Free The Grove by John Rector

far off.
    “Are you OK?”
    I didn’t answer her.
    The idea of telling Megan I’d seen her with Jessica’s boyfriend was gone. My chest burned, and all I wanted right then was to get back home and talk to Jessica, make her tell me all of this wasn’t true.
    “You want something to drink? Some water or something?”
    I got up and headed for the door.
    When I got outside, I passed a couple kids on bikes spinning doughnuts in the empty gravel parking lot. They watched me as I went by.
    As I passed them I realized I was talking to myself and drawing attention, but it didn’t matter.
    Let them all stare.
    I didn’t care anymore.

CHAPTER 18
     
    By the time I got home, the burning in my chest had dropped to a low ache. I’d convinced myself there was an explanation. The idea of Jessica and Paul Colton was too ridiculous to be true, and I was an idiot for listening to the rumors.
    I parked my truck next to the house and went in through the back door. I took a bottle of Johnny Walker from the cabinet above the refrigerator. I needed to clear my head, or to at least give myself a little more time to calm down before I talked to Jessica.
    I stood in front of the kitchen window, drinking, and looking out at the cottonwoods rising out of the grove, their leaves rustling nervously in the breeze.
    Eventually, I felt myself relax.
    I took another drink then capped the bottle and carried it with me, out the door and across the field to the break in the rows.
    As I walked, I went over what I wanted to say in my mind. It needed to sound casual. I didn’t want to accuse her or attack her, just get to the truth.
    I came around the corner and saw my tractor still in the ravine. Again, the knowledge that I was asking for trouble by leaving it out bit at me, but I pushed it away.
    I’d take care of it tomorrow.
    Today I was going to talk to Jessica. Everything else could wait—
    Something in the grove flashed in the sunlight, and I stopped. From where I stood, I couldn’t see anything but shadows through the cottonwoods. I stepped closer, squinting against the sun.
    It flashed again, and this time I saw what it was.
    A man was standing in the grove.
    He was carrying what looked like a long knife in one hand, the blade flashing a dull gold in the sun. With the other hand, he was holding the bottom of his T-shirt folded against his chest.
    He didn’t see me, and for a moment I couldn’t move at all.
    I watched him walk in a slow circle, first one way, then stopping and coming back, his head down. I tried to see his face, but I was still too far away.
    I crouched low and started toward the ravine. The downed stalks were loud and they cracked under my feet.
    I cringed with each step.
    When I got closer, the man stopped circling and squatted next to Jessica’s body. He was facing away from me, but I could see his army khaki pants, cut off at the knees, and a blue number eight on the back of his T-shirt.
    I figured that once I got around the trees I’d be able to get a better look at him. I’d see his face, and if he tried to run I’d be able to follow.
    I’d heard about killers returning to the scene of their crimes to relive the rush. Was that what was happening here? If so, then why the knife?
    Jessica hadn’t been stabbed. She hadn’t been hurt at all as far as I could tell. There were no marks on her body. She was perfect.
    And what about Megan? Where did she fit?
    It didn’t make sense.
    I’d made it halfway around the ravine when the man leaned forward, slid the knife under the front of Jessica’s skirt, and lifted.
    He ducked lower and looked in.
    I stood up and shouted, “What the hell are you doing?”
    The man turned toward me. His eyes were wide, and I saw it wasn’t a man at all. It was a kid, twelve, maybe thirteen years old, and I recognized him immediately.
    Jacob Tolliver.
    “What the hell are you doing?”
    Jacob let go of his shirt, and several ears of corn fell at his feet. He started to bend to pick them