Mary's Bones

THIRTY-TWO

I couldn't remember the last time John and I were this busy on Thanksgiving Day. Not even last year was this active. I guess I was partially to blame for that. We were so used to attending my parents' house for Thanksgiving. It was easier for our families to gather as one.

However, I may have agreed to a slight change in our schedule on a whim.

This year, Evelyn had taken the initiative to invite John and I to her grandparents' house. She claimed there'd be very few people there. From what I understood, just her grandparents, herself, and a few of her grandparent's friends. I said yes before I could stop myself.

"How's the cheesecake doing, babe!?" John yelled from the room.

"It's almost done!" I yelled back, tossing the mittens on the counter.

"And the mac n' cheese!?"

"Checking on it now!" I responded. My legs moved as fast as they could. We'd been running around all morning, to mid-afternoon, like chickens with their heads chopped off. It was already twelve noon and neither of us had the chance to shower. We were too distracted by the last few dishes that needed to be made.

"The mac n' cheese is finished!" I huffed and wiped my forehead with my hand. The heat was starting to block my pores. I felt like I was suffocating.

I couldn't believe November had gone by this fast. It felt like yesterday I'd just found Mary's bones. Within the last stretch of November, three more girls were found. Mary had done everything she could to point them out.

I hadn't known them well except for what Cory had jotted down in his notes. According to the latest news reports, eleven-year-old Priyanka Laghari, ten-year-old Winnie Davis, and twelve-year-old Francesca aka "Frankie" Hawkins, were all listed under the headlines.

It'd probably have helped if I knew exactly what the choice of weapon for each of them was. All that the news and media outlets revealed was that most of the girls had experienced some sort of blunt force trauma to the face or head.

When I marked the places the recent girls were found on Cory's map, I couldn't help but notice an odd pattern. They almost shaped a circle. I wasn't sure if that was a coincidence. The girl's disappearances were random, but this felt planned.

It was as if someone was keeping track. Every single location seemed to be thought out, taking into consideration where the girl before had been buried. Perhaps, burying them in their favorite's places or the first places they could think of.

There were only a few suspects I could think of who'd have been able to execute something as careful as that. Jeremiah Adams had experience in the architecture field. Then, there was also Harrold Williams, who worked closely in the architecture field.

Being a real estate agent had its benefits, especially when it'd allow someone to know their town's layout like the back of your hand. That was West Greenbush in this case. Almost every piece of property that had a price on it, must have been clear in his knowledge.

But that was only speculation. There could have been other explanations for this.

Then, there was Veronica—who, with a little bit more convincing—agreed to share what she remembered with the police. We had left the bathroom together. And as I sat back in John's office, she slowly approached an officer.

She was soon let go and they officially had another possible lead to work with. All that was left was to track down that license plate. I was able to get a personal copy of the picture from Toya's Facebook. I hadn't asked for it. Veronica sent it to me to show me before she showed the police. I had it saved to my phone.