Page 20 of In Her Memory

Emma ignored her and rang the doorbell. After a moment, the door opened to reveal a woman in her sixties, her silver hair pulled back. She wore gardening gloves and looked as if she’d been interrupted in the middle of a project.

“Yes?” the woman asked, not unkindly but with obvious caution.

“Good morning,” Emma said, trying to sound confident despite her disheveled appearance. “I noticed your yard needs clearing. I’m looking for day work, if you need help with those leaves.”

The woman studied her. “You’re not from around here.”

“No, ma’am. Just passing through, looking to earn some money.”

“Got a name?”

“Emma. Emma Kirby.”

The woman seemed to be weighing her options, looking from Emma to the leaf-strewn yard and back again. “I was just about to tackle those myself. Back’s not what it used to be, though.”

“I’m strong,” Emma offered. “And I work hard.”

After another moment’s consideration, the woman said, “Alright, Emma Kirby. I’m Helen Bowerman. I’ve got a leaf blower and some yard bags in the garage. Ten dollars an hour sound fair?”

Relief washed through Emma. “Yes, ma’am. That’s more than fair.” Added to what she still had from the bike, she wouldn’t have to go hungry again, at least not soon.

“Follow me, then.” Helen led the way around the side of the house to a detached garage. She unlocked it and pulled out a gas-powered leaf blower. “I want them blown into piles, then bagged. Bags go by the curb for pickup.” Helen gestured to a stack of large paper yard waste bags leaning against the garage wall. “There’s water and a sandwich for you in the kitchen when you need it. I’ll be inside working on my quilting. Just knock if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, genuinely grateful.

Once Helen had gone back inside, Emma examined the leaf blower, figuring out how to use it. It looked simple enough to operate.

“This is a mistake,” Loyalynne said, suddenly appearing on top of a nearby shrub. “You’re making yourself visible. Traceable.”

Emma started the leaf blower, its roar drowning out whatever else Loyalynne might have said. For the next half hour, she worked methodically, blowing leaves into neat piles across the front yard. The physical labor felt good after the long night on the bicycle—a different kind of exertion that worked new muscles and gave her mind something concrete to focus on.

When she shut off the blower to reposition, Loyalynne was waiting.

“You can’t stay in Clarksboro,” the doll said. “Your phantoms are too close. I can feel them searching.”

Emma wiped sweat from her brow. “I just need enough money for food and maybe a night in a motel. One real night’s sleep.”

“Sleep is a luxury we can’t afford.” Loyalynne drifted closer. “But fortunately, I know how to get you away from here. Far enough away that they can’t find you.”

Something in Loyalynne’s tone made Emma pause. “What do you mean? How?”

Loyalynne’s porcelain lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Don’t worry about that now. Finish your work. Earn your money.” The doll floated up toward the branches of a nearby oak tree. “But be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. The phantoms won’t wait, and neither can we.”

Emma stared after Loyalynne for a long moment, feeling uneasy. Then she yanked the leaf blower’s cord, drowning her thoughts in its mechanical roar. As she herded leaves into mountains, she realized she was smiling. She’d drawn a line, and the doll hadn’t crossed it.

But as Loyalynne glared down at her, Emma wondered what might happen if she refused the doll’s orders when no one else was around.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Officer Maria Delgado knelt on the cold tile of the laundry room floor, the luminol kit beside her a reassuring presence. Maybe she could use it to find out something important about this case.

The overhead light fixture had a new bulb now, illuminating the space where Donna Marsh had supposedly fallen. Deputy Jake Hawkins had left moments ago, called away for a meeting with the mayor, leaving Maria to conduct this crucial test alone. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves and began unpacking the chemicals.

“Finally getting somewhere,” she muttered to herself, carefully measuring the luminol solution into the spray bottle.

Maria had always been good at this part of the job – the meticulous gathering of evidence, the patient documentation that built cases piece by piece. She found satisfaction in these quiet moments when science could reveal what the human eye missed.

She appreciated the Sheriff and Deputy calling on her for this. She knew they also relied on her for working directly with distraught people. Overall, Maria was feeling very good about her chosen career with the Genesius County Sheriff’s office.