Garden of Darkness Read Free Page A

The part that mesmerized you and tricked you and lulled you into thinking it was normal and okay.
    She passed an invisible line that marked the edge of town.
    She adjusted herself, settling in for the long drive. She let out a deep breath. She reached for the radio.
    And heard a siren.
    She checked the side mirror.
    A patrol car was coming up fast behind her, lights flashing. She glanced down at the speedometer. Fifty. The road was a two-lane with no shoulder. She slowed her pace, expecting the officer to drive around. He didn’t. She slowed even more, finally reaching an intersection with room to pull aside. The car screeched to a halt behind her. Someone got out and approached her truck.
    Alastair Stroud. He’d recently returned from early retirement in Florida to take the job of interim chief of police.
    Rachel rolled down her window. “Come to see me off?” Her heart slammed in her chest again.
    He had that look on his face. A look she’d seen on her father’s face too many times. A look that said bad shit was afoot.
    “I was hoping to catch you before you left Tuonela.”
    I was hoping to get out of here before you caught me. I should have left last night.
    “There’s been a murder,” Alastair said. “I need your help.”
    “Get somebody else.”
    “There isn’t anybody else.”
    Not true. The medical examiner from the adjoining county was filling in until they found a new ME and coroner. Everything was temporary. People filling in until the real person came along. That wasn’t going to happen. There were no real people here.
    “Becker Thomas.”
    Alastair shook his head. “Becker’s busy. A nasty accident on Highway Ten. Besides, I’m afraid Becker might not be able to handle this. I’m afraid it might be too much for him. He’s used to more normal deaths.”
    Normal deaths.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you want to get out of here. I understand that. Especially after your father’s murder and everything that happened in Old Tuonela, but—”
    The word but hung in the air between them.
    But we could really use your help. One more time. One more for the road.
    All roads led back to Tuonela. That’s what Rachel was discovering. Like a board game with paths that kept returning you to Start.
    Alligator swamp, go back ten squares. Quicksand, go back to Start. Sucking chest wound, go back to Start. Nutcases who think they’re vampires, go back to Start.
    It was crazy to think a place could control you. That the ground was somehow more than just soil and plants. More than just a place for vegetation and burying the dead.
    She could see that Alastair could see the resignation in her eyes. He took advantage of it. “There’s an abandoned farmhouse up the road about a half mile. Pull in there and I’ll pick you up. I’ll take you to the crime scene.”
    Rachel put the truck in gear and moved forward.
    She should just keep driving, but that wasn’t who she was. Instead, she spotted the narrow gravel drive, overgrown with weeds, and pulled in. She locked the truck, hoping her plants wouldn’t get too hot, then walked to where Alastair was waiting.
    Aspen Grove.
    Rachel recognized the place. Part of the state forest bordered by the highway and Evan Stroud’s land, which included Old Tuonela. Several acres of aspen trees planted in carefully checked rows. It was relatively easy to plant straight rows of anything, but checking them meant they lined up perfectly no matter where you stood. It was an old technique, done with string. One that had been abandoned once people started planting by machine.
    Unlike the heart of Tuonela, the ground here had been worn flat. The soil was black and as fine as sand, and if you looked down the rows of trees from any angle you would swear they went into infinity.
    “Are those quaking aspens?” Rachel asked.
    The sun had risen completely, and the leaves against the white trunks were almost blinding in their brilliance and contrast to the gray sky.
    “Big