Sarah Benadine is Dead

Chapter XVI, Part II

A few days past eight months after Sarah Benadine's death, ground was finally broken for the building of a new public library. The earth had thawed, and it had taken all that time, as is often the case with these types of things, to allocate the proper funds and to navigate the in-fighting between everyone who had a say—and plenty who didn't—about the construction of the building. The groundbreaking was viewed as quite a big deal in the small town, and large swarms of people turned out for a long list of speeches given by town council members and the two librarians, Mrs. Daugherty and Miss Garrison. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon in April, and many of the people there regarded this as a turning point somehow. Among the attendees were Shannon Malone's parents, Clifford and Blanche Dent, Horace and Katya Strickland, David Sheffield, Lance Benadine, Briargate professors Lavanya Nadig, Bertram Deifenbaker, and Michael Stone, the unfortunate Kitty Sinclair's father Hal, and Jackie and Rita Gordon. No one realized that the person responsible for Sarah Benadine's death walked amongst them.

Jackie Gordon did not hear much of what the speakers had to say. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts. His time was growing short now, he supposed. He'd been lucky this far, but he didn't think it was going to last much longer.

Disappear.

Oh yeah. Disappear.

It was breezy, but the sun was warm. Most of the crowd was dressed up nicely even though this wasn't too grand an affair. Even Jackie's mother was wearing her best Sunday hat. If it had not been such a lovely day, she probably would not have come; she'd had bad knees for most of her life and they always spoke to her on wet or cold days. Still, she'd brought her cane along, and she grasped Jackie's arm whenever she felt unsteady.

If not for her, Jackie would have left by now. Forget the money and the school. He'd have found a way. He knew he was in danger as long as he was here. But he couldn't leave his mother.

Not until he had to.

A great cheer rose up in the crowd when the ceremonial groundbreaking shovel was given to Mrs. Daugherty for the first scoop of earth. There were refreshments set up for all the attendees: lemonade and cupcakes with little books made out of frosting. Much of the crowd lingered, visiting with friends and neighbors. It was a bright, cheery afternoon, and all the horrors that the town had faced lately seemed miles away. They seemed like events from a book or a film, not possibly real.

And yet, even as the citizens joked and talked with each other, a new victim was being decided upon.