* * *
For a while, they were quiet after Sara finished her story.
Kate looked at the other two. “I guess we should get some sleep. We can make decisions about what to do in the morning.”
No one moved.
“The sheriff’s department wouldn’t let Gil take the stand lights. They’re still there.”
Kate looked at the tray full of food. Only Jack had eaten any. There was no question in her mind as to what they were going to do. They were going to start going through the garage contents now. “I’ll put this food in bags. Aunt Sara, you get us water.”
“Jack,” Sara said, “get the box of gloves from under the sink. Kate, put on some solid shoes.”
As the two women got up, Jack sat there smiling. “Am I allowed to make a remark about women changing their minds?”
“No!” Kate and Sara yelled.
“It was just a thought.” He heaved himself up. “Do you really think Flynn sent Mrs. Bruebaker to us?”
“Oh, yes,” Kate said from the kitchen.
“Definitely,” Sara said.
* * *
At the Morris house, they were solemn as they entered. Maybe this was when they would find out the truth.
Jack went in first. He turned on one of the big lights and aimed it toward the corner where Dan had been hanging. Kate knew he wanted to make sure she saw that there was no longer a body there.
The image, still vivid in her mind, flashed in and out, but then it settled to show the empty corner. Sara and Jack were staring at her, waiting for her to reassure them she was all right.
With a small smile, she nodded and they let out their breaths. “Where should we start?”
“In Cheryl’s ‘haven of peace’ as she called it.” Jack opened the door of the smaller bedroom.
The room was filled with packages: sealed boxes, bulging shopping bags, a plastic laundry basket, a bucket, a big leaf bag. Everything had been stuffed with household and personal items.
The sight of it reminded them of how the two women had hurriedly thrown their belongings together so they could make a fast getaway. Why? Kate wondered. Because Cheryl had finally told her mother she was pregnant? By whom? The town bad boy?
That thought made her look at Jack. He was eleven then, but his father... When Jack glanced her way, Kate turned away in fear that he’d read her thoughts.
“Do we work separately or together?” Sara asked.
“Together,” Kate said.
“I agree.”
“Gloves on,” Sara said.
The first box they opened held old lawn-mower parts. They closed it. Next was half-empty jars of motor oil.
They moved to another part of the room. Jack slit the tape across the top of an old Clorox box. “Bingo.”
Inside were worn paperback books and the three on top were Sara’s. Jack pushed aside a rusty old garden tool, took out a book and opened it. Inside was an inscription.
To Cheryl,
Hope you enjoy it,