Page 85 of Night Prey
She gave a swift nod. “Is there anything unusual about this house that we should know?”
“Unusual? Not really. I think Karen liked it the best. She didn’t want to leave.” His forehead creased. “Maybe if we’d stayed there, she wouldn’t have cracked up the way she did.”
“Speaking of Karen,” Ian said. “She told the patrol officers at the scene that the gun she used was yours, and she’d never fired a gun before.”
“True. We had a break-in at our last house. Kind of spooked me, so I bought a gun. Can never be too safe.”
“Did you keep it locked up?”
He shook his head. “Kept it in the nightstand. No kids around. Figured it wouldn’t be a problem. Guess if I’d locked it up, she couldn’t have gotten to it, but who could predict she would lose it.”
“Is there anything else she told you about Junior and his connection to Olivo or Snipes?” Ian said.
“Not that I can think of.” Flagg shook his head. “I still can’t believe everything that’s happened. Losing Junior and Karen.”
“You haven’t lost Karen.”
He looked confused for a moment. “Well, sure, but she won’t be in my daily life anymore. Might have to get a live-in housekeeper.”
Yeah, this guy was about as deep as a kiddie pool, but it didn’t seem like he had anything to do with the Rices’ deaths. It was time to move on.
Malone was tired and dirty from digging through boxes. And she was sad. Looking at things from her past had brought back memories. When she’d reviewed the items with Ian, fond memories played in her mind, but today, a lot of the items seemed like anchors weighing her down. Trying to keep her in the past instead of letting her move forward.
Before she put this house back on the market, she would have Reed spend a day with her to review every item. They needed to decide what to do with the contents of the boxes. She would make four piles. Trash, give away, keep for her, and keep for Reed. Her pile would be small, the items that made the cut significant.
She didn’t need all her old toys. All the stuffed animals. Or even the Barney sheets for her twin bed. It all had to go. The mere thought of a fresh start helped replace the sadness.
She dug into the next box and lifted out a hardcover journal in a fresh mint color with a large silver cross in the middle. She didn’t remember this book. Hesitant but eager to see one of her parents’ personal thoughts, she sat on a stack of boxes and opened the cover. She immediately recognized her mother’s penmanship. Her beautiful cursive letters had swirly flourishes on some of the capital letters.
Malone remembered running her fingers over the letters as a child, hoping someday she could write as beautifully. She’d traced her mom’s signatures on school permission slips, report cards, and other items signed by her mom and placed them safely in her backpack to return to school. All next to Malone’s Barbie lunchbox that held a daily handwritten Bible verse tucked inside and an I love you note from their mom.
Tears threatened again, but she shook off the memories and flipped through the book, that was dated the year her parents had died. Malone turned to the last entries, hoping they would shed some light on what had happened at the end. Her mom had written each day, and it was in diary form. She’d started the entry on the day they died with a Bible verse,2 Corinthians 5:17. So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.
The verse was exactly what Malone needed to see. The old things were gone. New things had come. She was new. So was Ian. They were both believers. Surely they could work things out and pursue a relationship. She had to tell him about this. It was almost as if God was speaking the exact words they needed to hear.
She would call Ian, but first she would finish these boxes in case she located anything he needed to know about. She read down the page that talked about Reed and Malone heading off to school and their father starting the demolition on the wall. It ended there, so Malone turned the page. But a ragged edge told her a page had been ripped out, and the next one was torn off at the bottom. There were indents in the page from whatever was written on the missing page. She flipped another sheet. Nothing.
She went back to the entry. The very last words her mother had written. Malone could see her sitting in the fluffy chair she’d always chosen for making notes and paying bills. She would’ve had a pen braced between her teeth as she thought about what to write, her legs tucked under her.
How I miss you, Mom. More than words can say. I want to talk to you. See you. Hold you. Let you hold me.
Malone couldn’t stop her tears now and let them flow.
She could almost hear her mom say,I’m in a wonderful place, and I will see you again. Hold you again. Now move on and thrive. Live like there might not be another opportunity, because we aren’t guaranteed tomorrows.
Malone swiped away her tears and looked at the book again. The torn page was the right size and shape to be the paper found in their car. Could what had been written on the missing page tell them what had happened? Why they were in the car?
She knew forensic staff could process the indents to reveal words. They could also compare the torn page to this one. She took out her phone and looked at the photo Ian had taken of the note in the car and sent her.
Yes, it looked like it would line up.
She had to send Ian a message. She typed a text.I found a diary where my mom might’ve written something about where they were going the day of the accident. I think you’ll want to see it. Call me ASAP.
She stared at the screen, waiting for a reply, but it went black.
“Come on. Answer. Please.” She kept watching, willing her phone to light up. One minute. Two. Three. Five. Ten.
Okay.She couldn’t just sit there. He was a busy detective, and she had no idea when she might hear back from him. She jammed her phone into her pocket and set the journal aside, then dove back into the box.
