Page 91 of The Witch

Strickland is dead. Jonas killed him.

Nay, we killed him.

Before today, I was not guilty of any crimes. But today, I am an accessory to taking a man’s life. Strickland may burn to death in the jailhouse, but Jonas and I will burn in hell.

Jonas does not seem concerned with his eternal soul in the slightest. “We must go,” he says again, with more urgency.

I take a shaky breath, thinking of the scorched body downstairs. “If we run, they will see us. We are so close to Town Hall.”

He shakes his head. “There is nobody about at this hour. We will leave the torch behind and follow the moonlight. We have been graced with a full moon.”

I stare out the window of the first floor of the jailhouse, where the moon gives the night sky an ominous glow. He is correct—there are no townspeople about. It will be easy enough to slip into the darkness.

“Caroline.” He has taken my arm and is tugging me toward the exit. “We must go. Now.”

God help me, I do the only thing I can do: I follow this man out of the jailhouse and into the night. He leaves the torch behind, but I do notice that before he goes, he takes the musket leaning against the desk.

66

PRESENT DAY

JULIA

A man?

I’m not sure what to make of that revelation. I was willing to accept that Caroline was buried in our backyard. Nobody ever said anything about a strange man being buried there too. “Are you sure about this?”

“Not at all,” Henry says. “But I’m just telling you what it looks like to me. And not only that, but the records state that Caroline Eldridge was burned at the stake, so her remains should have been mostly ashes. A perfectly intact pelvic bone wouldn’t have been found centuries later.”

I suck in a breath. “Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe they just hanged her like the others.”

“Could be.”

But I can tell from the way he is looking at the specimen bag that he thinks something isn’t quite right. I feel the same way.

“Anyway,” he says, “I’m going to give this back to you. If you do believe in spirits or whatever, I suggest you put this back with the rest of the remains. If we buy the property, we’ll figure it out when we get there, but we’re not in the habit of exhuming three-hundred-year-old corpses.”

He’s right. Even though the idea of going out to the backyard with a shovel and burying this thing is not particularly appealing to me, I have a deep sense that this belongs back where I found it.

Except I still don’t know who the bone belonged to. Was it Caroline Eldridge? Or did something else happen at Pemberton all those years ago that didn’t make it to the history books?

“Hey,” I say, “did you get a chance to look up that Celia woman?”

He grins at me. “Actually, I called Town Hall on my drive back home. There was a woman who was employed at Pemberton named Celia Caine. I’d imagine that’s who you’re looking for.”

“Yes!” I wrap my arms around Henry in a spontaneous hug. He laughs and hugs me back. “I can’t believe you figured it out.”

“Don’t get too excited,” he warns me. “After she left their employment, there are no other records of Celia Caine in Woodhaven. I did a quick Google search, and it didn’t turn up much either. Then again, the woman is probably in her eighties by now, and she might not have much of an online presence. Or she might have died years ago.”

Damn. I knew it couldn’t be that easy. “Well, thanks anyway.”

He holds up a finger. “There’s one other interesting factoid though.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods. “Celia Caine had a criminal record prior to working at Pemberton.”

Okay, that is interesting. “Really?”