Page 82 of Lost Lake
Alert now, she got up. “There’s something hard under the last cushion.”
Gabe knotted his forehead. “None of us would put anything under there.”
She started to lift it up, but the sofa didn’t belong to her. “The room has obviously been cleaned after your last guest, but maybe the last person who stayed here hid something there. Who stayed here last?”
“Kenna and Lucy. Last weekend.” He started toward the sofa and flipped up the cushion.
A thick journal lay on the frame.
El stared at it, her heart starting to pound. “It’s green with a big black cross on the front exactly like Mrs. Z. described.”
Gabe reached for it.
“Wait.” El dug in her suit pocket for disposable gloves and handed them to him. “You don’t want to ruin any forensic evidence.”
As he slipped his fingers into the gloves, he cast her a sideways look. “You always happen to have gloves with you?”
“Once a detective, always a detective.” She smiled. “But seriously, you never know when you’ll need them, so I make sure I have a pair in all of my suit jackets.”
Gabe sat, placed the journal on his lap, and lifted the cover.
El sat next to him. “Can I make a suggestion?”
He looked at her. “I’m listening.”
“Let’s start at the back to read her final entries. That should give us her most current movements and help us find something to go on.”
“Good point.” Gabe flipped to the back and laid the pages open on his lap.
She scooted close to him so she could read the entries too.
Gabe tapped the second page under the wordsSafe Harbor. “She mentioned Safe Harbor. It’s a group home that she told me she volunteered at. She never said much about it other than they cared for difficult kids.”
“There was a plaque hanging in the lobby thanking the center for partnering with them.”
“That’s probably how she got involved.” He turned the page. “She worked as an admin on evenings and weekends. She says she had access to enter bills into the financial system, to vendor lists, and some internal emails.”
Not surprising,” El said. “Her house was super organized, so I can imagine her doing this.”
Gabe flipped the page again. He stabbed his finger against the paper. “Someone saw her making a copy of records. Threatened her then threatened Lucy.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Probably why she put the locks on her doors.”
“But if she was in danger for this, why hide the journal instead of coming to me? She sat right here talking to me, and she knew about it, but didn’t say anything.”
“Maybe if she stumbled onto something illegal, she thought if she reported it, she would be safe.”
“Yeah, I could see her thinking that.” He punched the arm of the sofa. “If her death had something to do with this, and she’d told me what was going on, she’d still be alive. Lucy would be safe.”
“I’m sorry, Gabe, but on the bright side, this is our best lead yet. Stronger than your brother by far.” She regretted having to continue, but Gabe had to know where this was headed. “If these people did indeed threaten her and Lucy, then perhaps they had second thoughts on simply making threats, and decided to kill her.”
El couldn’t think of any better place to be at the moment than the Lost Lake Locators’ office, where Gabe had zero reservations over waking his teammates at four a.m. to discuss the journal. He’d given them a five-minute warning to get dressed and book it to the meeting room. Five minutes later or less, they stumbled into the room, none of them grumbling.
Reece immediately started brewing coffee. Then as everyone else sat stretching and rubbing their eyes, she pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen. No one questioned her actions. They must all expect her to provide food. She’d chosen to be the mom of this group, and loved doing it. In El’s mind, it equaled herding a group of unruly toddlers, and she didn’t envy her position.
Gabe claimed a spot standing at the head of the table and quickly shared details about the journal. “Hayden, we need you to do a deep dive on Safe Harbor. New Tide Foundation, too. They fund the home.”
“I’ll get started right away.” Hayden opened his laptop, which was seemingly always in his presence.
