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“Lily was the tenth child taken. Sheriff Nickels said there were traces of chloroform in each of their systems, so I’m guessing he sedated them immediately.”
Suddenly, the odor of chloroform was strong in Dana’s nostrils, and she scrubbed her face with her hands, as if to wipe it away. “I assume all the clowns were questioned?”
Ivy tightened her grip on her mug. “Oh, yes. But no one could say exactly how many there were. Some said four, some said five. Even the clowns themselves weren’t sure.”
“Didn’t people think that was strange? I mean, someone had to hire them.”
“Afterward, I thought the same thing.” She shook her head. “But everyone was being so defensive, no one wanted to even admit to their own names.”
“I understand clowns were involved at some of the other events, too,” Dana prodded. “Didn’t anyone suggest it was time to stop using them?”
“The county changed companies, but most of the clowns were retired men who did this for fun. No one wanted to seriously think that one of them could be the killer. The pedophile.” She spat the last word. “And clowns had been a staple of every county activity for generations.”
“But—”
“I know, I know.” Ivy held up her hand. “I guess it was a case of not wanting to believe it could be anyone we knew. Someone we considered harmless.” She shrugged helplessly. “And then it stopped.”
Dana’s heart almost stopped, too, at the statement. She knew why it had ended, but she asked the question anyway. “Did something happen?”
“Two little girls, Kylie and Carrie Nolan, were taken at the fairgrounds. Apparently, whoever the man was, he’d either stumbled on or knew about an old, deserted barn almost ten miles from High Ridge. The land had been tied up in probate for years, so no one ever bothered about it. But some high school kids were looking for a place to smoke dope and the barn looked pretty good to them.”
“Did they see who he was?” Her heart was beating erratically.
Ivy shook her head. “No. They must have scared him off. But they certainly got a shock when they swung their flashlights around inside the barn. Kylie was dead and Carrie just barely alive.”
Dana dug her fingernails into her palms. “Does anyone know what happened to their family?”
“Only that they left town right away. I think they moved to another state, but we never heard where. They buried Kylie and just…disappeared.”
Ivy Winslow managed to pull herself together again, but Dana needed to get out of there. She hadn’t realized how emotionally she would be affected by Ivy’s cooperation. Or how the mention of Kylie, the little sister she hadn’t been able to save, would be her undoing.
She gathered her purse and pushed back from the table. “I’ve taken more of your time than I intended. You’ve been very gracious, and I appreciate it.”
“It isn’t graciousness,” Ivy denied. “Don’t be fooled. A lot of people in this town, me included, have read a couple of your books. That display in the bookstore window really draws people.”
Dana’s laugh was humorless. “The truth is, my publisher pays for that kind of prominent space. I’m glad to hear it isn’t wasted.”
“You have a good eye for things. If you can find even some little thing that will get this bastard, after all this time, I’ll do anything I can to help you.”
“Thank you. A lot.” As Dana headed toward the door, Ivy’s words jangled an idea loose in her mind, and she turned to the woman. “As a matter of fact, there is one thing if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Name it.”
“Maybe you could get a few of the other women together. Ease the way for them to meet with me, answer some of my questions. I know the men won’t talk to me.”
Ivy thought a moment, then nodded her agreement, determination setting in on her face. “I’ll do it. Where are you staying? I’ll set it up and call you.”
“I’ve rented a house for however long I’ll be here. One night at the High Ridge Motel was about all I could handle.” She pulled out one of her business cards and wrote on the back of it. “This is my cell number. You can reach me twenty-four/seven. And thank you.”
Dana’s entire body was tight with the tears she’d choked back, and the pain in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. She was about three miles from the Winslow house when she found a place to pull off the road, away from traffic. Turning off the engine, she put her head on the steering wheel and cried harder than she had in years.
Chapter Sixteen
Shannon Fowler kicked a stone in front of her as she trudged down the dusty road from the bus stop to her house. She hated living out here in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by pastures and hay fields, the Fowler house was the only one for miles. Her parents thought it was great. Her dad worked for the people who owned all the property. They gave him the use of the house for practically nothing, just for taking care of the hay and watching the cattle when they moved them into the closer pastures.
It also gave him a place to fix cars and trucks for people without having to rent a shop and worry about what he called “idiotic things like licenses.” People just brought him their junkers, and he fixed them up and pocketed the money.
Her mother spent her days baking cakes and cookies that she sold to Patty’s Pastries. As the woman said so often, they weren’t ever going to get rich, but they didn’t starve.
