Page 146 of A Curse On Black Lake
I don’t know what to say, and Killian is staying tight-lipped.
“Yeah,” Wyatt says, staring at Killian. “So, Ms. Greer, was your garden like this, last time you were home?” Wyatt asks me.
Killian squeezes my shoulder, and my instinct is to lie because I don’t understand the bigger picture, and there’s only one person who would’ve been so careful, soobvious.
But maybe he should know. If Wyatt is responsible for this, he should know that I know. We’ve dug ourselves too deep into lies, and I won’t dig deeper with this one.
“Yes,” I rasp.
Wyatt’s dark scrutiny drills into me, and it’s making me uneasy.
“Did you do this to your garden?” he asks.
“No, I did not ruin my livelihood, Sheriff,” I snap.
“Can you explain why anyone would do this?” Wyatt asks.
I lift a shoulder, peeking at Killian. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Why didn’t you call us about it?” Wyatt asks.
“What happened to Ms. Usher?” Killian asks, ignoring Wyatt’s questions.
While they stare each other down, I peer at poor Hazel laying in the middle of my garden amongst the shredded plants. It all feels too coincidental.
I loved that dress with the little flowers all over it. It was one I made with Grams. Yet another thing I’ve lost with her. It was also the same dress I was wearing when Wyatt came to ask me about Killian’s alibi.
Hazel’s head is angled strangely, looking up into the sky, as if she’s posing for an old Renaissance painting. Her knees are together, angled to one side, and her arms are placed, one above her head and the other across her stomach. The pose is unnatural. Anyone who’s looking can tell it was done with intention, maybe even a sick form of love. I lean forward a littlemore, and it’s hard to tell, but the way her hand is positioned above her head, there might be something in it.
Pulling away from Killian, blood rushes in my ears as I get closer to Hazel, and one of the deputies lifts his arm, stopping me. But I’m close enough to see that the Monitio Flos De Letum is carefully laid in her hand. Exactly as Killian described it to me.
The lavender surrounding her has been meticulously cut closer to the end of the stem, like it usually is when it’s being harvested. And every stem is the same length as the others. The only way that could happen is if someone went through and measured each of them. When harvesting from a plant, they are rounded, so the stems will always be relatively uneven.
I take a step back from Deputy Redding, keeping me from getting closer, and Killian’s eyes meet mine in silent communication. He’s thinking what I’m thinking.
Whoever killed Hazel, murdered the woman Killian found.
And whoever killed those women … is after me.
What would Grams say about all of this? The moment I saw my garden torn up, it felt like a violation of my peace, my family,me.But a shredded garden was nothing. Now? I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at this space the same. A place of healing has been bloodied by unnatural death.
I reach for Killian’s hand, seeking the comfort only he seems to be able to give me.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Greer, you can’t stay here. Your property is a crime scene, and because we only have one tech, it’s going to take a while. But that doesn’t seem to be an issue for you. Is it?”
Killian’s jaw twitches under the pressure he’s putting it through.
“I’ll be fine,” I mumble.
“Good, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions before you leave. But without Killian, please,” Wyatt says.
“No—”
“I’ve got it,” I mumble.
He reluctantly lets go of my hand, and I follow Wyatt so we’re out of earshot from Killian.
Chapter forty-six
