Page 40 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow

Thirty-Two

“Don’t want to hurt me, huh?” I say. “I wonder why. And don’t say it’s because I’m descended from the town founders or any shit like that.”

He winces at the profanity. “Sam…”

“You have two choices, Craig. Well, three. Option three is that you physically stop me and suffer what we both know are the consequences. Option two is that you pretend you don’t know what’s happened to Ben and I call the lawyer, who was wondering why his phone was off.

Apparently, she gets an alert. Also? If Ben’s phone is off, he doesn’t get money for his father, which means he did not turn off his phone or let the battery die. ”

Smits tries not to react to that, but I see his wince.

“Option one?” I continue. “Tell me where the fuck Ben is. I don’t care about the rest. I want to know where to find Ben.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Of course it’s not. It never is.”

Smits eases back. “I know the legend. About the Paynes and the drowned dead. My family has been here nearly as long as yours. People talk. But that’s all it is.

A legend. After I leafed through that book inside, I realized Ben had shown you that to convince you it was real—after setting it all up to scare you off, make you lose your inheritance.

I confronted him. He stalked away. He turned off his phone because he knew the gig was up. ”

“You’ve heard the legend.”

“Yes, like I said—”

“I want the truth, Sheriff. There is no way you flipped through that book and recognized the story. The writing is faint, the penmanship is hard to decipher, the language is old. Flipping through only told you that we’d found a book you’ve seen before. My notes told you we’d deciphered it.”

“I—”

“You’re afraid to hurt me based on a legend you don’t believe?

” I meet his gaze. “Bull. Shit. You know the legend is true, and you know I’m the focus.

Do you know why my aunt died? Because she was trying to restrain me when we fought.

She let go, and I fell. That was it. A mistake.

So if I attack you, and you justifiably stop me… ?”

I step toward him. He backs up.

“Tell me again how you don’t believe the legend,” I say.

“It’s not—It’s complicated, Sam, and I think Ben has been messing around, thinking it’s just some old story, and it’s not. All right? It’s not.”

He starts to shove his hands into his pockets and then thinks better of it, keeping them where I can see them. “I said the Smitses have been here forever. For generations, my ancestors worked for your family. They … assisted them. In return for some of the benefits.”

I remember that from the book. The recommendation that the Paynes bring someone local in on the plan. Both to help find victims and as a potential fall guy.

“So your family sacrificed travelers—”

“What? No. Of course not.” He takes a breath.

“That isn’t how it works, Sam. Yes, sacrifices are needed, but no one kills anybody.

This is a vacation spot. Swimmers drown.

Boaters capsize. Campers stumble over a cliff going to the bathroom at night.

Things happen, sometimes to lone travelers who don’t have ties to the area.

My family helped yours find dead people, who were then given to the lake, to the horseman. ”

“They fed people to the nekkers, forcing them to rise from the dead as nekkers, trapped in their bodies—”

“No.” He shifts in frustration. “They might retain a bit of memory temporarily, which is why your aunt called to you. That fades quickly. Their souls pass on, and what’s left is the shell, which eventually rots.”

“So no one was murdered.”

He sighs. “I can’t say never, Sam. All I know is that by some point, we were using people who were already dead.

It’s one of the reasons my family went into law enforcement.

We could find those who died in accidents, and sometimes, we could get them to the Payne property before anyone knew.

Is that a cruelty to their families? Of course.

But it benefited everyone in the community. ”

No, it benefited his family and mine. I only say, “And Austin Vandergriff?”

Another sigh, deeper, pain written over his features.

“I don’t know what happened there, Sam. I only found Austin’s body after your father…

” He swallows. “After your dad took his own life. Austin had been trampled. That means it was the horseman, likely protecting you. Later, your mother told me that Austin had been tormenting you. That night he ran off, he was here after dusk and he must have hurt you then, when it was truly dangerous. I presume your father was hiding the body from the search when you found him and he panicked.”

“I’ve seen Austin. Among the dead. After he was allegedly buried.”

“He wasn’t buried. The horseman killed him, so his body had to be given to the lake. An empty casket went into that hole.”

“And the letter my father wrote, taking responsibility and ranting about inner demons?”

“I don’t know. I can only guess that was his way of explaining the inexplicable. In his own way, I suppose he did feel responsible.”

I fall silent.

“What happened to your aunt was horrible, Sam. A terrible accident. Your grandfather should have warned her, but you know how he was. All that mattered was his firstborn son. Your father knew the secret. Only your father. But no one else needs to die. I can teach you how to control the nekkers and harness their power, just like your dad did.”

“And Sam’s mother?” The question comes from our right, and we both startle as Josie tramps from the forest.

“No, Dad,” she says. “I didn’t just get back. I was not leaving you alone with Sam.”

“I would never hurt—”

“You wouldn’t dare, apparently. Now, what about Sam’s mother?”

Smits’s brow creases. “Veronica? Are you asking whether she could benefit if Sam controls the nekkers? Yes. The fortune conferred from the nekkers could help Veronica’s health, especially if we brought her here—”

“I mean you said her dad could control them. And her mom?”

“Veronica didn’t know anything about—”

“Liar.” Josie spits the word with enough venom to make me jump. “I know about you and Veronica Payne, Dad. I found letters you wrote her.”

“What?” Smits says as I stand there, staring.

She pulls a page from her back pocket and shakes it. “Should I read it? I found these in the crawl space under Sam’s grandfather’s cottage. Tucked into a book. I—”

She stops short, turning to me with dawning horror. I barely see it. All I see is Josie in that crawl space, reading something, and when I notice, her light goes out for a moment. Then it comes on, and the page is gone.

She squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to do it like this. I didn’t mean to do it at all. I was going to confront him on my own. That’s why I moved out last night. I was working it through, because a lot of it didn’t make sense, but now, with all this…”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” My words come slow, echoing in my ears.

“I…”

“Tell me.”

She holds the letter awkwardly. “My dad and your mom were having…”

“An affair.” My voice is hollow. I say that because it’s the obvious conclusion, but her relief says she mistook that to mean I already knew or suspected.

“Yes. I found the letters while we were searching. I don’t know why they’d be there. In your grandfather’s crawl space.”

I look at Smits. “He found them, didn’t he? My grandfather. You’re the one who broke into the cottage looking for them. Did my grandfather blackmail you with them? Or just use them to make sure my mom never dared ask him for a penny?”

His jaw sets, and he looks at Josie. “It was a very long time ago, hon. Your mom and I had some troubles, and I was young and stupid—”

Her bitter laugh cuts him off. “I don’t give a damn about the affair. Well, I do, for Mom’s sake, but you’ve always treated her like shit. Just never shitty enough to make her leave. A garden-variety lousy husband.”

“Now, Josie—”

“The affair is irrelevant. That’s why I didn’t confront you or tell Sam.

The parts that bothered me were lines like this.

” She holds up the letter and reads. “Yes, I know we need to find someone before the end of the summer. I’m on it.

Your in-laws leave in a week, and Harris goes back early for class prep.

That’d be the ideal opportunity, when they’re gone but a few people are still passing through. We have time.”

My gut goes cold. “That was to my mother?”

Josie glances over and nods. “I’m sorry, Sam. I really am.”

“But I had to know.” I look at Smits. “You never killed anyone for the sacrifices, right? And it was my father and grandfather who knew about them.”

He doesn’t look at me. “Josie, hon. Read that again. It was just me talking about getting someone in to do some work around the property. Best timing was when just Sam and her mom were here, but there were still people passing through, looking to take on odd jobs.”

“The shed,” I whisper.

They both look my way.

I turn to Smits. “You or my mother found the journal when the shed was being rebuilt. Just before I was born. It’d been lost. Someone in my family decided to stop passing along the story of the nekkers.

That’s when our fortunes nosedived—and when the local disappearances stopped.

You and Mom resurrected the old practice. ”

He straightens. “All right. Yes. I found the journal. I gave it to your mom. We were…”

“Good friends,” Josie says sarcastically.

“We were friends, and I knew she liked historical documents. That’s what she did, right? A history teacher. She deciphered it and told me, and at first, it was a lark. We were young and goofing around.”

“Goofing around with folk magic requiring human sacrifice?” I say.