Page 89 of Girl Between
“You’ve met my family,” he teased. “You know that won’t scare me.”
“Then you know I can’t ignore the connection to your mother’s practices,” Dana said.
“Abigale’s altar?” George chuckled. “You know how many Voodoo altars like that I see every week? They’re more common than a doorway crucifix in Nawlins. But I can tell that’s not all you’re stewing on.”
“Have you heard of The Code of Hammurabi?”
“Sure, it’s the origin of law.”
“Technically, the Code of Hammurabi is aBabylonian documentcomposed during 1755–1750 BC. It is the longest and best-preserved legal text, which much of our current legal system is based on.”
“Okay, and we’re talking about legal origins in the bayou, because …”
“Because the first mentions of witchcraft can be found in the Code of Hammurabi. Anyone suspected of witchcraft was punished with ordeal by water. This was done by immersing the suspect in water, and if they sank to the bottom, they were innocent, because the water accepted them. If they floated, however, they were guilty because the water rejected them.”
“Enlightening,” George said, still looking perplexed.
“You said it yourself. Voodoo is as prevalent as Christianity here. What if the Goode sisters gave the Harvest Girls trial by water to ensure they weren’t sacrificing one of their own?”
“You think that’s how Sloane escaped?” he asked, catching on.
“I don’t know. But look at this place. How the hell would a terrified sixteen-year-old find her way out on her own?”
George didn’t offer an answer.
“I want to talk to your mother,” Dana said. “Ask her if she knew what kind of magic the Goode sisters practiced. And if trial by water fits in anyway.”
“Why do you think my mother would know anything about the Goodes?”
“They’re around the same age. And, it’s common practice in witchcraft to know what other crafts your magic might encounter.”
“Keep your friends close, enemies closer?” George hedged.
“Sort of,” Dana admitted. “Would you be okay with me speaking to her?”
“If it helps quell whatever thoughts I can see running around in that pretty head, sure. But it’s not enough to convince me the Harvest Girls have any connection to our current case.”
Dana bit at her thumbnail. “I hate that today was a waste.”
“It wasn’t. Excluding evidence can be as important as discovering it.”
Dana knew that. The trouble was she wasn’t sure excluding the Harvest Girls was the right move. They hadn’t uncovered any new evidence, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were connectedto the bodies that had been found in the cemeteries. And beyond that, she wanted closure for the three broken families who’d been left behind, forever tormented, not knowing what happened to their daughters.
“What about the families of the three missing Harvest Girls?” Dana asked. “You said they still live here. Maybe we could talk?—"
George was already shaking his head. “No. Not without new information. They need whatever peace they can find after what they’ve been through. Can’t imagine how they still find the strength to hang onto hope after all these years. You know I read in an interview a few years back saying each one of the girls’ parents made a pact not to move because they wanted the girls to know right where to find them if they ever returned. Can you imagine?”
Suddenly, Dana was thirteen again, gazing out her grandparents’ kitchen window while she washed dishes, eyes trained on the end of the long dirt driveway. Heart in her throat each time headlights approached, only to be crushed all over again when they kept driving.
She’d been at her parents’ funeral. Seen their bodies. Stood by their graves. But still she hoped.
Even now, even after solving their murders, Dana’s heart skipped a beat whenever she saw a woman with auburn hair or a man in a tweed jacket. She would forever be that little girl hoping for her parents’ miraculous return.
That’s what happened when the natural order of things was irrevocably disrupted.
Children would always search for parents taken too soon.
Just like parents would never recover from outliving their children.
