want her to worry. But Holt had seen that tattoo before.
On the man who’d murdered his father.
Chapter Three
Alex poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it and decaffeinated tea for Sarah over to the breakfast nook table. The drugs had kicked in, so Sarah appeared less hysterical and more focused than she had been earlier, which was a relief to Alex. She needed Sarah’s mind sharp if they were going to find Erika, especially as the police were tapped out on avenues of investigation.
“How are you feeling?” Alex asked, studying her cousin’s face. Some of the color had returned, eliminating the ghostlike look she’d worn earlier. The skin around her eyes was puffy and red from crying, but that was hardly unexpected.
“I’m as good as I’m getting for now.”
“Do you want anything to eat?”
“No. My stomach couldn’t handle it.”
“Okay, but don’t go too long without having something … even dry toast.”
Sarah looked up and gave her a small smile. “Yes, mom.”
Alex slid into the chair across from Sarah and pulled a small pad of paper out of her purse to take notes, then changed her mind and reached for her recorder. “Do you mind if I tape this? I want to make sure I get everything.”
“That’s fine,” Sarah said and looked at her, a guilty expression on her face. “I’m sorry for not telling you Holt was back in town.”
“I was bound to hear about it sooner or later,” Alex said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“I guess. I’d hoped that he’d figure out what he was doing next and be gone before you crossed paths.”
“Well, it’s happened and no one shouted or cried. It’s been ten years, and we’ve both moved on with our lives, but I appreciate your concern.”
“We’re cousins. Looking out for each other is what we do, right?”
Alex reached across the small table and squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Absolutely. Have you told your mother?”
“No. She’s not … good. Not since Dad died.”
“I’ll call the nurse’s aide tomorrow and talk to her about your mom’s care. Let’s keep this between us for now.” Sarah’s mother had been in a nursing home for several years battling lung cancer, but ever since the death of her husband she’d seemed to give up entirely.
“Are you ready to talk?”
Sarah nodded and Alex slipped a blank tape into the recorder and turned it on. “Start with what you told me earlier, so I can get it on tape, okay?”
Her cousin recounted the details she’d provided earlier with Alex interrupting to clarify names and times. When she was done, Alex said, “When you called me, you said the witch took Erika. What did you mean?”
Sarah stared blankly over Alex’s shoulder and out the window. “You know what I meant.”
Alex felt a trickle of fear run up her spine. “That stuff about the witch was all a story. You know … something parents made up to keep us kids from playing in the swamp.”
“Was it, really?” Sarah locked her gaze on Alex. “Do you know that for certain? You saw the same thing on that island as I did. Are you going to deny that?”
A chill passed over Alex and she crossed her arms and leaned on the table. “I’m not denying what we saw, nor that it scared the life out of me. But the police never found any proof that the woman who lived there took those kids.”
“The witch that lived there,” Sarah corrected. “The police didn’t want to believe.”
“Believe what?” Alex blew out a breath. “That a witch on an island in a swamp kidnapped children and used them as sacrifices in a voodoo ritual? Of course, they didn’t want to believe something like that, but it wouldn’t stop them from investigating. There was never any evidence that those kids had been on the island.”
“The evidence was burned in the ceremony. You know something about the old ways, Alex, even if your current life has you locked into science. You know the swamps of Mystere Parish are full of people who practice black arts and have for hundreds of years.”
Alex threw up her hands. “Even if it were all true, what makes you think Erika is on the island?”
“Because.” Sarah rose from the table and walked into the kitchen. She climbed onto a step stool to open a cabinet above the refrigerator and pulled out something in a brown paper bag. “I found this in her room, hidden under her bed.”
She opened the bag and pulled out a doll with blond hair and blue eyes and placed it on the table. The blood rushed to Alex’s head and she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
It couldn’t be. Not after all this time.
“Where did she get this?” she asked, struggling to maintain a calm tone.
“Not in any store, that’s for sure. I looked it up online. That doll hasn’t been manufactured in over thirty years.”
“Did you ask her?”
“Of course I asked. After I had a heart attack and then managed to regain control. She said she found it in the backyard at the edge of the swamp, but she was lying.”
Alex stared. “How do you know?”
Sarah shrugged. “She’s my kid. I know when she’s lying. I pushed the issue, but she stuck to her story.”
“Have you told her about … I mean warned her in a way she could understand?”
“I told her an old, evil woman lived in the swamp and that it wasn’t safe for little girls to go into the swamp without an adult. She’s always stayed away before. I checked all her shoes and her rubber boots, but there was no sign she’d been in the swamp or tried to wash away the evidence.”
Alex’s mind raced, trying to absorb everything Sarah said … trying to make sense of all of it. “When did you find the doll?”
“Three days ago.” Sarah slumped back into her chair. “And then there was the crow.”
“What crow?”
“It was on the clothesline outside Erika’s bedroom window every morning for the last week when I went in to wake her. I closed the blinds and went outside to shoo it away, but every morning, it was right back in place.”
Sarah shivered. “Last night, I heard a noise out back. I looked out the kitchen window and could make out the outline of the crow just sitting there. Like it was watching her, even though the blinds were closed.” She looked straight at Alex. “You know it’s an omen.”
“No.” Alex shook her head. “I don’t
