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“You look like a smart person, Dana. I’ve read a couple of your books, and you’re an excellent writer. Intuitive. Sensitive.”
A hot blush bloomed in her cheeks. In this town, she’d take compliments wherever she could find them. “Thank you.”
“Oh, I’m not here to give you strokes. I’m trying to figure out why someone like you hasn’t gotten the message that High Ridge doesn’t want you to open old wounds. Surely, there must be another crime you could chase after. Somewhere else.”
She tightened her hands on her mug. “Let me ask you a question, John. Professional to professional.”
Garrett signaled for the waitress to bring him a full mug. “Lay it on me.”
“Doesn’t anyone think it would arouse my suspicions if they just shut me out? That I might think they have something to hide? Aren’t there people who want to know what really happened? To find out who committed these dreadful crimes?”
He nodded his thanks for the coffee. “It’s like this. The families whose children were victims are still dealing with the shock and grief after all these years. It tore people apart. Destroyed marriages. You think they want to bleed all over again?”
“Maybe it would be good for them. They could finally have some closure.”
“How would you feel if you were in their situation?”
“How do you think they feel after last night?” she asked. “Everyone here operates on the theory that if you don’t acknowledge something, it will go away. But now, here’s this new murder. It opens up the possibility that another predator has decided to make High Ridge his feeding ground.”
John blew on the hot coffee, then took a sip. “Jesus, I hope not. It’s bad enough as it is.”
“Or maybe,” she said quietly, “it’s the same killer hunting again.”
He nearly dropped his mug. “You’d be wise not to go around voicing that theory. Everyone knows whoever it was is long gone.”
“That’s what everyone wants to believe,” she corrected.
“It’s the truth,” he said stubbornly.
“So what will you be putting in the paper?” She sipped at the hot coffee.
“Not much. There’s not much to tell. But we sure won’t be digging up the past.”
Dana frowned. “Sheriff Landry gave me a copy of the release. If she was taken in the convenience store parking lot, I’m surprised someone didn’t see her.”
“She was parked way over to the side, not too visible, I guess.”
Dana watched his face as she asked the next question. “I assume she was raped?”
“Yeah.” Garrett sighed. “Sheriff’s not giving out any details on that, but scuttlebutt says it was pretty brutal.”
It’s him. I know it’s him.
She had to get out of here. Dropping the half-eaten toast back on her plate, she fished some singles from her purse and dropped them on the counter.
“Thanks, John. I think.” She made a show of looking at her watch. “I need to get going.”
“Leave the people alone, Dana,” he repeated.
“We’ll see.”
She escaped before anyone else could add their two cents and locked herself in her car, shaking, watching through her sunglasses to see who came out of Harry’s after she did. But no one seemed particularly interested in her or where she’d gone. And the feeling of evil didn’t reach out to grip her again.
Did he know who she was? Had he somehow, after all these years, recognized her? For a minute there, she had been back in that barn, consumed with fear and pain.
No. This was ridiculous.
Yet somehow, she’d picked up on his thoughts and they related to her.Dana. Not Carrie.That was even scarier.
