Lou Lou poked out her bottom lip in a pout and Dana Jo snatched a packet of goldfish crackers, ripped open the package and handed them to her daughter. “Here, baby, have a snack on the way home.”
Her daughter dug into the bag of crackers, the playground temporarily forgotten. If only Dana Jo could forget, but panic still had a stranglehold on her.
Reminding herself that her little girl was safe now, Dana Jo closed the rear car door and slid into the driver’s seat.
But when she glanced back at the playground, she saw a dark figure staring at her from the edge of the woods. Her chest tightened, and a chill rippled up her spine.
Was that her paranoia again? Ever since she’d been abducted from her car and left for dead in the woods, she searched faces everywhere she went, wondering if she was looking at her attacker. If he was watching her. Coming back to finish what he’d started.
She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to distinguish the man’s face, but couldn’t see it.
A second later, he disappeared back into the woods.
But fear choked her. He had been there when Lou Lou was running toward the woods.
Was he lurking at the park to steal her baby?
FORTY-SEVEN
Mystic Library
Tilly Higgins introduced herself to the librarian, Denise Wingate, a tall well-dressed woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties with a stylish bob. She looked nothing like the cliched version people pictured of a librarian when they heard the job title.
“I work for theAtlanta Journal-Constitutionand I’m researching this town and the local folklore, especially on Midnight Ridge,” Tilly said. “I’m hoping you have time to help me.”
“Actually, I haven’t been in town that long,” Denise said. “I can point you to some newspaper archives. But the person you really want to talk to is Ester Finch. She’s lived around here all her life and is the town historian.”
“That would be perfect,” Tilly said. “Is she here?”
“Yes, the library is like her second home. I’ll show you to her office.”
Tilly thanked her and followed the woman through a door and into an office piled high with books, notepads, a computer and old-fashioned metal file cabinets. Unlike Denise, Ester wassmall and hunched over slightly, most likely from osteoporosis. Her silver hair was swept into a low bun at the nape of her neck with thin strands hanging loose. Wire-rimmed glasses were perched on her nose, her forehead wrinkled as she peered at a folder on her cluttered desk.
Tilly introduced herself and explained the reason for her visit.
“Yes, I’ve read some of your articles,” Ester said. “I really enjoyed the last one about the graveyard girls.”
“Thanks,” Tilly said. “That town was interesting and full of small-town secrets.” Secrets that were personal and painful for her. In fact, she never intended to return to Brambletown.
Tilly sank into the chair across from Ester’s desk. “The librarian mentioned that you’ve lived here all your life and that you’re the town historian. I’m interested in the history and folklore of the area.”
Ester’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Sure, I love talking about it.” She rose, poured two cups of coffee from the counter behind her desk, then handed one to Tilly. Ester cradled her own cup and blew on the coffee as she settled her bony body into her seat again.
“Do you mind if I record our conversation for accuracy in my story?” Tilly asked.
Ester shook her head. “No problem.” Ester tilted her head in thought. “What do you want to know, child?”
Tilly smiled. “Tell me about yourself and your family, Ester.”
Ester clicked her teeth. “Well, I grew up here, but my folks have long passed. I was married early on, but my husband ran off with the church secretary.” She tsked. “That was a long time ago and water under the bridge.”
“I’m sorry, Ester. That must have been difficult.”
Ester rubbed at an age spot on her hand. “At the time, yes, but the good Lord helped me through it and I’m proud to dothat for others. That’s why I help lead the Believers. We’ve been holding prayer vigils for that missing girl.”
“You sound like a compassionate leader, Ester.” Tilly patted Ester’s arm. “Now tell me more about the town.”
“Well, from the time I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I hung out in my mama’s beauty shop. I swept up hair and such, so I heard a lot of gossip about the locals. Some of it was right juicy stuff.”
