“Don’t reckon so,” Nell said. “But there were other times Earl was sighted over the years. One time Norma Jean thought she saw him prowling in her backyard but by the time the sherif got to her house, he’d hightailed it out of there. We were all terrified he’d come back and start trouble again.”
“And it looks like he did,” a bony woman gasped.
Ellie showed them Bonnie’s picture. “Take a good look, ladies. Have you seen her?”
A chorus of no’s and head shaking followed.
If Bonnie had come to Brambletown on her own, she’d stayed under the radar. Either that, or the killer had murdered her in another location and transported her body to dump at the graveyard.
Maybe someone in Cleveland where Bonnie had lived with her foster family would have some answers.
TWENTY-SIX
Cleveland, Georgia
Ellie phoned Cord and asked him to meet her in Cleveland at the foster family’s house. But as she entered town, she and Shondra drove to the police station first.
Unlike Brambletown, Cleveland was a quaint little mountain town and a hot tourist spot. Home to Babyland General Hospital where the Cabbage Patch Kids were born, families flocked there to witness the “births” and take home their favorite dolls, complete with printed birth certificates.
While Shondra went to canvass the local businesses, Ellie tugged her jacket around her and climbed the steps to the police department. A fifty-something receptionist with a nametag that read Mildred greeted her. Ellie identified herself and explained the reason for her visit.
“Oh, my, I’m so sorry to hear about that poor girl,” Mildred said. “She had a rough life.”
“Did you know her foster family?” Ellie asked.
“Just that the foster father was a jerk. And the wife, well, the few times she came into town, seemed like a mousy little thing that had nothing to say.”
“Did you sense they were abusive to the foster children?” Ellie asked.
Mildred twisted her mouth to the side. “It’s possible. Although I don’t think the investigating officer found proof of it.”
“I’d like to talk to that officer,” Ellie said.
Mildred nodded, lifted the phone from its cradle and punched in a number. “Officer Novak, a detective is here to talk to you about Bonnie Sylvester.”
A minute later, a tall brown-haired man she guessed to be early thirties appeared, his uniform fitting snugly over his taut stomach. “Officer Novak,” he said then offered his hand.
Ellie shook it and identified herself.
“I saw the news report about the Sylvester girl,” he said as he escorted her through a set of double doors to an office that was as neatly kept as his military haircut. “I was sorry to hear she was found dead.”
“Murdered,” Ellie said. “The ME said she was strangled.”
Novak winced and arched a brow. “Sexual assault?”
“Thankfully no indication of that.”
The officer’s desk chair squeaked as he leaned back in it and studied her. “How can I help you?”
“I’d like to see your report on the investigation. But first please give me a quick summary. Who did you question, and did you have a working theory or a specific person of interest?”
“I’ll have Mildred print you a copy of the report,” he said. “Of course, we issued an Amber Alert and searched the town. We questioned the foster parents first. They insisted that Bonnie was difficult, that she didn’t get along with the other foster kids, that she’d run off a couple of times before but usually came back. Mr. Wiley insisted that was the reason they waited three days before reporting her missing. But we believe he only filed the report because of the caseworker. She paid them a surprise visitand the girl wasn’t there, then she insisted they file the report. Another boy in the house told her Bonnie had been gone three days.”
“Did you think Bonnie was abused?”
He picked up a pen and rolled it between his fingers. “I suspected the man abused the kids and his wife, and so did the social worker but we never found proof. That said, she had the other kids removed from the house and struck the Wileys from the foster family list.”
“How did they take that?”
