We both heard some shuffling coming through a side door which I assumed was the bathroom. When the door burst open, I saw that it was, in fact, a tiny office. Max popped out, followed closely by Mr. Jennings.
“Kid.” Max threw up his hands. “You’re early.”
“Yes, but I brought a guest.” I motioned to Leigh Kate, and his eyes lit up. My sin of showing up unannounced and early was forgiven.
“I see you have a guest of your own,” I said.
Mr. Jennings snorted. “Mouthy,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Yes, I wonder if I’m just like my grandpa was at my age,” I said, with an emphasis on grandpa.
He got my meaning; his eyes widened, and then he looked away.
“You should come see Gram,” I said.
“I gots to go.” He shook Max’s hand in a hurry and shuffled to the door. Gram said he used to be charming, but now he was just a broken old man. I wondered which of the women in our lives had done that to him: Gram, Mom, or Greenteeth.
He opened the door but stopped and turned around.
“Where’s that boy?” he asked.
“Foster? He’s off doing boy things,” I said. Finding the right gear for the trip to the cave did feel very masculine, at least to me. I knew it was sexist, but I had no desire to help, so I let it be.
He nodded, then left.
“Leigh Kate, I’m so glad you came.” Max shrugged off whatever awkwardness there had been between Mr. Jennings and me.
“Yes.” When she smiled, she managed to look sweet, sad, and cunning all at once. I was impressed. “Sophie mentioned you’re doing an article.”
“Would you be interested?” He almost slobbered on himself in excitement.
“I don’t know. It is such a sad topic for me.”
I thought I heard a sniffle. I swallowed my laughter.
“I was wondering,” she bit her lip before continuing, “do you think Garner Hurst might do it with us?”
“Chase Hurst’s older brother?”
Leigh Kate nodded.
“I think that would be phenomenal.” Max rubbed his hands together like some old cartoon villain.
I sat back and let her work the situation. What a pro.
“I was hoping you’d give us a couple of days to talk to him about it. He’s resistant, but I think it would make the article more complete.” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and batted her eyelashes.
“I think so too. Take all the time you need. Would you be interested in doing a plea?”
“A plea?” I asked.
“You know, ‘If you’ve seen these kids or if you took them, we just want them home safely.’ Like what your mom did,” Max glanced at me.
“Oh,” Leigh Kate and I said at the same time. We hadn’t thought about anything like that. We knew who had taken the children.
“So, the archives.” I stood up, anxious to change the subject and get on with our purpose for being there.
Max jerked his head toward Leigh Kate.
I waved my hand in her direction. “She’s helping me with my project.”
“Okay. I think I’ve got everything you want.” Max crooked his finger at us in the universal come here sign. “Jennings wanted to look through the same articles. Strange, huh?”
I didn’t answer.
The door to the tiny office was still ajar. Max shoved it all the way open. Inside, a folding table filled much of the room. Stacks of paper had been set up on it. Most were yellowed with age and appeared as if a good breeze would disintegrate them.
“I went through the old Inquisitor archives first. Did you know Jennings’s little brother was an abduction victim in the seventies?” Max handed me a clipping with a picture of what must have been a young Bryan Jennings and his family. He was cute. Quite cute in his shorts and T-shirt. I understood what Gram must have seen in him.
“Della Hanes lost a sister but, well, with Chase missing . . . I figured best not to bother her.”
He pulled another paper from the stack showing a picture of a young Della with her arm around Little Sophie. I’d have recognized those braids anywhere, black and white photo or not.
“Oddly enough, a lot of kids have disappeared over the years.” Max took a seat. “I kept going back, looking for this Greenteeth legend you mentioned.” He pulled a stack of papers off a side table previously hidden in the clutter.
“Another instance of kids disappearing happened in the nineteen twenties and then again around the ’40s.” Max held out a yellowed piece of ancient parchment-looking paper dated March 20th, 1904. The headline, more than the condition of the paper, caught my attention:
CARLA JENNINGS – 6 years old, missing
I couldn’t speak but stood there with my mouth open.
Max broke the silence. “Every 18 years, six kids have gone missing, all from the same families. For generations.”
Shaking his head as if not believing his own words, Max reached into his jacket and produced a flask. After a long swig, he offered it to Leigh Kate and me. We both declined. I wasn’t a prude about drinking, but I sure didn’t want to drink from his flask.
“There’s a serial kidnapper in the area. Maybe a whole family of them.” He wiped his mouth after another drink and put the flask back in his pocket. “What I did discover was that one family seemed to be immune. They were town founders too.”
“The Grimms,” I finished for him.
He nodded. “Yep, your boyfriend’s family. Or so I thought.”
He nudged a yellow copy of the Bay Crier on the table over to me. It was dated November 4, 1886. I picked it up and scanned the headlines, something about the harvest and the fall festival. Nothing about missing kids.
Max reached over and flipped to the second-page spread. Articles with a couple of photos on page two and another on page three.
“We thought the kidnappers were your boyfriend’s family, but then . . . maybe it was just him.” Max tapped his finger on the single picture on page three.
Leigh Kate leaned over my shoulder to see. The photo had been taken by a dock, and the article was about some sort of sailing disaster. From the picture, it appeared as if they were hauling in debris. On the right side of the frame sat an overturned fishing boat. A small one. An unmistakable person sat on the dried-out hull. The boy looked exactly like Foster with the same hair and intense eyes. I couldn’t tell the color, of course, but I knew they had to be blue. This boy even sat the same way as Foster with one leg kicked out carelessly. I swallowed hard; Leigh Kate gasped.
Chapter 37
“Yeah, quite the likeness, huh?” Max settled back down in his chair. He shoved another stack of papers at me. A mix of both the Bay Crier and the Ellisburg County Gazette. “The pictures aren’t great. Photography was pretty new in some of these, and the older ones are only drawings.”
Leigh Kate reached over my head and grabbed another paper. It was from 1868, right after the civil war.
“Page four in that one,” said Max. Leigh Kate flipped to it then spread it out in front of us. The Foster look-alike was standing in front of the dry goods store. He wore a hat that hid some of his face, but there was no denying it was the same boy. To say it was eerie to see someone who resembled Foster so much was an understatement. His family must have very distinct DNA.
“It’s a coincidence,” I said, in a shaky voice. “Jennings said Foster looked just like his dad and his granddad.”
“Yeah, he told me that too,” said Max. “Then he also mentioned that every Grimm he’d ever known had only stayed in town for a short time. No one ever saw more than one of them here at a time. Never a young male Grimm and an old male Grimm in Blaylock Bay at once. Isn’t that weird?”
“Maybe. Or maybe not,” I said. “You can’t know that for sure.”
Max snorted. “Jennings also told me there had never been an old male Grimm in town. They’re always away on business.”
“That’s a lot of information from a bitter old man. How l
ong have you been in town?” Leigh Kate put a steady hand on my back.
“And there’s Foster’s aunt, Hannah,” I snapped.
Max thrust another paper at us. This one was from 1959.
“Page two,” he said.
Starting to get perturbed at his insinuations, I snatched the paper and flipped to the page. In this one, the Foster look-alike was standing in a crowd by the docks. A ship was being sent out, for the season, presumably. But there, beside Foster, stood a woman. A tight bun stretched her features, but I immediately recognized Hannah Grimm.
I shot out of my chair, knocking Leigh Kate back.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” I stammered. Leigh Kate wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Foster was not a part of this. No more than the rest of us and our poisoned family lines.
Then, as if on cue, I heard Titan’s voice in my mind, telling me he’d missed the boy. I needed to protect him better.
Max reverted the conversation back to our stated purpose. “I didn’t find anything about anyone named Greenteeth. But there were some handwritten notes from the Crier that spoke of the disappearances in the late 1600s. The town council blamed Jenny Greene when a young man named Foster Grimm went missing.”
I heard Leigh Kate’s breath leave her in a rush. Though I knew from the book, this fit the timeline.
“What happened to Greenetown?” I asked.
“They changed the name to Blaylock Bay back in the 1850s after a former Mayor.” Max shrugged like it was a minor detail.
He produced another small stack of papers that had been wrapped in thick, protective plastic. Someone had taken care to make sure these words would survive.
“I know Jenny Greene’s story,” I snapped. “Grimm was the first to go. Then the others. The parents drowned Jenny in a pond. Now, as Greenteeth, she continues to take children from the same six families. Only the Grimms escape.”
“The original Foster’s body was never recovered.” Max stabbed a grimy, ink-covered finger at me. The skin around his eyes tightened. He was scared. “Maybe the Grimms don’t escape the curse but are part of it.”
I closed my eyes. I had just been thinking that. Titan spoke of Foster like he knew him. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
“I didn’t know reporters dealt in curses and legends,” Leigh Kate added. She kept a firm hand on my shoulder. I was so grateful for her friendship at that moment.
Max threw his hands in the air. “You girls asked me to find evidence of a witch, and now you get mad because I did?”
I broke free of Leigh Kate and pushed my way outside. Fresh air might keep me from passing out. One of the desks caught my leg, but I didn’t stop. Not until I threw the door open and fell on my hands and knees outside. The breeze on my cheek was cool with storm clouds hovering overhead.
Hannah Grimm strolled by with a stack of books in her arms. I didn’t believe I was actually seeing her. I’d blink, and she’d be gone. Like she did in the school. Though she had on the jacket and her hair was frizzed around her face.
I blinked. She was still there. I blinked three, four, five times, and Hannah always remained.
She stopped in front of me. “Mon amie,” she whispered. “I wish you wouldn’t fight so hard. Let the memories fade.”
Mon amie. I’d heard that before, been called that before. I mean other than in French class. It meant “my friend” in French, and I wasn’t sure that Hannah was my friend.
Hannah reached out a hand toward my forehead. I scrambled back onto my butt, not about to let her touch me. At that moment, she frightened me, and I wasn’t sure she was real.
She sighed. “I can take the bad away. Your brother, the other children. I can make your friends forget too. You could have fun with the boy and not worry…”
Hannah never got to finish. Max and Leigh Kate rushed outside. Leigh Kate knelt next to me.
“What do you want?” She demanded of Hannah. Her voice was tight like it could cut glass.
“I saw her fall and wanted to make sure she was okay.” Hannah flat out lied. “I see she’s in good hands now.”
“Hey, lady, I want to talk to you.” Max took another swig of his flask.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Hannah shook her head and smiled sweetly. Her voice was like honey. I felt a zing of electricity crawl up my arms like lightning was about to strike.
Max’s eyes glazed over. He nodded his head.
“Thank you for stopping by,” he said.
I’d seen this before. It had happened to Della Hurst in Garner’s kitchen.
I turned to Leigh Kate. Her eyes had that same glazed look. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
“Don’t you dare forget.” I ground out through clenched teeth.
“Mon amie,” I heard Hannah sigh.
“Please,” I looked around at Hannah. “Please don’t take away our chance to find our brothers and sisters.”
“Sophie,” Hannah lowered her eyes. She looked sad. No, forlorn. And alone.
“The memories.” Somewhere between all the newspapers and pictures, she happened to be here at this exact moment. There was also that name, mon amie. “I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but I think you might be working some kind of memory spell.”
“A spell?” Hannah laughed. “Like magic? Mon amie, dearest, you are too much. That is a highly active imagination you have.”
She gave me a small smile and turned away. She sauntered on down the road like we’d been having the friendliest chat about growing tomatoes or something equally mundane.
“Sophie?” Leigh Kate stared at me with questions burning in her eyes.
“Do you remember what we saw in the newspaper office?”
Her face tightened. “Those crazy pictures of Foster. I’m not likely to forget that.”
She remembered. I threw my arms around her neck and squeezed her tight. Hannah left her memories intact. Maybe I’d gotten through to her with my plea.
“Hey, girls, you okay?” Max asked. “Ready to go look through some old papers?”
Max wasn’t so lucky. He’d lost at least the last hour.
“No,” I stood, pulling Leigh Kate up with me. “I’m not feeling well at the moment.”
Max glared at me. “Remember our bargain, no access till I get to talk to the two of you.”
“But . . .” Leigh Kate started to object. I gave her a quick shake of my head. I’d explain in the car.
“Leigh Kate is gonna take me home.” I pulled her to the curb where her car was parked.
“Text soon.” He growled and stalked back into the Inquisitor office, slamming the door behind him.
“What is going on?” Leigh Kate turned to me. “Why didn’t he remember we’d already gone through those creepy papers?”
“Can we drive out to Foster’s?” I asked Leigh Kate. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
“He’s not there. Remember, he’s down at the dock with Garner,” she said.
“I know. I want to talk with his aunt,” I said. I wasn’t done with Hannah Grimm. She let Leigh Kate keep her memories after I asked her to. Who knows? With the right pleading, she might be willing to tell us more. She knew things. Things that could help, and she had a little bit of witchcraft in her, too.
I pulled my phone out. It wasn’t quite two-thirty yet, but I hadn’t heard anything from Foster or Chi. We were all supposed to meet up at the coffee house at four o’clock. Plenty of time to have another chat with Hannah and get back.
Chapter 38
“You’re telling me that Hannah is a witch too?” Leigh Kate shook her head as she turned on to Grimm Road.
“I think it’s a strong possibility.”
“And we’re going to go confront her about it? What if she’s the one taking our siblings? What if she tries to hurt us?”
“I don’t think that’s our problem. I think she tries to make people forget and lessen their pain. Maybe her power isn’t as strong as Greenteeth’s.” I was pinning a lot
of hope on Hannah’s help. I’d swayed her earlier. If she meant to harm us, she wouldn’t have cared. And we needed answers about those pictures. I wouldn’t be able to rest until I figured out if Hannah and Foster were tied to Greenteeth or if everyone in their family looked identical.
A fierce storm was surely swirling overhead. Not a drop of rain yet, only angry clouds that had gotten darker the closer we got to Foster’s. Though the area around the pond was hazy with light fog. Nothing like the thick rolls of white Greenteeth brought with her.
“Is that her pond?” asked Leigh Kate. She had stopped the car and was staring at the hazy area.
“Yeah, it is.” I nodded.
Leigh Kate put the car in park. “Do you think they’re nearby?”
I knew she meant Sam, Chase, and Cassie. I didn’t think they were under the pond, but I could be wrong. I could be wrong about everything. What I thought I knew was spinning out of control in other directions.
But I thought the children were all close.
“We should go on up to the house,” I said. I didn’t want to have another encounter with Greenteeth today, and I didn’t want Leigh Kate to have one at all, if possible.
She didn’t listen. Instead, she swung the car door open and walked out into the darkening afternoon.
“Leigh Kate.” I got out too but left my door open in case we’d need a hasty escape.
Silent, she focused on trudging through the weeds to the water’s edge. I recognized the determined look on her face.
I sent Foster a text.
We might be a little late for coffee. We stopped at the pond.
I tossed my phone on the car seat and took off after her. Leigh Kate bent down and scooped up a couple of rocks. By the time I caught up with her, she was hurling them toward the pond.
“Whoa,” I said and grabbed her arm before she could throw another. “Let’s not make her mad.”
“I don’t care. I want to make her mad.” Leigh Kate jerked free and flung a larger stone. “Give her back!”
She screamed and threw a third rock. Tears streamed down her cheeks. When I realized I was crying too, I sat down on the same boulder I’d sat on last time.
The Curse of Jenny Greene Page 17
