Page 31 of Little Bitter Truths
“What if the killer murdered the wrong sister?”
They pondered my theory.
“Are you suggesting someone meant to kill Mia and killed Wren instead?”
“I’m suggesting it’s possible.”
“All righty.Walk me through it.”
“The killer goes to the house believing Mia is inside,” I said.“Maybe they had no idea she was away at a conference.They see a woman who looks like her, and assuming it is her, they shoot her.After the shot, they notice something, maybe a subtle difference between the sisters, and they lift Wren off the floor to get a better look.”
“To confirm who they just killed.”
“Yep.Mia has a birthmark the size of a pea below her left ear.Wren didn’t.”
Whitlock shook his head.“That’s one hell of a theory.It’s plausible, but we’ll need to prove it.”
Giovanni turned toward me.“If what you’re saying is true, Mia could be in danger.”
I nodded.“I ran my theory by Mia earlier, and she blew it off.But there was something … a hint of worry in her eyes.”
Whitlock polished off the last of his wine and stood.
“Leaving so soon?”I asked.
“Your Aunt Laura is, ahh, waiting on me so we can … indulge—yes, indulge in the latest episode ofShrinking.She claims she’s a fan of the show, of course, but I suspect—no, I’m certain she’s always found Harrison Ford rather easy on the eyes.”
Most women would agree.
“I wanted to see you because I'm concerned about Mia’s safety,” I said.“Most killers wouldn’t risk striking again this soon.Then again, logic doesn’t always factor into murder.”
“I’ll call Foley on the way home and see if we can have a couple of our officers keep an eye on Mia’s house tonight,” Whitlock said.
“I appreciate it.”
“In the meantime, be sure to call me if anything else comes up.”
Whitlock showed himself out, and Giovanni and I took the wineglasses to the kitchen, rinsing them out in the sink.Then he wrapped his arms around me, and even though it brought me comfort, an uneasy feeling was settling in my chest.
If my theory was right, Mia had a target on her back.
12
Sleep didn’t come easy.
Even after the house had gone quiet and Giovanni turned in for the night, I lay awake beside him, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything I knew so far until my mind was so filled with possibilities exhaustion took over, and I drifted off.
I opened my eyes sometime later to silence.Not the comfortable kind of silence.The kind that felt wrong.I sat up and looked around, realizing I was inabedroom, but notmybedroom.I slipped out of bed and walked to the door, opening it.Down the hallway, a faded beacon of light beckoned, and I made my way toward it, finding myself in Mia’s living room as the dream took hold.
Shadows stretched across the walls in long, uneven shapes, and the television flickered in the corner, muted.It was the same late-night glow I’d imagined Wren had been in right before she died.I looked down, seeing Wren sprawled on the floor in front of the sofa, her body positioned just as it had been in the photographs I’d seen.
I leaned in for a closer look, and the air shifted.A ball of light drifted across the room, bending and shaping itself until a figure emerged, a second version of Wren suspended in midair.She looked much like she had in life, except there was a stillness to her that didn’t belong to the living.
Her gaze dropped, settling on her lifeless body.
“Hi, Wren, I’m?—”
“I know who you are.I’ve been waiting for you.”
