Page 45 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow
I walk over and shine my own cell-phone light on it. There’s blood on the blade, and when I bend, I see bits of reddish-brown fur.
My breath catches and my voice wobbles as I rise. “Someone did use this to cut up the fox.”
“Yes.”
“You think it was Ben? But why would he leave the blood and fur on it?”
“What’s down beside the hatchet, Sam?”
Frowning, I follow her light to some kind of fabric on the shed floor. I prod at it with my foot and startle when I see what it is.
“My gardening gloves,” I say. “I used them yesterday, when I was pulling some weeds.”
“Ben didn’t take those gloves. They wouldn’t fit him.”
“Okay, so…? Whoever cut up the fox used the gloves and hatchet I left outside. They also presumably have a key to the shed—or know how to pick the lock.”
Gail’s gaze pierces into mine, searching, her shoulders stiff. Then she slumps. “This is my fault.”
“What’s your fault? That?” I wave at the hatchet and gloves. “I’m the one who left them out.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she says. “What my father did to you is horrific, Sam. Cruel in a way I can’t fathom. But he knew you’d come here and try to spend the month. That youhadto, with your mother’s situation. And I didn’t stop you.”
“I’m an adult, Gail. You couldn’t have stopped me from coming here. And I don’t understand what that has to do with…” I wave at the hatchet.
“Oh, baby.” Her eyes fill, tears spilling as she reaches for me.
I slowly back up. “I’m very confused and a little scared. What is going on?”
“You should never have had to come back here, Sam, and I understand how badly you need to leave. To get away without it being your fault.”
“I really do not understand—”
“No one would blame you if you left now. After seeing someone in the shed. After finding a rabbit and a fox mutilated on our front step. No one would blame you, but honey…” Her eyes meet mine. “Ineverwould have blamed you.”
“I don’t…” I trail off, my chest constricting as I realize what she’s saying. “You… you think I did those things? Imutilated—”
“The animals were already dead. That’s what Sheriff Smits said.”
“So?” I say, my voice rising. “You seriously believe I staged all this as an excuse to flee?”
“We don’t need to talk about this. We can just go.”
“I don’t want to go. I’ve made that clear. I’m spooked by what’s happening—”
“Not nearly enough,” she murmurs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
When she doesn’t answer, I say, “You’re implying that I’ve beentoocalm? That the fact I’m trying very hard not to show you how freaked out I am is proof that I did this? That the fact that I don’t want to leave is proof? I stayed calm so youwouldn’tinsist I leave. Ifakedit.”
“Because you don’t want to be responsible for us leaving. You knew after those dead animals I’d make the decision for you.”
I want to scream. She’s not hearing me. She’s made up her mind, and she’s not listening. I take a deep breath and focus on logic.
“So, according to you, I mutilated a dead rabbit,” I say. “Then I must have cleaned the hatchet, because you saw me using it yesterday. But when I chop up a dead fox, I leave blood and fur on the blade and the gloves, and I put them in the shed. Where Ben is almost certain to see them when he fixes the light or the hole.”
“You made a mistake because you’re upset and not thinking straight.”
