“It’s not your place, Mrs. Thorne.”
She nods. “It is, Joe, and you know it.” A silent pause fills the air before Mom continues, “As superintendent of Blue Gil schools, the safety of my students is my place. If you need people to man the phones to take in tips, ask. If you need people to follow leads, recruit. I don’t care what it takes. I want to tell Julie that we did all we could.”
Sheriff Manes lets out a breath and nods to my mom. “I’ll need the gymnasium. I think we should suspend classes for another day and keep our children home.”
“I disagree.”
We all watch our mother.
“Class is where they need to be,” she says. “Each boy and girl needs to be present and accounted for. No more school days canceled. Many parents will be at work. You and I both know that the kids, especially the high school ones, won’t stay home. Let the community know that everyone is being watched for their own good. It’s getting too late tonight. Send word. I’ll contact the custodians to set up the gymnasium. You may have it tomorrow for an announcement. Let everyone know now so they can make arrangements, and anyone who can attend should be at Blue Gil High School gymnasium tomorrow at the time you choose.”
“I need to speak to the Thompsons,” Sheriff Manes says.
“I know Maggie,” Mom responds. “She won’t want anyone else to die.”
“There’s no guarantee that will happen,” he says.
“Is there any guarantee it won’t?” I ask.
He offers a quick nod. “Ten a.m.”
“Let me walk you to the door,” Dad says as he steps away from all of us.
Mom walks into the kitchen as the three of us siblings sit in stunned silence.
“Dead,” Liv finally says. “Oh shit, Marty is dead.”
“Why rape Julie?” I ask.
“It wasn’t rape,” Ollie quickly responds.
“Sexually assault,” I correct.
“And nothing to Marty,” Liv says, thinking aloud.
“Plastic bag,” Dad says as he returns. “Joe said she was found with a plastic bag over her head and secured around her throat. She suffocated. They’re doing tests for drugs and to determine time of death.”
“Where did they find her?” Ollie asks.
“In a ravine—a swale—beside County Road 62, between here and Lawton.”
I never heard the exact location, so I didn’t make the connection. Mom did. She walks back into the living room with a wine glass in her trembling hand. “County Road 62?”
Dad nods.
“That’s where Craig was found.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
The online data involving sex crimes for the state of Michigan is years out of date—nine years on one site. Nine years. My sister was eight years old when the available information was compiled. Being as Echo mentioned the outsiders; I also checked the data for Indiana; after all, the state border is only thirty minutes south. Indiana is much closer than, say, the UP.
Indiana’s sex crime register is more recent; however, the information is limited. There are also newer crime trackers available for each city and neighborhood. Those are beneficial in mapping registered offenders. However, I specifically want to know about accusations, hospital reports, and police reports involving sexual assault with inanimate objects. That isn’t as easy to pinpoint.
My hand moves across the notebook as I continue taking notes. New notations and an attempt to recreate what I thought I wrote yesterday. It’s as though I wrotewith invisible ink. My notebook was where I left it, but my more recent scribble was missing.
I concentrate on what I find.
