“My clothes?”
“Evidence.”
“They’re bloodstained from me carrying the woman in. I didn’t do anything to her.”
“No one’s sayin’ you did. Just give me the clothes.”
Gabriel raised one eyebrow but complied and left to fetch them. I could tell he was exasperated. We all were. At last, Knowles dismissed us, but with a command to call if we were going to leave the area.
Gabriel appeared with the clothes, and we watched, helpless, as the forensics guys finished wrapping the couch in moving plastic and took it away. They also took the rug it sat on. I felt as though they took a part of my grandfather’s memory with them.
“Look at this,” Lonna called. She had walked to the front window, and we saw more men were outside gathering up clumps of grass and gravel. First they would photograph them, then everything that could have been touched by Louise was gathered up and placed in a bucket.
“Is this standard procedure?” I asked.
“The photographing, yes,” Lonna told me. “The gravel and grass theft, no. I just don’t understand this.” Her arm brushed mine, and her skin felt clammy.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Just feeling a little washed out. Too much going on right now. And that sleeping pill was strong.”
“Why don’t you go lay down? Sleep off the hangover.”
“Can’t. I’ve got to go interview some more residents. And the mayor.”
“Are you sure? You look like hell.” The pale tint under her olive skin made her look slightly green.
“I’m fine.”
“All right. But at least let me come with you.”
“Sure. It might help to have a second set of ears.”
The wobbly way she walked up the stairs to change shoes made me wonder if she needed an extra set of legs, too.
The mayor of Piney Mountain, now Crystal Pines, lived in one of the newer houses of the subdivision. We arrived just after ten a.m.
“He certainly didn’t suffer a drop in the standard of his living.” I looked around after we rang the doorbell. The house had been built to look like a large 1920s-style bungalow. I remembered that before Crystal Pines, this neighborhood had been a park.
“No doubt.” Lonna gave a low whistle as a uniformed maid answered the door. “You don’t even have one of those.”
“Yet,” I whispered as we were shown into the living room. She smirked.
“Gabriel might have some competition.”
“I doubt that. I’m not into maids.”
For a moment, everything felt like it was right between us again. Then Peter Bowman walked in.
Lonna took a quick breath, and I felt what my grandfather used to call the “Stony Joanie” look cross my face. He said when I got uncomfortable, I would retreat behind a mask, and it was impossible to tell what I was feeling or thinking. When I grew into adulthood, others found it to be quite intimidating. Now I hoped it covered the rage I felt at Peter’s threats from two very long days ago as well as the anger and frustration from the erosion of my friendship with Lonna, which I blamed him for.
“Ms. Marconi, Doctor Fisher, please have a seat. Mayor Franz will be with you shortly.”
“And why does he feel the need to have a lawyer present?” I asked as I settled into a plush armchair and crossed my legs. “Is he feeling guilty today?”
A condescending smile curled the left corner of Peter’s patrician mouth. “I was here working with the mayor on some paperwork for the new town hall.”
“What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?”
“It has termites, mold and structural issues. There are documents currently stored in it that are irreplaceable, so we’re working on building a new place for them before we tear that old wreck down.”
My heart skipped a beat. Tear down the Town Hall? I remembered walking by it with my grandfather and eating picnic lunches on the front steps. How could they take away another one of my memories? I blinked to keep the tears from forming in my eyes.
“What kind of documents?”
“The birth, death and marriage records for the town, for one thing. Some of them are so old they can’t be moved too often.”
“What about bringing in trained document restoration experts?” asked Lonna. “Surely the town would be invested enough in its history to pay someone to come out and take care of its records, especially since genealogy is now such a popular hobby.”
“It would cost too much to do it right now, and the town council doesn’t want to send the records away.”
“Yet they can afford a whole new building?”
“They can justify the expense if it’s for more than one purpose. It will be Crystal Pines’ first multi-use facility with the Town Hall, Library and administrative offices.” Peter shrugged. “That’s how government works, ladies.”
“So you’re tearing down the library, too?”
“It’s been closed for a few years now due to moisture and mold problems, and the books are in storage.”
“It doesn’t seem that Mayor Franz is hurting too much.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“I was well-compensated for my land when Crystal Pines came in. I’m Lee Franz,” said the tall man with sandy red hair and freckles. He held out his hand and shook mine with a firm, confident grip. He looked to be in his fifties, and his blue eyes sparkled like those of someone who shared an inside joke with the world. He wore an impeccably tailored white shirt and gray trousers.
“Joanie Fisher,” I introduced myself, my cheeks hot.
“Ah, yes, the town heiress. We sorely miss your grandfather. He kept up with a lot of the town history for us.”
“This is my friend Lonna, a social worker from Little Rock.”
“I assume you weren’t here to talk to Mayor Franz about family records?” asked Peter, now in full lawyer mode. Lee Franz sat on the leather sofa, and Lonna and I reclaimed our seats in the armchairs.
“Yes, er, no,” said Lonna. “We’re here to talk about the missing children.”
“I get telephone calls every day about that from worried townspeople,” Lee told her. “I wish I knew something that could help them. And you.”
“Natives of Piney Mountain, right?” I asked. “Not the Crystal Pines newcomers.”
He rubbed his temples. “They think the new development has stirred up an evil mountain spirit that wants to take revenge for being disturbed.”
“An evil mountain spirit?” The hair on the back of my neck pricked just thinking about the cry I’d heard the night before.
“The Ozarks have several legendary monsters. One of them, the Gowrow, was supposedly common up here in the 1800s.”
“What’s a Gowrow?”
“A twenty-foot-long lizard with tusks. It liked riverbeds and caves.”
“And what do you think about this monster, or at least the possibility that it’s the one snatching your children?”
“We can’t seem to find any other explanation.”
“What about wolves?” I asked, my heart beating fast.
“The Arkansas red wolf and the coyote are probably too small to carry off a child of nine or ten. Besides, we’d at least have something left to find. They wouldn’t just vanish.”
I shivered at the gruesome thought, and the memory of Louise, battered and burned, came into my head.
