Page 48 of The Premonition at Withers Farm
I, said the Fly,
with my little teeny eye,
I saw him die.
“Well, that’s just a nursery rhyme.” Perliett attempted to disregard the shiver that ran through her. A horrible nursery rhyme, whether it was about an actual robin bird or some notable person from history. “No mother would recite this to their child at bedtime, but—”
Millie snatched it back from Perliett. “Nosuitorwould write it in a love letter either.”
“How do you know that was the intent?” Perliett inquired, not trying to negate Millie’s concern, but also trying to understand what it even meant and, again, why Millie would bring it to her in the dead of night.
“Because,” Millie said as she folded it hastily, stuffing it back into her handbag, “I found itwithEunice’s love letters. Not with general correspondence. They were all tied together with a ribbon.” She lifted her eyes. “I think it’s a threat. I think Eunice’s killer was taunting her. I believe Eunice was hiding this ... this horrid letter from the family. She wasafraid, Perliett. It is a threat, veiled by a child’s nursery rhyme, but a threat nonetheless.”
Perliett considered her words before responding too hastily. “You believe Eunice knew her killer.”
“Yes.” Millie nodded emphatically. “I believe he arranged a rendezvous with her. It’s the only explanation as to why she wasn’t in the house during the night.”
“As you are now?” Perliett couldn’t resist pointing out the irony.
Millie nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”
“A poem about bloodletting would not inspire me to leave my home at midnight to meet up with a young man,” Perliett said, challenging the girl’s theory.
Millie nodded again. “I thought so as well. But then this evening, when I put my mother to rest in bed, she startedreciting‘Cock Robin.’ Why? She never recited it to us as children. I’ve never heard her even acknowledge the nursery tale’s existence.”
“Your mother wrote the letter perhaps?” It was farfetched, but Perliett was straining to find connections.
“Of course not!” Millie scowled in frustration. “It’s not her handwriting. It’s notanyone’shandwriting that I’m familiar with!” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m not explaining this well at all. Eunice received that letter, then she was killed. Now my mother is reciting itaftermistakingyoufor Eunice in the churchyard. Mother mistookmefor Eunice the other day as well. She keeps saying she’s seen Eunice, and at first I assumed it was you or I and she was confusing us with Eunice. But I’m uncertain now. Our mother knew nothing about Eunice’s letters. So how would she know to recite the same nursery rhyme? Eunicehasto be speaking with her! Your own mother would understand this!”
Perliett met Millie’s desperate expression with her own strained smile. Her bedtime thoughts plaguing her with new doubts as well as new devotions. Why couldn’t itallbe true? Spirits visiting and God in His supremacy? A marriage of the two? For some reason, that idea seemed to offend both realms.
Millie continued, “What happened here—during the evening with your mother—my sister and brother-in-law told me about the window shattering. Eunice is unsettled because she’s trying to warnus! You and me!We’renext, Perliett, don’t you see? Eunice is speaking from the other side!”
Unwelcome chills ran through Perliett. Ones that gave further credence to her mother’s beliefs and challenged Perliett’s own confused faith.
“Have you spoken to the police—to Detective Poll? Take him the letter about Cock Robin. Why come to me?” Perliett leaned in earnest toward Millie. “It’s the middle of the night. Why put yourself in danger by walking alone in the dark when you can speak with Detective Poll in the morning?”
Millie gave her a look of bewilderment that implied she couldn’t understand why Perliett couldn’t see. “You truly believe the police will put any credibility in this letter?” She held up the missive. “Do they offer such to your mother?”
Perliett pressed her lips together in silence.
Millie leaned forward, fervent and urgent. “I came to save you, Perliett.Hecomes in the night. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t warn you in time. Now I’m so glad I did!”
“What do you mean?” Perliett drew back. She was wondering if Eunice’s death had aggravated Millie’s own senses. While she didn’t discount that Eunice might attempt to make contact, Millie’s erratic behavior was concerning.
“Because of the danger!” Millie waited expectantly for Perliett to realize whatever it was Millie assumed Perliett knew. After a moment, Millie’s face fell, and her shoulders sagged as awareness flooded her eyes. “You haven’t seen it, have you?”
“Seen what?” Perliett frowned. She wanted to go to bed and sleep away this confusing night’s visit. She couldn’t rightly allow Millie to walk home now. Not even if Millie was completely wrong. It wasn’t safe. She knew that from personal experience.
Millie closed her eyes tight for a long moment, then opened them. “There.” She stretched her arm out, pointing toward the top stair of the porch. “It’s the true reason I avoided knocking. I didn’t want to pass by it until you made me come to the door.”
Perliett noticed a small dark lump at the top of the stairs. Her throat tightened with a wariness she couldn’t explain, even as she rose to investigate. Her bare feet padded across the porch until she came to the mass. Bending her knees, Perliett lowered herself to see details in the depths of the night.
Her hand clamped over her mouth.
The small, broken bundle lay prostrate. Feathers twisted and ruffled. Beak partially open. The dead robin stared up atPerliett in death. An omen deliberately placed at her doorstep.
“Who killed Cock Robin?” Millie whispered from the porch swing.
