Page 69 of The Premonition at Withers Farm

“I would hardly call that evil.”

“A foreshadowing then? Of what is coming. That imperfect person whose primary motivation is to satisfy one’s own pleasures.”

“That’s a bad thing?” Perliett thought of her morning coffee and was fairly certain she’d be willing to follow in the footsteps of the Cornfield Ripper if someone were to threaten that pleasure.

“It is when it hurts another.”

Perhaps she’d been too flippant about her retaliation in the face of her coffee forfeiture. But still... “Most men and women do not act on the basest of carnal motivations,though. You can hardly compare a child’s tantrum to the Cornfield Ripper’s brutality.”

“Certainly not the outcome. Or the consequences. And not even the impact on those around them. You are correct. But in the end, both land on the same side of the scale regarding right or wrong.”

“What does any of this have to do with right now?” Perliett grew agitated. George was simply an intellectual who had married his intellect with his faith, and that became annoying because of its arguable truth.

“Do not put your trust in anyone right now.”

Perliett tilted her head. “Even you?”

“My argument includes everyone, if you take me literally.”

“So, I should be afraid of my mother?”

“I didn’t say to be afraid. I said to not put your trust in a person right now.”

“But—”

“Kilbourn has proven to not be a safe place. Think carefully. There are no strangers here—except for Mr. Bridgers, another topic altogether—which means one of us has a propensity to act on the great violence in our heart.”

“But not my mother,” Perliett said.

“I merely am saying to be wise.”

Perliett scowled. “You are talking in circles. I have this feeling you have something else you’re trying to say and you’re avoiding it.”

“Because you’ll accuse me of being high-handed.”

“Perhaps.”

George rubbed his chin with his hand. Perliett heard the scratch of stubble against his palm. He took a deep breath and then released it. “I... Never mind.” He shook his head, deciding against saying whatever was on the tip of his tongue.

“George...” Perliett surprised herself by reaching out and resting her hand over his.

He jerked as if her touch burned him. She realized hergloves had come off sometime between finding Millie’s body and now. Skin on skin, the heat that rose surprised her, but it also stunned her enough that she couldn’t remove her hand.

She couldn’t move.

They locked eyes. A long, silent moment.

George cleared his throat but didn’t pull away. “Be cautious. In everything. You play with fire until it burns you, Perliett, and you still go back for more. It keeps me up at night.”

“Worrying about me is not your responsibility.” Perliett was amazed at the warmth that flooded her. She hadn’t expected that. Not from George Wasziak.

He drew back his hand. His scowl returned, and he sniffed. “No. You arenotmy responsibility.”

For some reason, Perliett felt George stated it more so to remind himself than to assure her.

I am a beast.

Kills the robin.