Page 97 of The Witch's Orchard
I think back to what Mack had said. That Dwight had also seen what he’d taken to be a scarecrow that had turned out to be a person. But for some reason, it had spooked him. I think, again, that I need to get those witness statements from AJ. See exactly what was said on that day. What was seen. Now, though, I need to get back on track and back on the road.
“Did you know that the Zieglers also visited the Andrews family on the day Molly was kidnapped?”
“Did they?”
“What is your opinion of the Zieglers?” I ask.
“They’re friends of mine,” she says.
I’m surprised to hear Deena identify any of the residents of Quartz Creek as friends. “Are they?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think they’re good people?” I ask.
She blinks at me, her head tilted in mild confusion. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“Are they decent?”
“Decent?”
“Do you have a high opinion of them?”
“They would not be my friends if I did not.”
“Did they ever offer counseling to you and Mister Drake?”
Her lips purse into a near smile but she turns it off almost before I see it. “I’m not sure how that’s relevant to your investigation, Miss Gore.”
“I’m not sure either,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, I’m asking questions for the explicit reason that I do not know their answers. It’s only when I have answers that I begin to understand their relevance and am able to form a larger picture.”
“Like a puzzle,” she says.
“More like a map,” I tell her. “A map that I’m trying to fill in.”
“The Zieglers offered Mister Drake and me the same gracious service they would offer to any member of First Baptist’s congregation.”
“Was your husband close with them?”
A small hesitation. And then, “Yes. Bob and Harvey were as close as two men of that generation ever are. They played golf together. A few times, Bob went with Harvey on hunting expeditions. Bob and Rebecca occasionally had us over for dinner.”
“Not anymore?”
“Not since Harvey passed. It reminds me too much of the time before. We fell out of practice and then, well, it simply never came up again.”
“You sound like you miss it.”
“I miss everything about the time before Harvey passed.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
We sit and look at each other.
The grandfather clock down the hall ticks. The animals stare.
