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Bonnie picked up the photograph. "Who was he really?"
"The gardener. He was crazy about those hibiscus bushes. He was also married, with two kids."
"Pity," said Bonnie seriously. "And you told Frances not to tell anyone about him…"
"Right." Elena checked her watch. "Which means that by, oh, say two o'clock, it ought to be all over
the school."
After school, the girls went to Bonnie's house. They were greeted at the front door by a shrill
yapping, and when Bonnie opened the door, a very old, very fat Pekingese tried to escape. His name
was Yangtze, and he was so spoiled that no one except Bonnie's mother could stand him. He nipped at
Elena's ankle as she went by.
The living room was dim and crowded, with lots of rather fussy furniture and heavy curtains at the
windows. Bonnie's sister Mary was there, unpinning a cap from her wavy red hair. She was just two
years older than Bonnie, and she worked at the Fell's Church clinic.
"Oh, Bonnie," she said, "I'm glad you're back. Hello, Elena, Meredith."
Elena and Meredith said "hello." "What's the matter? You look tired," said Bonnie.
Mary dropped her cap on the coffee table. Instead of answering, she asked a question in return.
"Last night when you came home so upset, where did you say you girls had been?"
"Down in the – Just down by Wickery Bridge."
"That's what I thought." Mary took a deep breath. "Now, you listen to me, Bonnie McCullough.
Don't you ever go out there again, and especially not alone and at night. Do you understand?"
"But why not?" Bonnie asked, bewildered.
"Because last night somebody was attacked out there, that's why not. And do you know where they
found him? Right on the bank under Wickery Bridge."
Elena and Meredith stared at her in disbelief, and Bonnie clutched at Elena's arm. "Somebody was
attacked under the bridge? But who was it? What happened?"
"I don't know. This morning one of the cemetery workers spotted him lying there. He was some
homeless person, I guess, and he'd probably been sleeping under the bridge when he was attacked.
But he was half dead when they brought him in, and he hasn't regained consciousness yet. He may
die."
Elena swallowed. "What do you mean, attacked?"
"I mean," said Mary distinctly, "that his throat was nearly ripped out. He lost an incredible amount
of blood. They thought it might have been an animal at first, but now Dr. Lowen says it was a person.
And the police think whoever did it may be hiding in the cemetery." Mary looked at each of them in
turn, her mouth a straight line. "So if you were there by the bridge – or in the cemetery, Elena Gilbert
– then this person may have been there with you. Get it?"
"You don't have to scare us anymore," said Bonnie faintly. "We get the point, Mary."
"All right. Good." Mary's shoulders slumped, and she rubbed at the back of her neck wearily. "I've
got to lie down for a while. I didn't mean to be crabby." She walked out of the living room.
Alone, the three girls looked at one another.
"It could have been one of us," said Meredith quietly. "Especially you, Elena; you went there
alone."
Elena's skin was prickling, that same painfully alert feeling she'd had in the old graveyard. She