Page 5 of Seeking Evil

Sierra noticed a man in a sheriff’s uniform come in and speak with the older man at the counter, then to Jet-Black Hair. Jet-Black pointed to a flyer posted on the wall near the cash register. It showed a young woman. Dark hair. “Missing,” written in red, across the front.

A few minutes passed where the lawman studied the missing person’s poster. More words were exchanged before the lawman picked up his order and left.

Someone had gone missing from the area. Sierra remembered Inez’s warning to be careful. Had she known about this young woman, or was there something more?

Jet-Black brought over her pancakes and bacon. Sierra’s curiosity got the better of her. Being an FBI agent wasn’t easy to turn off. She noticed the waitress’s name tag. Florence.

“What was that all about, Florence?” Sierra crooked her thumb at the cruiser leaving the parking lot.

Florence pursed her lips. “A young woman staying at the cabins next door went missing about a week ago.”

Sierra forgot about her rumbling stomach. “I’m staying there. What happened?”

Florence seemed torn between not wanting to gossip with a stranger and wanting to spill what she knew.

The need to spill won out. Florence refilled Sierra’s coffee cup and then looked around. By now, the old guy had left. It was just them and the blinded-by-love couple in the booth.

Florence sat down opposite Sierra, grabbing Sierra’s full attention.

“Inez, that’s the owner of the cabins, was the one who called it in to the police. She said the young woman, Dawn Collins, was supposed to check out and settle up her bill. When she didn’t, Inez checked her room. All her things were there. The bed was made from when housekeeping had cleaned it but . . . no Dawn.”

Sierra didn’t want to hear the rest. But the agent in her wouldn’t let her not. “What does the sheriff think happened to her?”

“They’re not sure. Her car was never found. She’d come here to climb like so many young people do.” Florence looked Sierra over. “Her family hasn’t heard from her. No one has. And she wouldn’t just leave all her things behind.”

“Someone took her.” She wanted to ask if the police had any leads but Florence wouldn’t know this.

“Reminds me of what happened twenty-five years ago.”

This grabbed Sierra’s full attention. She remembered hearing something about the disappearances of women years ago. As far as Sierra remembered, none were ever found.

Florence looked around nervously and seemed to realize she’d said too much. “I’m sure her disappearance isn’t related to those other girls.”

Two customers entered the room. A man and woman. Florence rose and hurried away faster than Sierra had seen her move before. “What can I get you Mr. and Mrs. Gacey?” She spared Sierra another frowning look. The waitress didn’t want to talk further about what happened.

Sierra poured syrup on her pancakes and dug in, unable to let go of what Florence told her. As soon as she got to the cabin, she’d do a deep dive into the town and those women’s disappearances so many years ago that had left its mark on those living here.

Chapter Two

What would Betsy do if she knew of the real monster sitting beside her drinking his wife’s favorite tea like he and Maggie had done so many times together? What would Betsy think if she knew what had been done right here in this house’s basement?

“Maggie’s roses are looking promising.” Betsy peered his way and frowned when he seemed not to be paying attention to her.

Henry snapped out of his funk. “Yes, they are. I was just remembering when we planted them. She was so happy.”

Betsy patted his hand. “She loved you dearly, Henry. Maggie told me dozens of times how blessed she was to have found you.” She sipped her English garden tea. “You weren’t in church Sunday.” Betsy sniffed in that infernal way she had of showing her disapproval.

Henry did his best to contain his annoyance. Betsy was nosey. Always had been. And he suspected she had her eye set on him now that Maggie was out of the way despite Maggie being her friend.

“I wasn’t feeling up to being around people.” He wanted to tell her she was part of that group. At some point, Henry would have to deal with Betsy. Set her straight. She would never take Maggie’s place, and she was unworthy of being one of his girls.

Betsy set her teacup down. “I could make us some lunch.” That little smile of hers sickened him.

“I’m afraid I must pass. I have to handle some paperwork.”

Her brows shot up. “Oh . . . ?”

“Maggie’s death and all.”

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