She never wanted to set foot on this farm again. Her family’s blood now coursed through its soil. She imagined the corn and alfalfa rising from the earth stunted and black with rot.
The deputy called for more help and secured the barn while Matthew, Caroline, and Josie huddled together beneath the tree.
The ambulance was the first to arrive, speeding down the gravel road, siren blasting, dust rising around the rig in a gritty mist.
Next came the sheriff in his cruiser and then Agents Santos and Randolph who drove up in their black sedan.
“I’m sorry, Josie,” Santos stopped to say. “You’ve lost more than a person should have to.”
Josie didn’t know how to respond, so she said nothing. She sat on the grass and leaned her back against the trunk of the tree and covered her face. Caroline sat down next to Josie, pulled her close and they cried together.
The EMTs came out of the barn, their stretcher empty. “Aren’t you going to take him with you?” Josie cried, feeling hysteria bubbling inside her chest. They couldn’t just leave Ethan in the feed bunk, covered in straw.
“No, I’m sorry,” the paramedic said apologetically. “The sheriff and the police have to do their investigation. Someone else will come for your brother. But when they do, they’ll take good care of him, I promise.”
Josie wanted to believe him, but so many people had been telling her how everything was going to be okay. Nothing was okay, would never be okay again.
“Agent Santos will want to talk to us again,” Matthew said, rubbing his hand across his face. “When will this end?” he pleaded.
Agent Santos made her way toward them. She had removed her black suit jacket and was sweating through her cobalt blue blouse. “We’ll have the crime scene techs go over everything, collect evidence. But it does appear…” She stopped speaking as if suddenly remembering Josie was only twelve.
“Go on,” Matthew urged. “Josie has the right to know.”
“It does appear as if it’s another homicide,” Agent Santos said, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand.
Though Matthew had prayed that Ethan would be found safe there was a part of him who knew his grandson was already dead. He knew Ethan wasn’t capable of what people were whispering about. Though the medical examiner would make the final determination, it looked like Ethan had been beaten and strangled to death before being hidden in the feed bunk beneath a blanket of hay by the monster who had killed Lynne and William.
Ethan had been here the entire time, right beneath their noses.
Matthew clutched Josie’s hand and watched as deputies clustered around Agent Santos. “We need to regroup,” Santos said. “Any word on the phone calls to the Allen house? The calls were obviously not made by Ethan. We have to find out who’s behind them.”
“Not yet. I’ll check on it,” Randolph said.
“Let’s gather everyone together. See where we are with the sex offenders in the area. And we need to find Ethan’s truck. If we find that truck, I think we’ll find the girl.”
Matthew hoped they would find the Allen girl but feared she met the same fate as the others. There was just Josie left, Matthew realized. She was all they had left. They were all she had.
Search and rescue volunteer Sylvia Lee brought the T-shirt close to the dog’s nose, and Jupiter, her one-hundred-and-ten-pound bloodhound, snuffled at the fabric.
“Go find,” she ordered, and Jupiter lifted his long, wrinkled face and sniffed the air. Jupiter focused his attention on the trampoline near where the missing thirteen-year-old girl was last seen. He circled the trampoline and then turned back toward the house stopping at the barn and lingering momentarily.
He lowered his snout and trotted toward the cornfield. Sylvia held tightly to the long rope that connected to the dog’s harness as Jupiter pulled her along. Though it was still early, Sylvia was already sweating, and the cuffs of her pants were drenched with morning dew.
Jupiter stopped just short of the corn but once again changed course and headed past the house, up the lane, and toward the road.
As soon as he stepped onto the gravel, Jupiter paused momentarily, his nose testing the air. He was a dignified-looking dog with a wrinkled face and solemn brown eyes. He seemed to understand the gravity of his work, understood that people depended on him to bring their loved ones home. He took his job very seriously.
Jupiter hesitated. He took a few steps toward the west, stopped, and then looked to the east. Sylvia was patient. If the girl had come this way, Jupiter would find the scent. Back and forth, Jupiter paced. He seemed intent on a spot just off to the west but then quickly lost interest. This could mean many things: the scent could be fading, the girl could have gotten into a vehicle and driven off, or she didn’t move in that direction.