5
After her fiery dream, Julia had no trouble staying awake until she reached the single-lane road to Kay’s farm.
It was pitch black, but lights from the farmhouse shone through tall trees ahead.
There were no other houses in sight, and it looked as if an expanse of pasture surrounded the house, but it was too dark to see anything.
She kept going past an old mailbox with reflective letters that read THE PATTERSONS, then Julia pulled up in front of the white Victorian farmhouse, two narrow stories of clapboard with green trim and matching filigree, with a sharply peaked roof.
A ceiling fixture on the porch illuminated two uniformed cops taking yellow crime-scene tape from the railing and Courtney sitting in a wide cedar rocker on the front porch.
Julia’s heart leapt at the sight of her best friend, looking so forlorn in a black parka over her sweater and jeans.
The last time they’d seen each other was five years ago, and Julia felt so glad that she’d come.
She parked behind Kay’s white Honda Accord with its Notre Dame bumper sticker, an interlocking ND that had to be for Courtney.
Next to it sat a brown-and-yellow Buckley Police Department cruiser, a jarring note in a bucolic setting.
“Jules!” Courtney rose and hurried down the steps as Julia cut the ignition, got out of the car, and threw open her arms.
“Courtney, I’m so sorry, honey.”
“Thank you… for coming.” Courtney clung to her, shuddering with a new sob. “This is so… hard. I can’t believe… this happened.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t deserve this… she was so great.”
“I know, I know. I know how much you loved her.”
“She was such… a great person, she loved everybody… and they loved her.”
“I’m so sorry about this, Court.”
“Who would… kill her? Who? Why?”
“God knows, honey.”
“Thanks.” Courtney released Julia and wiped her eyes. Sorrow strained her expression, and she pushed a strand of hair into her ponytail, trying to recover. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch him. I was right there.”
“Honey, you tried.”
“Not hard enough.” Courtney sniffled.
“Don’t say that. You had just found her. It was so awful.”
“Still, I’m so mad at myself.” Courtney looked over as the cops approached, then cleared her throat, gesturing to them.
“Julia, meet Officers Harbor and Quinton. Gentlemen, this is Julia Pritzker, the friend I told you about.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Julia shook their hands.
Officer Harbor had a mustache and Officer Quinton a cleft chin, but she couldn’t make out their other features under the black patent bills of their caps.
They wore black insulated jackets with nameplates, badges, and a heavy utility belt holding holstered Glocks, collapsible batons, and tall radios with stiff rubber antennae.
Officer Harbor turned to Courtney. “Ms. Horan, I know a guy who can remove the carpet in the living room. I left his card on the kitchen table. If I were you, I’d call him tonight. You don’t want to see it the way it is.”
Courtney nodded, sniffling. “Thanks, but I saw it when I found her.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want to sit with it. We should be going now. We’re releasing the house. Again, sorry about your grandmother.”
“Thank you, for everything.”
Officer Harbor took a step back, starting to leave. “Good night now.”
“Good night.” Officer Quinton followed him, and Julia and Courtney bade them goodbye and watched as the cops piled into the cruiser and drove off, their red taillights burning through the night.
“Oh, man.” Courtney sighed, rubbing her face, then lowered herself to the porch step. “Can we sit down a minute?”
“Sure.” Julia sat next to her, putting an arm around her.
“I’m still mad at myself. If I hadn’t tripped, I would have had him.” Courtney shook her head. “I could’ve caught him.”
“Let’s hope the cops do.” Julia gave her a sideways squeeze. “Do they have any idea who the guy is?”
“No, I met with a Detective Kowalski and looked through mugshots, but I couldn’t identify him.
I never saw his face, and I only have the basic description that I told you.
” Courtney kept shaking her head. “I didn’t get the license plate on the pickup because of the brushwood.
She used to have the back pasture hayed by a local farmer, but he moved away years ago and it’s scrub now.
I told Kowalski to check the tire tracks because it’s not easy to drive through, and he said he’d follow up. ”
“Do the cops have any motive?”
“They think it was a robbery. She used to keep cash in her jewelry box upstairs, and it’s gone.” Courtney looked over, her eyes glistening and her features contorted with grief. “That man, he killed her for, like, a hundred bucks.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t believe this is how her life ends. She was so vital and strong. She still had her health. She loved her life. She didn’t deserve this, not at all.”
“I know, honey.” Julia rubbed her back. “It’s shocking and awful and horrible.”
“You know how it is from Mike, right?”
“Yes, it’s awful.”
“Awful.” Courtney exhaled heavily, trying to rally. “The worst part is, Detective Kowalski has never even handled a murder case. He’s new on the job. They’ve only had two murders here in the past thirty years.”
“Wow. I guess there’s not much crime out here.” Julia’s late husband, Mike, had been one of 250 homicides in Philly that year, a heartbreaking statistic.
“Kowalski told me there’s mostly drug offenses and domestic disputes.
He works out of Weaverton and covers three counties.
This county doesn’t have the budget to justify a detective anymore.
I never really realized this before, but police services aren’t automatic.
There has to be a budget to pay for it, and when the density goes down, especially in rural areas, there isn’t the need or the infrastructure.
” Courtney straightened. “But, hey, do you remember that story I told you, that there was a murder at the neighboring farm? The neighbor’s name was Bill McKenna, and the cops found a man’s body in his well. It happened about thirty years ago.”
Julia shuddered. “I remember the story, but I thought the murder was more recent.”
“No, Grandma Kay only told me recently, but it happened a while ago. I remember her telling me the man was a drifter. Then McKenna disappeared. They never found him to charge him. I thought there was a new owner but the place burned down.”
“That’s suspicious.”
“Right?”
“So your grandmother’s neighbor could’ve been a murderer.”
“Yes, and the victim’s name was James Shoemaker. I looked it up on my phone.”
“Did you know McKenna? You must’ve been around ten at the time.”
“I was, and I never met him. He hadn’t been there long, and the farms here are large, so it’s not like a neighborhood.”
Julia mulled it over. “Are you thinking the murders could be related?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not ruling it out. It’s unlikely, given they’re so far apart in time, but it’s weird that there’s so few murders here and two of them were next door to each other.” Courtney shook her head, mystified. “I raised it with Kowalski anyway, and he said he’d investigate.”
Julia looked around. “Where’s McKenna’s house? There’s nothing here but trees and pasture.”
“That way, pretty far.” Courtney waved to her right. “You can’t see anything anymore. It’s all overgrown since the fire.”
Julia startled, flashing on her fiery dream, or vision. “You know, on the way here, I think I dozed a little and had a dream about a fire—”
“Wait, you fell asleep at the wheel?” Courtney’s eyes flew open. “Shit, Jules! That’s dangerous.”
“I know, I’m jet-lagged.”
“Still.” Courtney straightened. “You have to pull over when that happens.”
“I know, I will, but it was just weird.” Julia felt fatigue wash over her again. “I was having all these strange thoughts, even remembering a time my father gaslit me that I hadn’t thought about in, like, ever.”
“But still, pull over.”
“Let me tell you about the fire though, in the dream.” Julia described the fire, the deafening explosion, the burning car and trees. When she was finished, her mouth had gone dry.
“Jesus.” Courtney grimaced, then cocked her head. “Wait. Where did this happen?”
“About half an hour away, on Route 61.”
Courtney blinked. “That’s around where Centralia used to be, before the mine fire.”
“What mine fire?”
“Back in the sixties, Centralia was a mining town, and the town started a fire in a landfill to get rid of the trash before some holiday, but the fire fell through the ground to an abandoned mine. The town council covered it up, and by the time it came to light, the fire was out of control, underground.”
“Like it was burning?”
“Yes, and it kept burning, fed by the coal. It’s anthracite coal, so it burns for a long time, that’s why it’s so valuable.
The state EPA got involved, and the feds.
They tried to stop it, but nothing worked.
” Courtney frowned. “The fire sent toxic gas up through the ground. People got sick. They gave everybody monitors, alarms for carbon monoxide. There was a sinkhole that almost killed a little boy. Bottom line, it was an environmental disaster.”
“Oh my God.”
“The government moved everybody out of their homes and paid them almost nothing. It divided the whole town. A lot of people thought it was a government conspiracy to seize the land by eminent domain, for the coal.” Courtney sighed.
“In the end, Centralia became a ghost town. They paved a highway bypass around the town. Byrnesville was the next town over, and it became a ghost town, too. I know it sounds like I’m making it up, especially given the town’s name, but the fire’s still burning. ”
“From the sixties?” Julia asked in disbelief.
“Yes, and it’s coming to Buckley. The town is directly in its path. Everybody’s moving away, given what’s coming. There’s no reason to stay and watch your house value go to zero. Businesses left, too. Good luck trying to sell any property in town, even now.”
“That’s terrible. Is the fire coming here, to your grandmother’s?”
“No, this farm is outside town, so it’s out of harm’s way.
Still, she didn’t want to leave. She loved this place, it’s thirty acres.
She and my grandfather grew soybeans out back.
His great-great-grandfather was one of the first Black farmers in Pennsylvania.
Grandma Kay always said you can’t separate a Black farmer from the land, the ancestors would never allow it.
She loved this place, that’s why she volunteered at the clean-ups. ”
“What’s that?”
“A local group holds clean-ups because people dump tires and trash in Centralia and Byrnesville. She just went to one.” Courtney’s eyes narrowed.
“Jules, you say you dreamed about a fire? Do you think it was the mine fire, or even the fire at McKenna’s?
Was it a vision, like what happened last time? ”
Julia swallowed hard. “I don’t know, I hope not. It could have been anything.”
“But you tried to warn me before I went inside the house. You told me not to go in. You knew something was wrong. How?”
“I don’t know.” Julia had expected the question, but resisted the answer. “I just sensed you shouldn’t go in.”
“Do you think this is, like, your psychic powers, coming back?”
Julia’s gut twisted. “Hold on, I’m not totally sure I have psychic powers.”
“But last time you thought you might have.”
“Yes, but this is so different. Last time, I was seeing a weird blue light, too, and I thought it was related to Caterina Sforza. Now I’m not seeing anything like that. Plus I’m not in Tuscany anymore, I’m in Pennsylvania.”
“Does that matter?”
“I don’t know, but I haven’t had anything weird happen in years and I don’t want to jump to any conclusions.” Julia felt like she was talking to Gianluca, all over again. “I just need to keep myself grounded. Normal, okay?”
“Of course.” Courtney nodded. “And just so you know, I asked you to come as a friend. I didn’t ask you to help me catch the guy who killed her, or because you might be psychic.”
“I know that, and I’m glad I’m here. I’ll help you any way I can.
Whatever you need, I’m here for.” It felt right to be here, but she’d keep her promise to Gianluca.
She didn’t know enough yet to be sure the fire was a vision and she had no idea what would happen next.
If things got dicey, she’d call the police.
Courtney’s eyes glistened in the darkness. “Let’s go inside, huh?”