Sarah suppressed a sigh. Her inquisitive, precious, irritating daughter. The trait of friendliness had been learned from the cradle. Sarah, on the other hand, would rather curl up for hours on her sofa in her tiny brick house at the edge of Sikeston, laptop across her knees as she compiled endless pages of fiction in her make-believe world with imaginary characters. For years she’d dreamed of having a novel published. It wasn’t as easy as she’d once thought. With Mom and Dad gone, would she ever be able to return to that?
“Nick’s really cool,” Emma said. “So’s Edward. We stayed up late last night and talked about Mom and Dad and Edward’s wife.”
“Aunt Peg.”
“He said you and Shelby always called her that.” Emma reached over and touched Sarah’s arm. “Please, please, don’t you think we can stay awhile?”
Sarah braced herself against this child’s well-known charm.
Emma turned and looked up at her, eyes large and entreating, a look Sarah had never been able to resist. “Did Nick tell you much about Gerard Vance?”
Sarah raised her eyebrows.
“The man who used to be a policeman down in Corpus Christi.”
“He told me a little.”
“He runs this homeless rehab place up at the top of the hills overlooking the mill. Isn’t that really great?”
“Homeless rehab?”
“Yeah. The guy married an old friend of yours, Megan Bradley?”
“Megan? Really?” With a sense of loss, Sarah realized she had so much catching up to do. She’d missed nearly seventeen years’ worth of Jolly Mill life.
“Yeah, she’s a doctor now, and she met Gerard at his mission in Texas. He looks for people living on the street who want a new start in life, and he moves them to the rehab place. Just up that way on the hill.” She pointed north. “He’s helping Nick research the...the deaths.” Her voice wobbled.
Sarah patted Emma’s knee. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m so sorry. This is hard, I know.” She blinked at the moisture that seemed so ever present in her own eyes the past three weeks. “Where are Nick and Edward now?”
Emma dabbed at her cheeks and sniffed. “Why do you call Edward by just his name when you always called his wife Aunt Peg?”
“Mom once told me it was a modified Southernism—instead of Miss Peg she was Auntie Peg, then the name shortened to Aunt when we got older. Edward insisted everyone call him Edward instead of Pastor or Reverend. He’s kind of a laid-back guy.”
“Edward said this is his only day to sleep late, so he’ll be up later. I think I heard the shower a while ago, so that’s probably Nick.”
Then now would be her only chance to get Emma out of here. “Emma, honey, I know you don’t want to think about it, but as I said, what if someone did cause those explosions? We could be in danger here, and Nick would be distracted if he has to see to our safety.”
“But we can help. You’re packing heat, aren’t you?”
Sarah blinked. “You mean, did I bring my Smith & Wesson?” she asked dryly.
“In the wheel well, where you keep it? John told you to always keep it near you for protection. A woman alone can never be too—”
“Yes, but I don’t ever want to have to use it, and it doesn’t have to come to that if we would just leave.”
“Nick got a couple more leads on his blog late last night,” Emma said. “New person, fake name, couldn’t trace it. Anyway, this person warned Nick to get on with his life if he wanted to keep it, and then they also mentioned how easily they could strike at any time. There was something about a party almost seventeen years ago?”
Sarah recoiled at the slap of those words. “The party?” So it was someone she’d known long ago. Someone, perhaps, who’d spiked the sodas at the going-away party Nora Thompson had thrown so the kids could say goodbye to Sarah’s identical twin, Shelby—a party thrown at Shelby’s request.
“Did Nick tell you about that?”
Emma shrugged. “He said someone spiked the soda. Edward said he thought the comment might be a prank. You know how sleazy people can get online.”
“I doubt Nick’s taking it casually. I’m not anymore.” All the more reason to get Emma safely out of town.
“Why?”
“Honey, some jerk slipped a bunch of ecstasy into the sodas at that party, and the kids all kind of went nuts. Whoever sent that message to Nick obviously knew about it and is probably still in town.”
Emma frowned up at her, scrunching her lips as she often did, which Mom had always warned her would give her wrinkles. “Edward would rather think it’s some kind of hate crime. You know, like maybe somebody who hates Christians found out about the retreat. We hear a lot of stories about church shootings.”
“But in Jolly Mill? This is the last place I can imagine that happening. Strangers couldn’t even find it. This place is isolated. Besides, as Nick pointed out to me, if they wanted to kill a bunch of preachers they’d have struck earlier. I think this was more focused.”
Emma took a shuddering breath, and Sarah wished she hadn’t said that.
“Has Nick gathered any more information about the retreat center on Spring River that got shut down because of a dioxin spill?”
Emma slumped back into the cushions. “No, but he told me about it.”
“So you can see why Dad might have been the one targeted. Hypothetically. He was instrumental not only in convincing the ministerial alliance to move their meeting place from Verona, but he spoke to others who met there, as well, and there was a general exodus.”
“Nick’s about to give up on that lead,” Emma said. “Not much to go on, and as Edward said, who’s going to wait more than thirty years to get their revenge? Nick made a few more calls last night. The retreat owner’s wife got remarried and moved away with their daughter about a year after he killed himself. Two of his brothers stayed on and farmed and did pretty well. Gerard Vance?”
“The ex-cop, yes.” Sarah smiled to herself. She could tell Emma was taken with Nick’s friend. What impressed Sarah was that Megan Bradley had married him. She wondered, however, how Alec Thompson had taken that. Megan and Alec dated for a couple of years in high school. Of course, who knew about life in Jolly Mill after Sarah and her family moved away?
“Gerard had a talk with both of the brothers, and they said he always struggled with depression. They never blamed anything but that, and Gerard believes them.”
“So Nick and Gerard are pursuing other leads?” Sarah asked.
“It’s kind of hard to dig up dirt on a well-loved pastor.” Never able to remain still for long, Emma sprang from the sofa and wandered through the room. “I drove through that town on my way here. Can you believe it’s tinier than Jolly Mill?”
Sometimes her quick subject changes were dizzying, but Sarah kept up. Barely. “Verona? Why did you drive that route?”
“I wanted to drive past the plant that processed Agent Orange during the Vietnam War. That’s, like, a gazillion years ago. That’s what the dioxin leak was, you know.”
“Emma, you went alone. At night.”
“When you think about it, it’s all kind of awful, huh?” Emma asked. “A tiny place in the middle of a peaceful farming community being used to make poison.”
“Which part of this whole thing isn’t awful?”
“Meeting