of the farm on Halloween.
Like everyone else in East Salem, Dani had driven past the hundred and fifty acres of Gardener Farm, demarked by ancient stone walls, and fantasized about someday buying the place and renovating the big Queen Anne–style house. Visible from the road only in winter, the house, with its detailed turrets and gables, pitched slate roof, and elaborate gingerbread trim, might make a friendly “painted lady” if coated in brighter colors and if, perhaps, there were children’s toys scattered across the front lawn. But with its reddish brown siding and black trim and wild ivy crawling from the ground all the way to the widow’s walk at the top, covering the windows with dirt and leaves, the house seemed to forbid any guests or visitors. In all the times that she’d driven past it, she’d never seen a light on. Rumors had circulated for years about any number of billionaires and celebrities who’d stopped by to make Abbie or Crazy George an offer, only to be chased off. It was hard not to imagine that the house was hiding something.
She was nearly home for the day when her phone rang.
“Just letting you know,” Detective Casey said, “we ran down all the names that Liam gave us of the kids who were at the party. The only one who didn’t show up to school today is Julie Leonard. Seventeen. We’re bringing the mother down to the ME’s to make the ID. Like that’s something a mother should ever have to see. Hopefully there’s a birthmark on a hand or foot, and we won’t have to show Mrs. Leonard any more than that.”
“The girl had a red-and-black friendship bracelet around her right ankle, didn’t she?” Dani recalled gently. “The kind kids tie on at camp and wear until they fall off.”
“I forgot about that,” Casey said. “Maybe that will be enough.”
“Do you need me there?”
“No,” Casey said. “But I’m gonna tell the mother we’re gonna catch whoever did this. I’m gonna need you to help me keep my promise.”
Dani hung up, pulled over to the side of the road, then typed the name “Julie Leonard” into the search box on her Google screen. She was about to hit enter, but changed her mind.
Tomorrow , she decided, and logged off.
Just before getting home, she stopped by the A&P Plaza where she bought a new HD radio/alarm at RadioShack for her bed stand. The radio also featured digital samples of various soothing sounds to help the listener fall asleep . . . a summer thunderstorm, a spring meadow full of birds, waves crashing on the beach, crickets chirping on a warm summer night. She was looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep.
Three miles from her house, she saw flashing red, blue, and yellow lights ahead and slowed her car. Her first thought was a car accident, but as she drew closer she saw a police car, a fire truck with its ladder partially extended, and an electric company utility truck with a bucket lift. She parked and got out of the car to see if she could be of any medical assistance. As she rounded the rear of the fire truck, she saw that a fireman and two electrical workers were working on something above the road. She took a few steps farther and gasped.
Somehow a deer had become entangled in the wires fifteen feet above the asphalt, snagged and bleeding and hanging by the antlers. To her further horror, she saw the deer suddenly kick its hind legs, trying to free itself.
She watched an electrical worker, unable to free the animal, shake his head. The bucket lift was lowered to the ground. The electrical worker opened the bucket gate, and a cop climbed in. He unholstered his service pistol as the bucket rose. Dani wanted to look away but couldn’t. She watched and listened as the officer fired two bullets into the deer’s brain from point-blank range and put the poor animal out of its misery.
When a second cop advised her to step back, she asked him what happened.
“I work for the DA’s office,” she told him, as if that had
Like everyone else in East Salem, Dani had driven past the hundred and fifty acres of Gardener Farm, demarked by ancient stone walls, and fantasized about someday buying the place and renovating the big Queen Anne–style house. Visible from the road only in winter, the house, with its detailed turrets and gables, pitched slate roof, and elaborate gingerbread trim, might make a friendly “painted lady” if coated in brighter colors and if, perhaps, there were children’s toys scattered across the front lawn. But with its reddish brown siding and black trim and wild ivy crawling from the ground all the way to the widow’s walk at the top, covering the windows with dirt and leaves, the house seemed to forbid any guests or visitors. In all the times that she’d driven past it, she’d never seen a light on. Rumors had circulated for years about any number of billionaires and celebrities who’d stopped by to make Abbie or Crazy George an offer, only to be chased off. It was hard not to imagine that the house was hiding something.
She was nearly home for the day when her phone rang.
“Just letting you know,” Detective Casey said, “we ran down all the names that Liam gave us of the kids who were at the party. The only one who didn’t show up to school today is Julie Leonard. Seventeen. We’re bringing the mother down to the ME’s to make the ID. Like that’s something a mother should ever have to see. Hopefully there’s a birthmark on a hand or foot, and we won’t have to show Mrs. Leonard any more than that.”
“The girl had a red-and-black friendship bracelet around her right ankle, didn’t she?” Dani recalled gently. “The kind kids tie on at camp and wear until they fall off.”
“I forgot about that,” Casey said. “Maybe that will be enough.”
“Do you need me there?”
“No,” Casey said. “But I’m gonna tell the mother we’re gonna catch whoever did this. I’m gonna need you to help me keep my promise.”
Dani hung up, pulled over to the side of the road, then typed the name “Julie Leonard” into the search box on her Google screen. She was about to hit enter, but changed her mind.
Tomorrow , she decided, and logged off.
Just before getting home, she stopped by the A&P Plaza where she bought a new HD radio/alarm at RadioShack for her bed stand. The radio also featured digital samples of various soothing sounds to help the listener fall asleep . . . a summer thunderstorm, a spring meadow full of birds, waves crashing on the beach, crickets chirping on a warm summer night. She was looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep.
Three miles from her house, she saw flashing red, blue, and yellow lights ahead and slowed her car. Her first thought was a car accident, but as she drew closer she saw a police car, a fire truck with its ladder partially extended, and an electric company utility truck with a bucket lift. She parked and got out of the car to see if she could be of any medical assistance. As she rounded the rear of the fire truck, she saw that a fireman and two electrical workers were working on something above the road. She took a few steps farther and gasped.
Somehow a deer had become entangled in the wires fifteen feet above the asphalt, snagged and bleeding and hanging by the antlers. To her further horror, she saw the deer suddenly kick its hind legs, trying to free itself.
She watched an electrical worker, unable to free the animal, shake his head. The bucket lift was lowered to the ground. The electrical worker opened the bucket gate, and a cop climbed in. He unholstered his service pistol as the bucket rose. Dani wanted to look away but couldn’t. She watched and listened as the officer fired two bullets into the deer’s brain from point-blank range and put the poor animal out of its misery.
When a second cop advised her to step back, she asked him what happened.
“I work for the DA’s office,” she told him, as if that had
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