“Who was buried in the Caine graveyard recently, Mrs. Reddy? We’ve noticed some newly turned earth.”

“I don’t know anything about it. I haven’t been near that yard for a long time. Goodbye, Mrs. Caine. We’ll be in touch with you.”

I went to my rented car while Emil backed out into the road. Then it occurred to me that if Emil was sober enough, I might learn more from him than from anyone else. I backed out quickly and blocked his car before he could turn into the drive. Then I got out and walked over to his car.

He rolled down his window and stared belligerently at me. He wasn’t weeping now but he had evidently had some more to drink. There was a bottle beside him on the seat.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“I’d like to talk to you sometime, Mr. Weber.”

“What about?”

“Oh, about Stephanie and other things.”

“What about Stephanie?”

“Well, I know she was a good girl and I just thought—”

“She was a good girl! You’re damn right she was a good girl!”

“Could we go somewhere and talk now, Mr. Weber? Maybe you could follow me back to the Caine place.”

The porch light came on and Mrs. Reddy opened the front door.

“Get out of here,” Weber hissed. “Get away!”

“Maybe I could help you, Mr. Weber.”

He turned his head to glance at the motionless figure on the porch, then turned back to me. He was thoroughly frightened now. “Get away, get away! And keep your boy away!”

12

Chapter Twelve

I returned to my car and backed off. The station wagon shot into the drive, tires squealing, while Mrs. Reddy remained on the porch, watching me. Bravely I thumbed my nose at her and drove off.

It was after eight o’clock as I started for the farm, although it seemed darker than it ought to be at that time with daylight saving and on an early autumn night. The country along there is heavily wooded, and although there are a few other farmhouses, none of them seemed to be lighted that night.

It was only about a mile and a half to the Caine farm, but that night it seemed much farther than that. I was driving fast but carefully. The road was dry and level most of the way, and without many turns in it. I should’ve reached the farm in under five minutes, but I didn’t, or at least it seemed that I didn’t.

There were no other cars traveling in either direction, an oddity, because the road, although unpaved beyond the Caine farm, is a much used route to Cainesville. I was nervous, and grew more so when I couldn’t find familiar landmarks. Both sides of the road were in complete darkness now. The only thing I could see was the macadam road in front of me.