I wouldn’t exactly call being slammed into by a drunk driver an accident, but okay.

“Gracie mentioned that you were going to have to take a break from performing while your hand heals. You know how much Ned and I care about you. We’ve both been praying for you.”

I swallowed hard. “Thank you. I appreciate that. And I’m not simply taking some time off from my career.” I looked down at my hand. “I’m afraid my career is pretty much over.”

Nora patted my arm. “I’m so sorry, dear. I know how much your music meant to you. Do you have any idea what you might do next?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been offered a teaching opportunity in New York, but I felt like I needed some time to think things through before deciding.”

“I don’t blame you one bit. Taking some time for a bit of peace and quiet away from the hustle and bustle of the big city will be just the thing. I’ve only visited New York once, but I found the noise from the traffic and whatnot to be so overwhelming that I couldn’t think straight there.”

“You get used to the noise once you are there for a while. In fact, it is almost comforting. Being back at Foxtail Lake where it is so completely quiet at night has made it hard to sleep.”

Nora chuckled. “I guess there are those who like the quiet and those who don’t. You always did seem to gravitate toward the big city.” Nora hugged me again, almost smothering me to her ample bosom. “Gosh, I’m glad to have you back.” Nora looked toward the door that led to a short hallway that I knew led to the back room. “Ned,” she called loudly. “Come on out here and say hi to Callie.”

I spent the next twenty minutes catching up with Ned and Nora and everyone who came into the store who I’d known from before. I’d been away for fourteen years, so in a way, it was amazing to me how quickly I began to feel like I’d never left. I supposed that was the way things were in the small town of Foxtail Lake. Those who left seemed to go right out of high school, but those who stayed tended to stay for a lifetime. I never thought I’d be one of the ones to stay, but I had to admit there was something comforting about being in the midst of people who knew you way back when.

“I guess you heard that Cass has a suspect in custody who he has reason to believe might be responsible for Tracy Porter’s death,” a woman named Lettie Harper informed the group who’d gathered to welcome me home.

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.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. Do you know where Naomi moved once she took the shelter private?”

“The old Johnson farm.” Aunt Gracie had told me that Naomi had not only stayed on with the shelter but had taken it over and privatized it.

“That’s right.” Cass shuffled some of the paperwork on his desk. I couldn’t help but notice that the tension around his eyes had returned. “So, you are here to discuss the Tracy Porter case.”

I nodded. “I’m sure you must realize how eerily similar her murder is to Stella’s.”

Cass looked me in the eye. “I do realize that, and no, I don’t think the man I have in custody is actually the one who killed Tracy. To be honest, the whole thing is just too neat. In my experience, if someone is going to go to all the trouble to kidnap a young girl and then kill her in a violent and unusual manner, he isn’t going to be so sloppy as to leave a load of evidence behind.”

“So why arrest the guy if you don’t think he’s guilty?”

“The problem I’m faced with is that physical evidence was found at the burial site that links to Buck Darwin. Buck has been hanging around since before Tracy went missing, and when I interviewed him about the items, he was either unable or unwilling to provide an explanation for where he was at the time Tracy was believed to have been abducted, or why things like a T-shirt with his DNA on it was found so close to the location of her temporary grave. I know the evidence suggests that Darwin is our guy, and while I normally am one to follow the evidence to its natural end, in this case, I believe it may have been planted. I told the sheriff that I didn’t think Darwin was the one despite the evidence, but he is being pressured by the mayor to make an arrest, and so far I can’t prove Darwin wasn’t involved in Tracy’s death, so I had no choice but to bring him in.”

“I see. Doesn’t whoever is mayor now want you to find the real killer?”

Cass ran a hand through his thick dark hair. I could see the pain and indecision in his eyes. “Frank White is the current mayor, and he just wants the case closed. The entire community just wants the case closed. People are scared, and the consensus is that people will continue to be scared until the killer is behind bars.”

“I don’t really get that line of reasoning, because having the wrong person behind bars shouldn’t make anyone feel safe, but I guess I understand why you arrested the guy. Are you still digging around, or is the real killer going to get off scot-free?”

“I’m still digging around, but Mayor White has already issued a press release telling everyone that Tracy’s killer has been found. Based on all the speculation and gossip going around, I don’t think anyone believes that, but White is sticking to the story.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Maybe, but there are folks in a position to make my life miserable who don’t want me to continue to investigate the murder, so I’m being forced to tread lightly. The mayor has only been in town for a few years, and the sheriff just transferred from the Denver office six years ago. Neither man was here when Stella died. If they had been, they might think differently.”

I felt my stomach churn at the memory of what had happened to Stella. I remembered her smile and the way she’d always known exactly what to say when I was feeling down. I didn’t even remember what we’d argued about that caused her to walk home alone that day, but the odds were it had been my fault. Even I had to admit I’d been a testy kid, with strong opinions and very little patience. Most of the arguments I’d entered into had originated with me. “We need to get this guy. The real killer. For Stella. We need to make him pay for what he did back then and, apparently, what he is continuing to do.”

“We will. One way or another, we will.”