Page 101 of The Witch’s Orchard

I shake my head.

“No,” I say. “No, Deena didn’t know Janice was in the garden. She told me when I first questioned her that if she’d known Janice wasn’t in the house, she’d never have left without letting her know.”

“So it wasn’t Deena talking to Janice?”

I look back at Dwight Hoyle’s statement.

I saw Janice Andrews working in the garden when I got to the house. She was taking water from the burst pipe and pouring it over the garden. After I finished, I left the barn and heard her talking to someone. She was saying something about the weather. Something about the heat killing her zucchini. As I left, I waved to her, but whoever she was talking to was around the other side of the barn. I didn’t see them. I went back into the barn to get the pipe so I could take it for scrap. It took me a while to get it and my toolbox situated. Once I did, I went to my truck and saw that piano teacher woman. We talked for a minute, just saying hello. And then I left. I didn’t see anyone else.

“Someone else was there,” I say again. “But who?”

“And he doesn’t mention any scarecrow,” he says.

“No,” I say. “But he told Mack. Mack said something about it creeped out Dwight. Picture a scarecrow. Tell me what you see.”

He swallows a big bite of pepper chicken and then closes his eyes.

“Burlap face. Like a sack. Maybe painted. An old hat. Overalls, usually. But sometimes just old worn-out clothes. A flannel shirt and jeans. Stuffed with straw.”

“Yeah,” I say. “That’s what I picture too.”

I poke at my food for a few moments and then say, “Molly’s kidnapping is an outlier. Jessica was taken from what is essentially a public place. The playground outside of a church. Olivia was taken from a church picnic in the park. But Molly was taken from her own house. In broad daylight. Who else could’ve been there?”

AJ shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Everyone around here leaves their doors unlocked. Even now. Even after everything this town has been through. And Molly was sitting right there in the front room.”

I groan and mash one palm into my forehead, as if that will make my thoughts form some kind of cohesive solution. “Uggh. I don’t know. I feel like I’m not any closer to figuring this out than when Max hired me. And all I’ve done is stir up trouble and probably get Molly killed when she wasapparentlyjust fine all this time.”

“Annie…” he says. “She wasn’t fine.”

“No, I know,” I breathe. “Whoever took Molly and Jessica left those applehead dolls in their place. It’s not the work of someone in their right mind and—”

I stop and look toward the door, alert. There’s a car outside. Voices. It’s not Max. It’s female. There’s a low moaning. Ashushingsound. I look at the clock. It’s just after eight.

AJ and I are both off our stools and across the room by the time there’s a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I ask, hand on my gun.

“Annie? It’s Nicole Jacobs. Can you please open up?”

I open the door.

Nicole is standing there wrapped up in her coat and scarf. Leaning on her, looking disheveled and pissed, is Nicole’s sister, Olivia Jacobs.

THIRTY-FOUR

AJ AND I TRADEa look and then I step backward and let the girls inside.

“Please tell me you did not kidnap your sister,” I say, closing the door behind them.

Nicole rolls her eyes before helping Olivia out of her heavy coat.

“She’s stronger than I am,” Nicole says, taking off her coat and flopping it and Olivia’s across the arm of the nearest chair. “I can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. Come on, Liv.”

She leads Olivia to the sofa. Olivia glares at Nicole but then, finally, sits. She looks around the room, wide-eyed, and begins to rock back and forth.

“I heard moaning,” I say.