Page 65 of They Say a Girl Died Here

Most of the notes in Bonnie’s report were basic—given how quickly Michael Cairns died afterward, taking the blame—but one line stood out. No autopsy required. It had been signed off by the coroner, who was of course Dr. Burdett. Why wouldn’t he want one done? A naked girl murdered. Of course he should have ordered an autopsy. Bonnie’s mom had said there’d been one. They must have lied to her. Anna looked back down at the file. She’d expected to find evidence to prove Bonnie’s pregnancy, but the evidence was actually in the absence of evidence. The lack of an autopsy told a story of its own. The doc’s collusion with the sheriff.

She sat back in the chair, staring out at the night. The sheriff and Dr. Burdett went way back to when the doc treated him for all those long months when he was a kid. So how would the doc have felt when the sheriff came to him, begging him for help? She played it through in her mind, just like she had with Bonnie’s murder. Dr. Burdett thinks the sheriff’s a good man. So maybe when they find Bonnie’s body, the sheriff tells him about the affair. Tells him about the pregnancy. How bad it will be for him if that came out, because of course he didn’t kill her, and it’s obvious from the bashed heads and the soap and the cuts in their backs that both Bonnie and Lila were killed by the same man, and that man isn’t the sheriff.

Dr. Burdett believed the best in people. He’d have believed him. Yes, it could have played out like that. And before the doc had time to rethink his choices, Michael Cairns was shot, there was evidence against him, and the case was closed. The doc had no reason to draw attention to the sheriff’s mistakes. Why ruin the man’s life?

Anna’s cigarette was down to the filter and she ground it out under her Converse. So the sheriff, now somewhere having a romantic dinner with his wife, had to have murdered Bonnie. He was sleeping with her, she was pregnant, the last place she was seen was where they used to meet, and then suddenly a serial killer takes her out? Too coincidental. That left her with one more new piece of information.

If Bonnie wasn’t murdered by a serial killer, then Lila probably wasn’t either. And if the sheriff was having a night at home with his poor wife tonight, then it was Lila’s killer she needed to be afraid of, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t the dead Michael Cairns.

If Cairns had killed Lila but not Bonnie, why would he have come back to Harper’s Creek for more seasonal work? There were plenty of other farming towns with more work available, and far enough away that if another young woman turned up dead in a cornfield, there wouldn’t be any links to Lila. No, she could understand why Michael Cairns had run in the aftermath of Bonnie’s death. All those pictures on his phone and he was clearly a bad guy, so tongues would no doubt have been wagging about him at the diner and The Shamrock, so he must have figured the police would look at him at some point, but it wasn’t like they were actively chasing him. Whatever the reason he robbed that store, it didn’t have to do with Bonnie’s death. Bonnie’s death was personal, so logic dictated that Lila’s was too. Personal, and then made to look like the work of some kind of psycho.

Anna looked over at the empty chair. “Who murdered Lila, Jamie?” She waited for an answer on the whisper of a breeze. “Who murdered you?” There was nothing but the buzzing of the flies and her own breathing. Jamie was gone. There were no ghosts. If there were answers to be found, she’d have to find them herself.

She needed to get back home soon. Grandma wanted her out of the house for her own safety, but she couldn’t leave the old woman alone all night. She’d bolt the door again. Maybe lock them both in Grandma’s room overnight. Although the first floor was the easiest to break into. She looked back down at the photo on the top of the notes, Lila smiling out at her. It was the same picture that was on her headstone. Hair up all pretty like a movie star, bare shoulders, the red patterned scarf draped just below their curves and dropping at her arms.

She sat up straight as if she’d been plugged directly into the bulb overhead, her whole body fizzing, electric. The scarf. She knew where she’d seen that scarf before. Everything fell into place. She leaped back up onto her feet and grabbed the scooter.

79

The wind was whipping up, and Anna went as fast as the scooter would take her, leaning into the bends out of town and onto the uneven roads toward the farmlands. By the time she reached the lane down to Melissa’s, she was coated in the dust of dead crops and sticky with the moisture carried in the hot, angry air. The battery alert on the scooter was flashing to recharge when she stopped, but she left the headlight on anyway as she stared up at the scarecrow, her breath raw in her chest. There it was, the ends flapping in the breeze—Lila’s scarf. The scarf she’d been wearing the night she died.

Anna glanced toward the house, at the lights bright in the windows, and her heart crept into her mouth. It was too close for comfort. He was too close for comfort. She stepped into the wheat field, the crops rustling and whispering as if sending a message that there was an intruder in their midst, and forced herself forward, fighting the fear that they’d close up behind her and she’d be lost in here forever. It was a childish fear. Crops were just crops. All the monsters were human. She got her phone out, set the flash, and took some pictures. They made her shiver. The looming stuffed man wearing a dead girl’s scarf, out on display so anyone could see it. The Farmhand.

Why in hell had she deleted Todd’s number? This was something he’d never be able to ignore or sweep under the rug. This was hard evidence, and everything linked together now. Melissa had said her dad was funny about her having friends. That had proved true when she’d seen him right here. Stay away from my daughter! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck away. Had he gotten jealous of Melissa’s adoration of Lila? Or maybe got obsessed with Lila himself. A lonely, bitter man and a beautiful teenager. He wouldn’t have been the first.

The wheat swayed some more, scratching at her face, and she backed up, frustrated. Who could she call? Who would listen? Dr. Burdett. She had his number for emergencies. He was out doing his rounds, but he could get state troopers or whoever was needed. He’d listen to her. She only had two bars of signal but almost jumped with joy when the phone rang in her ear, clear as a bell. It stopped and she dialed again. Come on, come on. Up on high, the scarecrow grinned down at her.

“Hello?” His voice was scammer-wary and she laughed slightly in relief.

“Dr. Burdett? It’s Anna. Anna Maybourne. I need—”

“Has something happened to Evelyn? I—”

“No, nothing like that.” She didn’t move from her spot, fearful of the line cutting out before she’d said her piece.

“What is it? You sound distressed. Are you outside?” His gravelly concern made her want to weep in relief.

“Yes. It’s about Lila’s and Bonnie’s murders. I know what happened. I—”

“Oh, Anna, are you—”

“Please listen.” She cut him off, attempting to make her own voice calmer, more reasoned. “I know you covered up Bonnie’s pregnancy to protect the sheriff thinking you weren’t doing much harm, especially after Michael Cairns was thought to be guilty. But Cairns didn’t kill either Lila or Bonnie. The sheriff killed Bonnie when she didn’t get an abortion. He killed her in the dental practice where they used to meet. I’m pretty sure he hit her with one of the heavy awards on the shelf. Then he strangled her and made her look exactly like Lila’s murder, naked and with her skin cut out and left on the Laverne farm. And it was easy to put her there because Lila was murdered by his brother-in-law, Mr. Laverne. They probably helped each other. Maybe the sheriff even—”

“You can’t surely believe this, Anna.” He was shocked in her ear. “I mean, the sheriff is a good man, and yes, Brett Laverne is a funny fella, but murder? That girl was his daughter’s best friend.”

“Exactly. And he’s been strange with me. But more than that, Doc, I’ve got evidence. I can prove the sheriff was Bonnie’s lover, and Lila’s scarf is on display right here at the Laverne farm. I’m staring at it. On their scarecrow. I’ve got photos.” He had to believe her. He had to.

“You’re at the farm? Now?” He was incredulous. “If what you say is true, then you need to get away from there.” There was rustling on the line as if he was moving. “Listen, I’ve got Caroline asleep here, but—”

“Caroline’s with you?” She frowned. “But she was at the sleepover.”

“Yes, but she was terrified about this Farmhand business, and I couldn’t talk her down, so we hatched a plan that when they went to their tents, I’d pick her up to sleep at my place and then sneak her back in the morning with none of her friends any the wiser. That’s why I couldn’t sit with your grandmother tonight. I told Caroline I could bring her home to you for the night, but she didn’t want you to know she was afraid.”

Oh, Caroline. Suddenly all her sister’s bright smiles and excitement made sense. Anna felt a rush of warmth for the doc, the first kind of positive emotion she’d felt toward a man in a long time. He was behaving like a grandfather, something neither of them had ever had.

“But we’ll come and meet you at your house, all right? Now get out of there. It’s not safe.”

“If you’ve got a gun at home—”