Page 136 of Forever Dead

Connor had spent most of the evening telling himself Harlan County was quieter than it felt.

The roads said otherwise.

Traffic moved steadily along the two-lane routes outside Elmsview, more than he would expect on an ordinary evening. Families headed toward church Halloween parties and school events. Pickup trucks carried teenagers in costumes between houses. Hand-painted signs for haunted barns, pumpkin patches and hayrides appeared at intersections where the only usual landmark was a mailbox or cattle gate.

Meekie’s corn maze seemed to be drawing half the county.

Connor passed its entrance shortly after eight. Strings of orange bulbs marked the field edge, and floodlights illuminated a gravel parking area packed with cars. A wooden sign painted with a grinning scarecrow leaned beside the road. Beyond it, the corn rose above head height in a broad dark mass stretching toward the next hill.

Miller Road ran along the far side of the field. Visitors sometimes parked on its verge rather than use Meekie's crowded main lot.

The radio crackled as he drove on.

Nothing urgent. A noise complaint near Loyall. Two boys setting firecrackers off behind a grocery store. Somebody had reported a loose dog wearing what the caller described as a vampire cape.

Halloween was tomorrow.

Connor hoped the county made it that far without giving him another body.

The thought brought Eleanor Marsh back to him, then Patricia Vanes.

Different deaths. Different scenes. Same black, leathery material under their fingernails. Dr. Foss had said the fragments resembled human skin, although he couldn't identify them with certainty.

Selena had suggested a mask.

Connor had tried not to picture that.

His phone sat in the console beside him, screen dark. He had nearly called Selena twice since leaving the station. Both times he had stopped himself. She needed one evening without the case, and if he phoned, she would hear something in his voice and start asking questions until he told her everything.

The radio snapped louder.

“Sheriff?”

Connor reached for the handset. “Go ahead, Cheryl.”

“I’ve got a possible disturbance at the Ellison place.”

His attention sharpened. “Which Ellison?”

“Nora. Old farmhouse up on the ridge past Meekie’s.”

Connor was familiar with it. White farmhouse, dark roof, sitting alone above the cornfields. Nora Ellison had lived there since her husband died years earlier. Connor knew her from the pharmacy. She'd worked behind the counter for years, and he could hardly remember going in without seeing her there.

“What kind of disturbance?”

“Three teenagers were walking back from the maze toward where they parked on Miller Road. They say they heard a woman scream from the direction of the house.”

“When?”

“Five minutes ago, maybe six.”

Connor checked the mirror and turned at the next junction.

“Anybody contacted Nora?”

“I tried the landline twice and her cell once. Nothing.”

“Where are the kids?”