On Emma's Bluff by Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada (audio ebook reader txt) 📕

as a thump hit the ground behind her. A small grey squirrel had fallen from a limb. It moved cautiously toward the squatted form. The squirrel was being drawn by voices it could not comprehend. It reached the old woman and ventured carefully around to face her.

Only her eyes followed as the squirrel perched itself up on its hind legs in front of her. She reached out a skeletal hand and encircled the squirrel's neck. The squirrel screeched and clawed frantically at it's noose. She brought the terrified creature to her mouth. Heedless of its struggles she stuffed the small head into her mouth and bit down with her back teeth. She brought the cracked skull from her mouth and her fingers plucked out morsels of exposed brain. She savored each tiny piece as she licked them into her mouth.

She knew when she had made that deal all those years ago that this time would come. There was only one way she could stop the killing required.

"Wonder when that sweet child, Emma, is gonna bring herself back home," she thought.

 

 

Chapter 11

Red Humphries was the one man in Sunflower County who fully realized that the security of the whole area was false. Most folks were content to tie all the murders back to Eddy May, who himself had been rightly taken care of as some figured it. But Red was baffled. He had taken the can of gasoline out to the feed shed where Eddy had been chained. Had been delighted to give the boy what Red figured he had coming to him.

But now with Lucille's bizarre death Red was having some doubts. Not enough to keep him awake at night mind, just enough to wonder about the safety of his county. Red had always felt that when the law failed you well then a man had to take matters into his own hands.   He did not let the intentional murder of what was, seeming an innocent man affect his opinion of himself. Now Red was back to reviewing the list he had made of other possible suspects. He went down the list one by one and he kept coming back to one name that seemed to really stand out, Lacey Caine.

Red never had been satisfied with the explanation of what Lacey and Sam had been doing out on that levee that night they found Lucille. He had decided that he should keep a close watch on Lacey, being a little more careful this time before making a move. He took notes of all of Lacey's comings and goings.

He keep close watch on Lacey's drunken evenings. He kept eye on Sam Prather too because of Sam's affiliation with Lacey, but Red found it difficult to imagine the lazy Prather involved in such actual murders.   He knew Sam was dishonest, but he couldn't see Sam going out of his way to do anything that didn't involve making an illegal buck or two. Lacey on the other hand had come from one more mean family. Everyone knew that Lacey had killed his old man in one of those ‘family’ fights. The boy had just gotten off cause it seemed that folks thought well just maybe old man Caine needed killing.

But to Red's frustration, Lacey still hadn't done anything that could be called real evidence. Red decided maybe it was time for a little baiting.

It was the Wednesday night before the Halloween Carnival that Bill Simmons finally got around to calling Emma. She had just dried off from a hot bath when her Aunt Liz called her to the phone.

"It's a boy," Liz had said a little too loudly for Emma's comfort.

"Hello," Emma said evenly into the receiver.

"Why hello. You know those are the first words you have said to me in weeks." Bill's voice sounded very close on the phone.

"Oh?" Emma said aware of her aunt's presence.

"I hope you still aren't ticked off at me?"

"Why no, you aren't really bothering me."   She emphasized the word bothering.

"Glad to hear it, " he said hopefully, "Cause I can be there in less than an hour. Go put on something pretty."

"Please no."   Emma was at a loss with her aunt standing there.

"Oh no trouble at all," he broke in, "I have been dieing to see you again."

"Please, Bill," Emma tried to stop him.

"Is that the Simmons' boy?" Liz said with a wide smile.

"Oh you don't have to beg, I know you are dieing to see me too. I will hurry," he kept on, "and Emma," his tone now lower, "I really have been thinking about you lately." With that said, he hung up.

"So, tell me, was that the Simmons' boy?" her aunt asked again.

"What?" Emma said, "I mean yes ma’am."

"I am so glad he called. So, what did he say?" Liz was clearly excited by this news.

"Uh...uh... he's coming over."

"Wonderful," Liz drew out the word. "Well it is a school night, but I don't see any harm with you two sitting out on the back porch for a spell."

Emma just let her aunt babble on, but to herself she kept thinking, "That was Bill, but he's never sounded quite that way before."

Liz lost no time shuffling the couple on to the back porch. There was a chill in the air. Emma wore a sweater and Bill had on his High School jacket.

"I have always said there is no more romantic place for a young couple than a back porch swing. Parked cars, what are these kids thinking of these days. I see nothing romantic about the inside of some car." Liz was rambling on to Bill, who sat with a frozen smile on his face. "Would you two like something to drink, a coke or some tea?"

"No ma’am, no thank you." Bill spoke politely.

"Bill won't be staying long," Emma said pointedly.

"Oh the evening still early. He can stay for a while yet."   Emma glared at her aunt who was only trying to be helpful. "Well, you two sit and make yourselves at home. I know how young people do love to talk." She practically bounced on her feet back inside.

"Your aunt is quite some character." Bill had slumped down in the swing moving closer to Emma.

"Yes, she is," Emma said still staring at the spot where her aunt had been.

"Look Em, I really did come over here just to talk to you."

"I don't figure we got that much to say to each other." Emma all of a sudden felt very sleepy, not the anger and anxiety she had expected. His voice was very soothing in her ears.

"Yeah, but about Joy, you got a right to know what is going on with us two."

"Please, I don't think I want to know," she started to say but he stopped her with his index finger to her lips.

"I just need to say this.” He almost chuckled, shaking his head at himself. "Joy and I have been going together for a long time," he began, "and things have just been taking on this weird sort of unspoken commitment." His eyes squinted as he looked at her. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well so I just got to taking it for granted that Joy and I would always be together. That's how folks do things around here and all. You know, marry their high school sweet hearts."

"So?" She wanted him to get to the point.

"And I guess I was happy with that and then you showed up at school." Bill looked very uneasy as he said this last part. "I just think about you all the time. Well every since that football game, remember?"

Emma only nodded.

"I can't quit thinking about you," he said not with a lot of optimism in his voice, "And the more I think about you, the less I enjoy being around Joy and her folks." He almost sounded as if he was accusing her, Emma, of making it this way. "But do you know how hard it would be for me to break up with Joy?   It would break everybody's heart, probably including my own momma's."

It seemed to be getting colder on the back porch. Emma wasn't sure how to react to what Bill was saying. Maybe she should be happy, be flattered, but the tone in Bill's voice had an almost strange sadness in it.

"And then I had this dream," he continued, "you were in it and so was Joy." His voice dropped off. There was silence that lingered around them.   Emma took Bill's hand.

When they heard the phone ring inside Emma and Bill jerked apart. "How long have we been out here making out," Emma wondered as alertness returned to her.

"Emma, you got time to talk to Cindy right now, or do you want me to tell her you will call her back after your company leaves."

"No, no, I'll talk to her." Emma said jumping up from the swing.

"Company? What company?" were the first words out of Cindy's mouth.

"Shhhhh," Emma warned as if everyone in the house could hear Cindy. "It's Bill."

"What's that jerk doing there?" Cindy hollered.

" It's kind of a long story. Can we wait and go into this later?"

"What's with you, Emma? You sound kind of funny. Has he got a gun to your head?"

"No," Emma drew the word out. "We will just have to wait and talk about this at school."

Cindy did not like the manner in which Emma was speaking to her. She just hung up the phone. "We sure will, girly." she told the dead receiver.

The phone call had broken the spell of the evening. Bill was speaking to Liz, clearly ready to say his good-byes when Emma returned.

"Yes ma’am, and thank you," Bill was saying.

After escaping Liz, Emma walked Bill out to his car. At his door he turned and circled her small frame in his arms. He leaned down to place his mouth on her neck.

"Thanks," she said laughing. She couldn't help it, it tickled. "I really am glad you came over and I am glad we talked."

"Talked, hmm?" he said moving up to trace his tongue down her jaw line.

"And now you have to go," she said reluctantly pushing him away. He stood looking down at her for a few seconds before reaching for the door handle. "Please, drive safe," she told him. He did not answer. He got in the car and rolled his window reaching for her again. "And, and, sweet dreams, no more of those nightmares," she added. This stopped him just short of kissing her. He laughed.

"I never remember my dreams," he said smiling up at her.

Lacey Caine sat in his living room alone. The light from the T.V. was all that illuminated the room. He had one thin leg thrown over the arm of the couch and the other straight out in front of him. He held a can of beer resting against his thigh. Lacey was not quite drunk yet.

He had not been following the television show that flickered in front of him. He was vaguely aware of the rolls of canned laughter that came intermittently from the set. Only when he closed his eyes could he feel himself spinning. Lacey liked the spinning; it was kind of like a carnival ride to him.

This night he was especially enjoying his brain ride. He