“And did you taint the other investigations?”
“What are you accusing me of, Hadley?”
She’d gotten ahead of herself, and she had no choice but to dial back her accusations. Elijah was a proud man, and he would escort her off his property, regardless of their past.
“Chief, I think a lot of these missing persons cases are connected,” Hadley revealed, intentionally pushing her boot against the porch's wooden planks. By initiating movement, she hoped to give the impression of appeasement. “Pearl Shepley, Emily Esten, Missy Claymont—along with five other youngwomen who disappeared from this area during harvest season over the past forty-five years. All creative, ambitious girls who had a desire to leave Whistlerun. And as you just said, all vanishing without a trace.”
“That's quite a theory,” Elijah said after a brief pause.
“Is it?” Hadley inquired thoughtfully. “Because you don't seem surprised.”
Elijah's gaze finally shifted away from her, moving across the property to the treeline in the distance. He remained in thought for quite some time. So long, in fact, that she was afraid he’d cut this discussion off. When he finally returned his attention to her, there was a weariness that hadn't been there moments before.
“You always went against the grain,” Elijah murmured, his voice so quiet it nearly disappeared beneath the sound of the wind moving through a patch of nearby pines. “Just like your brother.”
The mention of Mason had her resting a hand against her chest. Elijah had effectively landed a blow, but this wasn’t about who could outsmart the other. And he certainly didn’t get to diminish the impact of his past decisions.
“This isn't about Mason,” Hadley said in defense of her visit, even though she was aware that wasn't entirely true. “This is about eight young women who deserved better than becoming campfire stories about theThreshing Man. Do you think I didn’t notice the talisman hanging in Amelia’s window? Or the fact that those two women are convinced you’re covering up some supernatural occurrence that takes place every so many years? Damn it, Elijah. I respected you. Worse, I trusted you.”
Elijah's silence was appalling, and his past actions had tainted his legacy. His weathered face hardened. He was going to go on the offensive, and she braced herself for the impact.
“Connecting cases from 1978 to 2025 seems to be quite a stretch, even for someone with your credentials. The mathdoesn’t add up.” Elijah seemed to believe his own words, causing Hadley to study his somewhat indifferent expression. “You'd best think about that before you start getting the townsfolk all riled up.”
“You didn’t ask me which eight women,” Hadley countered warily, noticing how the muscle tightened alongside his jaw. “Chief, talk to me. Please.”
“What is it you think we’ve been doing, Hadley?” Elijah shifted to remove the handkerchief from his back pocket. He then wiped his hands, as if to get rid of some imaginary dirt. The weight of her disappointment in the face of his intentional ignorance was heavy. “I served this community my entire adult life. These people are my family. Your family, and you’re acting like you’ve forgotten what that means.”
“My family disintegrated into ash the day I saw my brother exit those woods,” Hadley replied sharply, immediately wishing she hadn’t brought up the worst night of her life. Only she had, and she might as well take it all the way to the finish line. “Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep back then? How many times that I picked up random pennies off the street or blown on dandelions in hopes that some proof would materialize to prove theThreshing Manwas real?”
A bird called from somewhere in the nearby pines, the sound sharp against the growing tension. The piercing call reminded her to breathe. She slowly wrapped her fingers around the arms of the rocking chair in hopes it would ground her.
“He’s still your brother,” Elijah reminded her before she could try to reclaim control of their discussion. “Mason was a good boy, and to this day, I don’t believe he set out to hurt that girl. The best scenario that I could come up with was that he probably had too much to drink that night. He blacked out, something unthinkable happened, and he came stumbling out of the woods to get help.”
“It doesn’t much matter now, does it?” Hadley was able to restrain her response despite her rising anger. “Unless you handled the investigation into Mason’s guilt the same way you conducted yourself during the Pearl Shepley case.”
Hadley forced herself to stay focused on the present, on the inconsistencies that had brought her to Elijah's porch. She hadn’t expected him to answer, but that didn’t stop her from posing another theory.
“Did you create other convenient narratives to let the town sleep at night?”
“Girls get restless in small towns, Hadley. You know that better than most. They dream bigger than what Whistlerun can offer. Sometimes they leave. Sometimes they meet men who promise them more exciting lives. And sometimes...” Elijah hesitated, his expression darkening. “Sometimes they’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Hadley stood up, unable to remain seated while Elijah constructed his wall of denial brick by careful brick. She recognized the futility of continuing this conversation. Elijah Garber would never publicly admit to any wrongdoing. His loyalty to the town outweighed any obligation to the truth—it always had.
“Thank you for the cider, Chief,” Hadley said as she made her way to the top of the porch steps. As he had already pointed out, this town had a way of handling certain situations. She’d adhere to them for now. “And for your time.”
“There’s no use in stirring up ghosts that won't bring you any peace, Hadley,” Elijah said in his attempt at parting a piece of unsolicited wisdom.
She descended the porch steps, each footfall deliberate as she fought to maintain her composure. The familiar acid in her chest had intensified to a steady flame, fueled by the former sheriff's evasions and half-truths.
Once her boots landed on the dirt path, she turned back to face him.
The afternoon light caught the silver in his hair, momentarily restoring the commanding presence he held during her childhood. Only it was merely an illusion, and she would never view him in the same light again. The loss of another relationship, no matter how tenuous, unleashed a surge of rage inside of her. She managed to contain it while she gave her own bit of advice.
“I'll be at the station should you…remember anything,” Hadley said as she pulled her keys out from the pocket of her blazer. “Some secrets shouldn't be taken to the grave, Chief. And whatever or whoever it is you think you're protecting by staying silent—it isn't worth the cost.”
15
Reed Langley
