fall?â
âYeah, guess so.â What was this? A job interview?
âYouâll like it.â He scratched at the swelling mosquito bite on his neck. âMy oldest daughter went there. Good teachers, small classes.â
We took a sharp turn down a gravel road that seemed to stretch for miles. Branches and vines slapped at the sides of the patrol car. He steered into a clearing; thick stands of thorns scraped down the side of the vehicle like a witchâs fingernails.
âThere goes my new paint job,â the cop grumbled. He brought the car to a stop on the side of a narrow dirt road.
I climbed out, leaving Benny strapped inside with his cup. I leaned over and kissed his head before shutting the car door. âI'll be right back,â I whispered.
âWatch your step, young lady,â the cop said, leading the way.
Spongy moss and ferns squished beneath my feet. A few yards away, I spotted the bus, cloaked in weeds and vines, camouflaged in foliage. My heart dropped. It looked as if someone had tried to hide it on purpose. The cop waded through the brambles like a bull. I followed, my mind racing with all kinds of horrible possibilities.
I gripped the passenger side door handle, pulled it open and screamed.
A pigâs head with cataract gray eyes sat on the driverâs seat. Flies buzzed around the snout dripping with snot. A white circle of thick granules surrounded the decapitated head. Salt?
I slammed the passenger door shut, my throat tight and my stomach churning.
âWhatâs the matter?â the cop asked.
I stared into his eyes and then at the mosquito bite on his neck the size of a quarter.
âT-thereâs something dead in there.â I pointed at the bus.
Officer Cain moved past me, yanked the door open and waved his hand in front of his nose. âOh for heavenâs sake. When are these swamp-hicks gonna stop this damn nonsense!â He closed the door and rolled his eyes. âDonât pay any attention to it. Just some silly old superstitions. Iâll get rid of it and then you can grab your things.â
The big cop bulldozed through the weeds around the vehicle to the driverâs side door, pulled it open and tugged out a club at his side. He poked at the hogâs head. One of the eyes fell out and rolled to the floorboards. A fresh wave of nausea pretzeled my gut. He batted the head from the front seat with a dull thump. The cop jumped back and the head rolled onto the ground.
I plugged my nose, and darted inside the bus, grabbing my luggage and Bennyâs playpen. I set it on the ground and started to search for Bennyâs diaper bag when I spotted Momâs purse. My heart punched against my rib cage. Fear catapulted into overdrive. Mom would never go anywhere without her purse. Had she been kidnapped? Is that what that pigâs head was all about? Some kind of a warning?
I shuddered and grabbed Momâs bag. Maybe something in it would give me a clue as to what happened to her. As terrible as it sounds, she could leave me and Benny in a hot second, but there were certain things sheâd never leave behind. An arsenal of seduction: sweet pea perfume, blood-red lipstick in a shade called Vixen, acrylic nail glue and black mascara.
I opened the purse and stared at the contents. Only a few gum wrappers, a leaky ink pen, a blank notepad and some change. I clenched my jaw and snapped it closed, catching a whiff of her perfume. The witch had obviously skipped out on us again. Or had she? Her wallet was also gone, so it could have been a robbery. But, why would they take her makeup and cell phone?
âLet me help you with that stuff,â Officer Cain said, starting to collect the bags from the ground. I smiled gratefully as I made one last dive into the bus to grab the diaper bag Iâd been searching for when I found Momâs purse.
We made our way to the squad car, fighting through thorns, bugs and weeds. Benny's eyes were
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