“I don’t want to think that it was placed there by the killer.”
Keith reaches across the console and squeezes my leg. “Jill, if that’s the case, I’m sorry I took you out there. Keep your doors locked.” When I look over at him—because up until that second, I hadn’t been concerned about my safety—he adds, “Maybe you should stay with your folks.”
“No.” It’s a quick gut reaction. I’d go back to California before I moved into their place.
Keith pulls his hand back.
“I’m not going to run home to my family if they don’t want me. The cottage has locks, and besides, you’re just two doors away.”
“Keep my number on speed dial. I’ll be there.”
“Thanks,” I say sincerely.
I turn away to peer out the side window, now opened a few inches, allowing fresh country air to enter. The faster we drive, the more the breeze blows the free strands of my hair away from my face. I close my eyes to the refreshing light wind. When I open them, there is a large tractor tilling a field. The round disks on the contraption pulled behind the tractor are overturning the remnants of last year’s crop. From what’s still uncultivated, last year’s crop was corn.
Copious amounts of feed corn are grown in this geographical region. While the name would suggest feed for livestock, it’s also used in ethanol production and in manufactured goods, such as corn cereal, corn starch,corn oil, and corn syrup, all for human consumption. Versatility alone makes it a worthwhile and usually profitable crop, no matter the state of the economy.
The large tractor reminds me of an episode of one of the programs we aired last season. It was set in a small rural town. I don’t think we identified the state; however, by the way we made it look, it could have been here. The episode opened as a farmer began to prepare his field for crops, only to find human remains. The soft tissues were basically decayed and eaten away. Our team of actors playing investigators of a special federal unit solved the case by analyzing the skeleton—the bones and teeth—and matching the gender, height, weight, and dental records to missing persons reports. Of course, on television, cases are solved in an hour.
Real life isn’t as neat and tidy.
“Remember our theory about the plastic bag?” I ask.
“That the killer wants others to know he removed the eyes, not that they were bird food.”
A sickening answer, but on point. “We mentioned that the killer was probably in the gymnasium yesterday morning.”
“If he’s still in town,” Keith responds.
“Do you think it’s an outsider?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “To me, everyone is suspect. I just can’t figure out why now. What is prompting this criminal activity? Does it have something to do with Craig?”
I nod. “I wonder the same thing. I remember thinking that if Craig’s death wasn’t accidental, the killer was at his funeral. It’s stereotypical for a reason.”
“Data shows that thrill killers are more likely to attend their victim’s funeral.” Keith looks my way. “They also revisit the scene of the crime or dump site.”
“Or watch it from a hidden camera,” I add.
“That’s why I suggested your folks’ place. If the killer is watching, he saw you there.”
I think about what we saw. “Do you think that swale is where they both died?”
We’re now in Blue Gil village limits. People are walking along the sidewalk, coming and going from the local hardware store, library, and Dollar Store. There’s a line of cars waiting their turn at the bank’s ATM. “It’s like nothing happened,” I say.
“Everyone deals with this stuff differently.”
“Shouldn’t they be afraid, afraid it will happen to one of them?”
Keith turns and grins. “I just suggested, twice, that you stay with your folks, and the first time, you nearly bit my head off. Obviously, not everyone is concerned.”
“That’s different. I’m not the demographic.”
“Do we know what the demographic is?”
“If we’re just talking about Julie and Marty, it’s teenage girls.”
As Keith pulls into the Walleye Tavern parking lot, he stops two spaces from my rental car. He turns, his brow furrowed and his brown eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “I have a partial answer for your question about place of death. For Marty, I’d say no. I believe she was purposely dumped near where Craig was found. As for Craig, I’m undecided. As we said, he could have diedupstream. We know for sure that the swale is where they were both found.”
