The captain nodded. “I talked to her a bit after Charlie’s murder. She acted shocked and upset that someone had tried to re-create the whole horror of what happened so long ago. I didn’t press her too hard at the time because it was just a single murder. There was no pattern yet. But, after Hank and Angel were killed I had a hunch that she knew more than she was saying. We called your aunt a couple times but she didn’t answer. Then I found out why. I drove up and found her dead on the floor, right here, in front of the fireplace. Just like the others, her head had been cut off.”
Jenn shivered. Her dad had never told her Meredith was murdered! She’d never really thought too hard about where or how her aunt died either. She hadn’t wanted to.
“But . . . assuming it was even possible that he was brought back from the dead, why would Jenn’s uncle hurt Meredith if this was all about revenge for him?” Kirstin asked.
“He wouldn’t,” the captain agreed. “It wasn’t him. Whoever killed your aunt was not the same person who killed Charlie and the DeVrieses.”
He stood up and walked toward the fireplace, paced back and forth while he talked. “Meredith’s murder was different. Not to be disrespectful,” he added, addressing Jenn, “but the way the killer took off her head was not like the others. No finesse. And the pumpkin he left in its place was . . . remedial. Crudely carved triangle eyes and mouth. A hack-job jack-o’-lantern. Not like your uncle at all.” He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t done by the person who killed Erik and Charlie. Whoever killed your aunt was different. I figure he didn’t want her to talk. She knew something about all this, and I would bet my life that she set it all in motion. But she must have had help, and whoever was helping her got scared and tried to stop it.”
“But it didn’t stop,” Jenn said.
Jones shook his head. “No, it didn’t stop.”
Nick stared at a stone on the right side of the fireplace, the stone that covered the Ouija board. “Genie’s out of the bottle,” he said.
Jenn was quiet for a moment before she looked at the captain. “You say the heads of those kids were never found?”
Jones nodded.
Kirstin frowned. “You don’t think . . .”
Jenn nodded. “I think you might find them kids just outside our back door. Someone kept a bunch of skulls in our kitchen, locked in a drawer.”
Jones released a long sigh. “Of course they were. Let’s take a look.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
The day that Brian died never seemed to end. After watching cops march back and forth through the house for a couple hours, their numbers slowly growing, an ambulance team arrived. Two burly men disappeared into the back bedroom and reappeared a short time later with Brian’s body on a stretcher. He was covered in a white sheet.
Captain Jones took Jenn, Kirstin and Nick back to the station to get formal statements, and so they all relived the night and morning yet again. He took them one by one into his office while the others waited in a small room with an older woman named Edie. She appeared to be the captain’s secretary as well as the station’s dispatcher, receptionist and barista. She kept coming out from behind her desk to refill their cups from a coffeepot kept on a warmer next to her.
They were still at the station when Officer Barkiewicz returned. The captain excused himself so that he and his subordinate could talk. The two stepped into a conference room with a window facing the reception area, and Jenn watched Barkiewicz gesturing animatedly behind the glass. The captain only nodded. At last, the captain opened his mouth to speak, patted Officer Barkiewicz’s shoulder and then reopened the conference room door.
“We’re going to need a day or two to comb the house,” he announced to Jenn. “I’d like you to stay someplace accessible, in case we need to talk.”
“Are we suspects now?” Kirstin asked, her forehead lined from frustration or exhaustion.
The captain shook his head. “Given what I told you about earlier, you’re not very high on my list. But I need to know where you are.”
“We don’t really know anyone—” Jenn began, but Nick cut her off.
“They can stay with me for a couple days, if it’s okay for us to go back to San Francisco. I need to get back to work. I can give you my contact and my bosses, if that helps.”
The captain thought a minute and then nodded. “Let Edie know where you’ll be and how I can reach you.”
The woman seemed to appear out of nowhere with a clipboard, and Nick wrote down his address and phone number. Then he passed the clipboard to the girls, who added their cell phone numbers.
“We’ll need to get some clothes and things from the house,” Jenn said. “Will they let us in?”
The captain nodded. “I’ll let them know on the radio that you’re coming.” He handed Jenn a business card with his name and RIVER’S END POLICE DEPARTMENT typed on it in neat, nondescript lettering. “Check in with me tomorrow, if you would. Officer Barkiewicz will drive you back.”
The trio followed the younger cop out into the bright sunshine of midafternoon, squinting. The day seemed distant, surreal. They had just spent the last couple hours in a police station talking about a murder, about the headless body of the man Kirstin had slept with the night before. About Nick’s best friend. About a killer who took heads and left pumpkins. It didn’t seem possible. At the same time, it was.
The three smooshed into the backseat of Officer Barkiewicz’s squad car. The policeman didn’t say anything as he got them onto Route 1 and then drove up the hill through the town.
When they arrived, the surreal feeling of their situation increased. The place looked innocent despite the squad cars parked in the driveway, just a quiet little brick home overlooking heaven. The fields of grass sloped away and down toward a quiet town. The Russian River shimmered from blue to white in the distance, rays from the setting sun touching the water and setting it afire. Jenn blinked away a tear and looked back at the house, at the brown hills speckled with the emerald highlights of trees.
How could this happen here? she wondered. What exactly had her aunt wrought? Somehow, she had to find out. Because clearly the Pumpkin Man was not confined to River’s End. It was confusing, really. Mostly the murder spree had been confined to a very specific group of people, but the killer had taken her father’s life in Chicago. And it had taken Brian, another innocent. Would she be next? The thought of its shadow looming across her bed as she slept made her shiver.
The house was quiet as Barkiewicz walked them to Kirstin’s room to get her things. Jenn put her arm around her friend’s shoulders as they stopped in the doorway. The room looked cold. All that had changed since the morning was that the bed had been stripped and the body removed, but still their surroundings seemed . . . unfriendly. Jenn squeezed Kirstin’s shoulder in sympathy. The stains of Brian’s blood were still visible on the mattress.
“Go get your stuff,” Kirstin said. “I’ll be okay.” She pulled away from Jenn and got a suitcase from the closet.
Nick, Jenn and Officer Barkiewicz went to Jenn’s room, and she pulled out her own case as Nick sat on the bed.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Officer Barkiewicz said. “I just want to go down to the basement and let the others know we’re here.”
Jenn piled a couple pairs of pants, a few shirts, some underwear and socks into the suitcase, and then she laid her long white bookworm nightshirt over the top. She closed the case and went into the bathroom to gather her toothbrush, hairbrush and other necessities, which she slipped into the outside compartment; then she stood in the center of the room, surveying her dresser and bed. It was strange to pack when she didn’t know exactly when she was coming back or what she might need in the meantime.