Page 31 of Poison Wood

“And here’s your dressin’,” she says, placing a beige bowl filled to the brim next to me.

“Wow,” I say.

“Right?” she says. “Enjoy.”

After she walks off, I type up questions on my phone: Why would Heather Hadwick run from Poison Wood? That answer feels obvious. We all wanted to run away, and several tried but didn’t make it far. The girls who ran away were always brought back. They were usually found shivering in the woods by the sheriff. That’s why we all believed Heather had died. No one ever found her. Then there was the blood found in Johnny Adair’s cottage.

I write another question: Did Heather see something she shouldn’t have or do something she shouldn’t have?

I follow it with: Did Heather know Johnny Adair went to prison for killing her?

If she knew and she let him stay in prison, whatever secret Heather held was greater than a man’s freedom.

I cut my meat pie open with my fork, and it releases a plume of steam. Even though the smell makes my mouth water, I’ve lost my appetite. I pick at my salad instead.

My server stops by and says, “Can I get you anything else, hon?”

I look down at my notes. “Do you know Tandy Higginbottom?”

She smiles. “Everybody ’round here knows Ms. Tandy.”

Oh, small towns. No guarded looks. No questioning expressions. Just honesty.

“I’d love to meet her and talk to the historical society here.”

“You mean the hysterical society.” She laughs and winks at me. “Don’t tell Ms. Tandy I called it that.”

“Never,” I say. “Do they meet regularly?”

“Second Thursday of every month.” She nods toward the front door. “Just down this street.”

I glance at the door. That means Tandy and the other members will be meeting tomorrow. Maybe I will start to believe in coincidences.

The server leans down and whispers, “They’ll probably be talking about the murders tomorrow.”

My body stiffens. “Murders?”

Her blue eyes crinkle, and she starts to laugh. “The crepe myrtle murders on Front Street.” She laughs so hard she starts coughing. “Apparently Dean’s Lawn Care cut all their branches off, and now Ms. Tandy is fit to be tied. Yelling to anyone who’ll listen how those poor trees were murdered.” Her laugh trails off, and she wipes her eyes. “Sorry.” She clears her throat. “That was probably in poor taste given what those ladies have been through. You know. With the school thing and all.”

“Yeah,” I say. “The school thing.”

She tucks her hair behind her large ears.

I say. “What time do those meetings take place?”

She refills my water. “Three p.m. You’ll love Ms. Tandy. She’s just a doll.”

“I’m sure I will,” I say and make a mental note to be back in this town by this time tomorrow.

When she’s gone, I thank my instinct for telling me to get off the interstate and come here. Erin may be on the ground in Florida now, but I’m on the ground here. And even though it’s overstepping, I’m going to find out what I can while I can.

I will figure out a way to convince Dom to let me stay on this story and somehow keep my closeness to it from shattering my career.

As I push my salad away, I sense someone watching me. I look around the room and spot a guy a few tables over. It takes a second, but then it registers. The eyes register. Golden Retriever from the Riverbend airport.

He scoots back from his table and walks toward me. He stops at my table and smiles. “Are you stalking me?”

I smile back; then I snap my fingers and point to him. “Luggage thief.”