Page 38 of Little Bitter Truths
“Where did you hide it?”I asked.
Mia pointed toward the tree near the front walk.“Under the garden fairy at the base of the trunk.”
I stood so fast I almost lost my balance, going down the steps and crossing the yard, my pulse loud in my ears.The officers near the front of the house turned to look, but I paid them no mind.
I was on a mission.
The garden fairy was half hidden by low flowers and greenery.I pulled out the mini flashlight I’d been carrying around in my pocket and clicked it on.Then I crouched down, lifted the ceramic fairy, and aimed the beam beneath it, bracing for what I might find.
For one suspended second, I expected to see a small brass key tucked into the dirt.
But nothing was there.
No key.
No glint of metal.
Only disturbed soil.
I remained frozen in place, the fairy still in my hand, the flashlight beam fixed on the empty patch beneath it.
And in that instant, everything about the dream I had made sense.
15
Morning arrived with a bright softness that felt undeserved after what had occurred hours before.By the time I pulled into the small shopping plaza just off the main road, a steady stream of people was already moving in and out of the cafés and boutiques.
I parked and noticed my dinner date was already there.Mia stood near the entrance to the coffee shop with a phone clutched in her hand.At first glance, I didn’t see any signs of the shaken woman I’d left on the porch in the middle of the night.Today she looked a lot more like the version of Mia I’d first met—composed, polished, and in control.
She was dressed in a fitted ivory blouse that she’d tucked into tailored black slacks, and her hair was styled with precision.If not for the faint signs of a lack of sleep around her eyes, no one would have guessed she’d almost been attacked in her own home the night before.
She saw me and offered a small smile.
“You look like you’ve had a lot more sleep than I have,” she said.
“Appearances can be deceiving,” I replied.
We went inside, ordered a couple of coffees, and took a seat at a small table near the window.For a moment, the low hum of conversation around us filled the silence, along with the clatter of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.
“How are you doing this morning?”I asked.
“I keep replaying last night in my mind,” she said.“It’s hard not to, right?Waking up and seeing someone standing in my doorway.I didn’t want to believe the killer was after me.I convinced myself it wasn’t true.”
“And now?”
“The more I think about it, the harder it is to ignore.I still don’t understand why someone has it out for me.I don’t live a dangerous life.I go to work.I come home.I have dinner with work colleagues now and then, but I’m not involved in anything that would lead someone to …”
She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
“To want you dead,” I said.
She nodded.
“If someone wanted to harm you, who comes to mind?”I asked.“Is there anyone you’ve quarreled with in recent months, or perhaps someone who might be holding a grudge?A relationship that soured …?”
Mia hesitated.“I suppose when you put it that way, I can think of a few people, but being upset with me is far different than wanting to kill me.I can say their names, but I struggle to believe any of them would ever do me harm.”
I removed a notebook and pen from my handbag, ready to jot down any relevant information she might give me.
