his hair’s longer and kinda straggly. He does wear those Harry Potter glasses, though.” She handed the journal back to Savannah. “So what happened next?” she asked.
Savannah read: Amos is gone—missing. And everyone’s looking for him because they believe he’s a serial killer. This morning, they made a gruesome discovery. A teardrop trailer where a couple of college kids slept alongside the river upstream was ransacked and there was evidence of an attack, although no bodies were found. The boys are missing and believed dead. They’re pretty sure the murder weapon was a hammer. I’m just sick; so is Frank. He’s been helping in the search. When he returned this afternoon, he was carrying something hidden. He’d taken off his shirt and wrapped it up. He wouldn’t tell me what it was and immediately went to the basement with it.
I’m terrified that it’s a body part or maybe he bought or borrowed a gun and doesn’t want me to know. When Frank left again to help in the search, I went down in the basement to see what he was hiding from me. I never found his shirt or whatever he might have hidden inside it. I guess I’ll have to shop for more of those lightweight plaid flannel shirts he likes.
I’m not alone today. If I were, I’d probably be hiding under the bed. They’ve left guards here in case Amos comes back. They found an abandoned skiff caught up in debris at the mouth of the river. Some think Amos was in that skiff and that, when it got caught, he fell into the lake and was washed down the falls into the raging waters. That last big rain and the melting snowpack have seriously impacted the flow of the river. They have a large search party out looking for him and the two missing men.
I’m crying as I write this—it’s hard to see the page through my tears. And I have to be honest. I hope to heaven that Amos has drowned. I hate, hate, hate that my child has anything from the gene pool that created the likes of Amos Sledge.
“That poor, tortured woman,” Colbi said, after an exaggerated silence. “I’ll bet that was the last time she ever came up here.” She turned to Iris, “Do you know whatever became of Craig’s parents?”
Iris tilted her head. “It seems to me Craig said his father died of a heart attack and his mother died soon after, in a nursing home. She had a stroke.”
“Probably from the stress of what happened that night at this cabin,” Colbi offered.
“I’m surprised Ellen didn’t burn the place down,” Margaret said, shaking her head.
“Well, it appears that she did her best to protect others from the evil she sensed here.”
“Do you mean by using the sage and salt,” Savannah asked.
Iris nodded.
“I wonder if they ever found Amos or his body,” Savannah said quietly. “Didn’t sound like it from what that old guy at the café said.” She turned to Iris. “So Craig has never mentioned anything to you about Amos?”
Iris shook her head. “But you’d better be sure I’m going to ask him. Ewww, gives me the creeps.”
“It didn’t sound like Craig was ever up here when Amos was—at least when the cousins were young adults.”
“Yeah, but from what Ellen says, he had some interactions with him when he was a kid.”
“How old would Amos be now?” Colbi asked. “Let’s see…what, around seventy? He could actually be living in a homeless community. He would probably blend right in.”
Iris was quiet for a moment, then said to Savannah and Margaret, “Maybe that’s who opened the door to your room last night and let the cats in.”
Colbi began laughing rather hysterically. “Or he was the one running across your beds.”
“Geez, Louise…” Margaret said. “Don’t do that, you guys.”
“What?”
“Scare me like that.”
Just then, the cats roared into the room from the guest bedroom. Rags jumped up onto the black vinyl chair and poked his head between the drape panels. He then dove off the chair, ran to the kitchen, jumped
Savannah read: Amos is gone—missing. And everyone’s looking for him because they believe he’s a serial killer. This morning, they made a gruesome discovery. A teardrop trailer where a couple of college kids slept alongside the river upstream was ransacked and there was evidence of an attack, although no bodies were found. The boys are missing and believed dead. They’re pretty sure the murder weapon was a hammer. I’m just sick; so is Frank. He’s been helping in the search. When he returned this afternoon, he was carrying something hidden. He’d taken off his shirt and wrapped it up. He wouldn’t tell me what it was and immediately went to the basement with it.
I’m terrified that it’s a body part or maybe he bought or borrowed a gun and doesn’t want me to know. When Frank left again to help in the search, I went down in the basement to see what he was hiding from me. I never found his shirt or whatever he might have hidden inside it. I guess I’ll have to shop for more of those lightweight plaid flannel shirts he likes.
I’m not alone today. If I were, I’d probably be hiding under the bed. They’ve left guards here in case Amos comes back. They found an abandoned skiff caught up in debris at the mouth of the river. Some think Amos was in that skiff and that, when it got caught, he fell into the lake and was washed down the falls into the raging waters. That last big rain and the melting snowpack have seriously impacted the flow of the river. They have a large search party out looking for him and the two missing men.
I’m crying as I write this—it’s hard to see the page through my tears. And I have to be honest. I hope to heaven that Amos has drowned. I hate, hate, hate that my child has anything from the gene pool that created the likes of Amos Sledge.
“That poor, tortured woman,” Colbi said, after an exaggerated silence. “I’ll bet that was the last time she ever came up here.” She turned to Iris, “Do you know whatever became of Craig’s parents?”
Iris tilted her head. “It seems to me Craig said his father died of a heart attack and his mother died soon after, in a nursing home. She had a stroke.”
“Probably from the stress of what happened that night at this cabin,” Colbi offered.
“I’m surprised Ellen didn’t burn the place down,” Margaret said, shaking her head.
“Well, it appears that she did her best to protect others from the evil she sensed here.”
“Do you mean by using the sage and salt,” Savannah asked.
Iris nodded.
“I wonder if they ever found Amos or his body,” Savannah said quietly. “Didn’t sound like it from what that old guy at the café said.” She turned to Iris. “So Craig has never mentioned anything to you about Amos?”
Iris shook her head. “But you’d better be sure I’m going to ask him. Ewww, gives me the creeps.”
“It didn’t sound like Craig was ever up here when Amos was—at least when the cousins were young adults.”
“Yeah, but from what Ellen says, he had some interactions with him when he was a kid.”
“How old would Amos be now?” Colbi asked. “Let’s see…what, around seventy? He could actually be living in a homeless community. He would probably blend right in.”
Iris was quiet for a moment, then said to Savannah and Margaret, “Maybe that’s who opened the door to your room last night and let the cats in.”
Colbi began laughing rather hysterically. “Or he was the one running across your beds.”
“Geez, Louise…” Margaret said. “Don’t do that, you guys.”
“What?”
“Scare me like that.”
Just then, the cats roared into the room from the guest bedroom. Rags jumped up onto the black vinyl chair and poked his head between the drape panels. He then dove off the chair, ran to the kitchen, jumped
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