There it was!
The green John Deere harvester sat outside the barn next to a wagon hitched to a tractor. The wagon was full of shelled corn. She recalled it well, although she must have turned it into a monster of nightmares later. She viewed the elevated, glassed-in cab where the driver sat; the huge double wheels with yellow metal hubs; and the eight extensions thrust out in front that went between the rows so the cornstalks and cobs would feed in to be cut and shelled while the stalks were shredded for silage. She could see now why she thought of them as teeth when she was small, but at least she had clearly recalled something from the day she was taken.
She knew for sure that Aaron Kurtz and a machine like this one—or maybe this very one—had been in the field that day. So, had he seen someone or something amiss he had covered up for some reason? She knew he had been questioned about that years ago. Or had he done something he didn’t want known?
“You don’t listen, do you?” came a hard voice behind her. “Or can’t obey orders for your own good.”
She jumped and spun around, expecting Aaron. It was Gabe. Why hadn’t she heard him drive in? She realized then she’d been hearing in her head the sounds of the reaper—this grim reaper—when here it sat, still and quiet.
“There’s no law against my looking at this,” she told Gabe.
“How about trespassing?”
“They wouldn’t press charges—”
“How about impeding an investigation when I told you not to come here alone?”
He took her arm and steered her toward her car.
“Gabe, let go! Your presence will tip him off that something’s wrong.”
“Something is wrong! You are not formally on this case. We don’t know who’s responsible. Someone may get spooked or desperate if you’re running around here and—”
“Oh, Sheriff, hello!” a woman’s voice called out from the back porch of the farmhouse. “Is there a problem?”
“Hi, Mrs. Kurtz. No, there’s no problem. I was just telling Tess Lockwood—she’s a preschool teacher—that I thought a field trip for little kids to see some big, noisy farm machinery wasn’t very smart, that she ought to stick to taking them to the firehouse to see an engine. Besides, they’d get a lecture from the fire guys about fire safety.”
Tess was amazed at how quickly and smoothly he’d come up with those lies. Wasn’t the job of a law enforcement officer to deal in the truth?
Wanda Kurtz came closer, wiping her hands on an apron. “Tess Lockwood,” she said, squinting into the afternoon sun. “Why, I heard you were back. And you’re welcome here anytime. Are you helping teach the religious sect children down the road? Of course, we’d be happy to have them visit, if that’s what you mean. I could have Aaron cut one of our back fields into a real easy maze for them to run though. He’s not here right now, though. Had a doctor’s appointment in Chillicothe.”
Tess hemmed and hawed a bit to get out of the corner Gabe had backed her into. He might be angry with her, but she was angry too. She quickly said goodbye and started for her car. As she got in, she could see Gabe was showing Mr. Mean to Wanda Kurtz. What was he thinking? If Aaron was somehow guilty, wouldn’t that tip him off?
Talk about a corn maze! She felt she was running through one, searching for someone or something hiding barely out of reach. She just hoped her desperation didn’t trap her in a dead end.
* * *
Drinking some wine from the last bottle she’d brought from home and pacing from her kitchen to the living room, Tess was even more furious when Gabe didn’t call or stop by to explain why he was showing the scarecrow to Wanda Kurtz. What had he learned? She knew she should tell him about the girl’s screams at the Hear Ye compound. But she had to admit there was no way Brice Monson, however controlling and strange he was, could abduct a girl and keep her there with all those people around. And Monson had mentioned that Gabe had visited there, so he must be watching the compound too, and Gabe hadn’t shared that with her. She thought that he’d wanted her help, but now he was critical and cold.
She wondered if she should get a Realtor to take over selling the house so she could get out of town faster. Yet, she’d started to harbor the hope that not only could she help Gabe solve the abductions, but that she might get her memories back too—and be able to deal with them.
She considered her options now, since Gabe seemed to have turned hostile. She could call Char for some of her wise and warm sisterly advice. Call her father out west and try to learn if he knew something he hadn’t told anyone about her being taken. They were her personal contacts, so Gabe could not object to family phone calls. She had to do something to keep from doing nothing, from just worrying and getting more upset. What time would it be in New Mexico and on the West Coast now? Char was usually out in some traditional hogan working with Navajo children, and Tess didn’t want to talk to her dad’s wife—she’d never met the woman—if he was at work.
She looked at the three library books Miss Etta had brought, which were piled in the rocking chair by the window. Maybe she should take another look at them to see if that triggered more memories. If she remembered anything, she’d just call Vic Reingold and tell him instead of Gabe.
She knew she was absolutely, stark-raving crazy to have feelings for the sheriff, the son of the man who couldn’t solve her case years ago. And even when she was so angry with him and couldn’t wait to get out of Cold Creek, it was insanity to want to see him. It was terrifying. She shivered every time he looked at her. And when he’d kissed her, she’d felt she was not only looking at a waterfall, but going over it.
* * *
Gabe felt silly walking into the tanning salon Marva Green managed. It was feminine inside, but that figured. He couldn’t think of too many guys around here who would patronize a place like this. Probably not many of the local women would use it either. Not that the Lake Azure women weren’t local now, he reminded himself. It was just that, his having grown up here in the foothills of Appalachia, it was sometimes hard to get used to the more affluent lifestyle of the newer residents. But then, the Lake Azure folks had voted strong for him at their polling place at the community lodge, so he had no beef with them, unless they broke the law.
“Why, Sheriff McCord, what brings you here?” Marva asked, looking up from reading a magazine. Maybe it was a downtime for her, but that was good. He didn’t need anyone but Wanda and Marva seeing this scarecrow right now. He was hoping it indirectly roiled the waters with Aaron or Dane, if they were involved with the kidnappings. He wanted to get someone real nervous so they’d make a rash move or a mistake and come out of hiding, though that was a risk too. He wanted them to make a move toward him, not Tess.
“I just came from Wanda Kurtz’s, and she says you and my mother used to make these and sell them at Mason’s Mill,” he said, pulling the scarecrow out of the sacks. Come on, Mr. Mean, he thought, rattle someone’s cage besides Tess’s.
Marva gave a little gasp, then smiled. “Why, yes, we did, back in the old days when a job at an upscale tanning salon in Cold Creek would have been like something from that old TV show The Twilight Zone. The three of us cut and stitched those little outfits, stuffed the bodies and sold them at the mill and split the money. I wouldn’t be surprised if more than one of your Christmas presents was bought with our profits when you were a boy. But why are you asking?”
“I can’t say more than that it’s part of the kidnapping investigation.”
“Why, how can that be? But...” She paused and took a deep breath. “If it helps to clear Dane of the suspicion some folks still have of him, just because that cornfield joins his property with the Lockwood house, I’ll be glad to help in any way I can. And thank you, Sheriff, for not rushing to bring him in or question him right away as your father did, because Dane has absolutely nothing to do with those horrible disappearances of any of those girls!”