Page 69 of The Girl in the River

“What do you think?” Derrick asked.

She feigned a smile as they walked up the hill and they passed the same two guys she’d seen before. Turning to the river with lit cigarettes, the men did a piss poor job of concealing the fact they were following her and Derrick.

“I’m going to ask Laney to request Patty’s medical and dental records and compare to the remains in the barrel along with Mia’s,” Ellie said.

She just prayed those ashes didn’t belong to Mia.

NINETY-ONE

SOMEWHERE ON THE RIVER

A constant buzzing, droning sound echoed in Mia’s ears. Low voices. Footsteps. Machines.

The boat was rocking again, up and down, jamming into rocks, scuttling through the water and taking her farther and farther away to God only knew where.

A whistling echoed through the walls, sending a chill through her. She’d heard that same whistling sound before. Over and over and over – “Down in Dixie”.

She hated that song. That whistle took her back to the nightmares of the river monsters. And some big room in the woods.

It was so hot her clothes were sticking to her skin and her hair dripped with sweat. She and Jo-Jo had snuck inside to hover in front of the fan but it felt like hot air blowing in her face. It made her so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open. The room was a foggy blur of people and steam from the irons, women and young girls rushing through rows of bundled garments stacked so tall she couldn’t see over them. Country music echoed from the speakers as the buzzing hummed on. One of the records was scratched, causing the line “Hello, Darlin’” to repeat as if it was on a constant loop.

A whistle blew – or was it the wind outside? – and she blinked and saw her mama at the cutting table, pinning the pattern, then using the shears to cut the material. One by one, she cut then stacked the pieces until they were a mile high.

Then she slid behind the sewing machine and began to stitch. The droning sound went on and on…

Outside, a noise jolted her back to reality. She banged on the door. “Please let me out…”

But no one came. Only the whistle transformed into laughter and she knew she was trapped.

NINETY-TWO

RED RIVER ROCK

Since Sheriff Kincaid had not returned her call, Ellie decided to stop by his office.

“I’ll be inside in a minute,” Derrick said, his phone in hand. “I’m going to check on Rick’s kids. That is if Lindsey will talk to me.”

Ellie gave him a sympathetic look. “Good luck.”

“By the way, did you notice those two burly guys at Moondoggy’s that were watching us?”

Ellie gave a little nod. “You think they’re keeping tabs on us?”

“Looks that way,” Derrick said. “When I went to the bar, I managed to take a photo of them. I want to find out who they are.”

She agreed, left him in the Jeep and made her way into the police station. A deputy named Jimmy Stancil was at the front desk. He was lean with a long face and high forehead, brown eyes and hair somewhere between wheat and a dirty brown. “I need to see Sheriff Kincaid.”

“Sheriff ain’t here right now,” the deputy said, his gaze raking over her. “You that detective from Crooked Creek?”

“I am. Maybe you can answer our questions,” Ellie said. “Has he explained what we’re doing here?”

Deputy Stancil shifted the toothpick in his mouth to one corner. “Course. Said Jesse Habersham not only ran off but she was using a phony name.” He gave a low whistle. “Didn’t see that coming.”

Ellie tilted her head to the side, studying him. “What did you think happened to her?”

“No idea. Couldn’t imagine her leaving a big dog like Kevin Moon. All the women around here throw themselves at him.”

“Do you think he accepted their advances?”

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