Page 94 of The Premonition at Withers Farm
Molly nodded. “She was the third woman attacked—only she wasn’t killed.” She recalled Gladys’s recounting.
“Correct,” Gemma said. “The funny thing is, when I research the Wasziak family tree, there is mention of a Perliett Van Hilton.”
“Wait. George Wasziak had a thing for Perliett?” Molly asked.
Sid’s eyes were wide with concentration. “Ooh, what if it’s a tale of thwarted love?” She drew lines between the names on the poster board.
“Let’s focus on one situation at a time.” Molly leaned forward and traced Tamera Nichols’s name with her finger.“Realistically, 1982 is more likely to have an impact on today than some old cold-case mystery from 1910.”
“True.” Sid nodded.
Gemma sat back in her chair. “But how?”
“Who’s Tamera Nichols?” Molly asked.
Gemma reached for her laptop and ran a search. As she typed, she explained, “I’ve already searched that name and date, along with Kilbourn. Here’s what I found.” She turned the laptop toward Molly.
Molly leaned forward to read the text. “‘Wisconsin woman, Tamera Nichols, was reported missing on the second of May. She was last seen in Kilbourn, Michigan, on April thirtieth.’” The online news article was dated 1982. Molly squinted to read some of the smaller print. “They included this on a blog post written ten years ago by a Brianna Nichols.”
“We should try to contact her,” Sid suggested. She looked between them. “Think about it. Your sister”—she looked to Gemma—“was researching the Wasziak family ancestry. She stumbled upon a murder case from 1910. That would intrigue me if I were her—enough to search for other serious crimes tied to Kilbourn in the past. Now fast-forward to her finding out about a missing Tamera Nichols in 1982...” Sid raised her eyebrows as if Gemma and Molly should understand where she was going with her reasoning.
“And?” Molly prodded.
“What if we have this all wrong?” Sid asked. “What if the Cornfield Ripper story has nothing to do with what happened to January and to you, Molly? What if it’s all about Tamera Nichols?”
“My sister was digging into a more current missing-person case out of curiosity, which started when she discovered the tale of the Cornfield Ripper, and then someone caught wind of it?” Gemma raised an eyebrow.
Sid nodded. “And they don’t want it investigated by anyone. Even an amateur.”
“But why come after me?” Molly had to ask. It wasn’t as if she were an amateur sleuth of historical crimes. She was a depressed woman in her thirties who seriously needed therapy. “I have only been looking at the 1910 Cornfield Ripper facts. If what happened to January was motivated by Tamera Nichols’s disappearance in 1982, that’s unrelated to anything I’ve researched. So why me?”
“Yes.” Gemma studied Molly. “Why you?” She wasn’t condemning Molly so much as asking it as a genuine question. “I was thinking it was the Wasziak connection, which was why I kept focusing on 1910.”
“There’s a crate in my chicken coop,” Molly started.
“The killer’s kit!” Sid straightened, snapping her fingers.
Molly smiled shakily. She really was an emotional wreck right now. “Yeah. And the newspaper that lined it was from 1982.”
“Okay, so what?” Gemma looked lost.
Sid caught Gemma up on their finding what resembled a killer’s murder kit in the chicken coop.
“Wait. What if that’s the missing link? What if it’s the farm?” Gemma asked.
“I don’t get it.” Molly sagged in her chair.
Sid got it. Molly could tell by the look on her face. “Yes. What if whoever was involved with Tamera Nichols going missing left their stuff at your farm? What if there are clues there? So, January was digging into the story about the Withers family and their farm and she ran across Tamera Nichols’s disappearance, then threatened to open up a cold case, and to top it all off, you moved in to the Withers farmhouse that hadn’t been occupied for a long time and were messing around in the outbuildings, discovering stuff that was supposed to stay hidden?” Sid stopped to suck in a breath after her excited revelation.
“I found a journal.” Molly held up a hand as Sid and Gemma jumped forward with excitement. “It was from 1910,though, not 1982. It was just a bunch of random farming notes. But itwashidden in the chicken coop.”
“Where is it?” Gemma was smiling, hope lighting her features and erasing the intensity.
Molly scrunched her face in apology. “It burned. With the fire.”
Gemma’s shoulders drooped.
Sid waved her finger in the air. “Awww, no. I refuse to accept defeat! Where there’s one, there’s gotta be more. We need to rip that coop apart and find out what else is hidden in there!”
