214 Palmer Street(42)



“More chance of someone seeing or hearing you, though.”

She leaned in to talk quietly. “If someone in the neighborhood stops by I’ll give them the house-sitter story. I know enough about Josh and Cady to make it sound good.”

“Why would the house sitter be digging in the backyard?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I’m a house sitter who also does excavating?”

“Sure.” He stretched out the word, not sounding convinced. “Even to me that sounds fishy. Better get your story straight.”

“I will.”

“I can come and help when I get off work tomorrow. It would go much faster if two of us are digging.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “Even you coming here now was a risk. You’ve done so much for me already, I couldn’t ask you to put yourself in any more danger. Besides, who’s going to bail me out if I get caught?”

He looked around the yard. “I can’t believe you actually went through with this. Any chance I can talk you out of it? You can leave with me right now, stay at my place as long as you want.”

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. His offer was tempting. Even with Maggie gone and the house on the other side vacant there was still a chance she could be found out. The thought of being charged with breaking and entering and having to serve jail time loomed over her, and yet, leaving now meant she’d never know if her theory was correct. She couldn’t sleep next to Kirk not knowing if he was involved in a murder. “No, I’m seeing it through.”

“You don’t think reporting your suspicions to the police would be enough?” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I could go with you.”

“We’ve covered this already, Phil. It’s a bad idea.” And it would remain a bad idea as long as Gavin Kramer was the chief of police. He and Kirk were too close.

“One more thing,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I believe this is yours.” He handed her a thick envelope. “The receipt for the spa getaway is in there. At the coin shop I asked for large bills and this is what they gave me.”

“They didn’t question the sale?” Phil had sold twenty-six gold Krugerrands at her request. The coins were her half of an inheritance from her father, the only thing left after the funeral costs and other bills were paid.

“Nah.” He toed a rock. “I just told him it was passed down in the family. He was pretty happy to get them. Asked if I had any more. You don’t, do you?”

She sighed. “No. That’s the end of them.” She was fortunate to have the ones she had. The coins were her only personal assets aside from her retirement account, which she couldn’t touch at this point. Everything else was connected to Kirk. She doubted he’d notice they were gone, but even if he did, there was no paper trail to follow.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“With all that money left over you could have easily stayed in a hotel.”

She exhaled. “We’ve been over this, Phil. Calling the local hotels is the first thing Kirk would do.”

“You could have booked the room under my name.”

Sarah said, “Stop worrying. I appreciate your help, but I’m not your problem.”

“I know, but it’s too late. I’m already involved.” He placed a brotherly hand on her shoulder. “I worry about you, Sarah. I’ll call tomorrow. Remember, my offer still stands. You can call me anytime and I’ll come and pick you up.”

“I appreciate it, really I do. But I’m not going anywhere until I find that bomb shelter.”





TWENTY-FOUR





An hour after their call, Gavin wasn’t surprised to see Kirk’s email in his inbox, complete with an attachment. He opened it, scanned the page, and cringed. What Kirk had created was more of a declaration of love than a missing person flyer. The photo he’d chosen of Sarah sitting demurely on a boulder in front of Lake Michigan was extremely flattering and took up half the page. She was laughing in the image, as if the person taking the photo had said something hilarious. Below that was a brief description of her personality—Always has a smile on her face! Puts others first!—along with the kind of information found on a driver’s license. The rest of it was a lengthy plea for Sarah’s return.

It was dated and said:

Sarah Aden is my beloved wife, my reason for living. The minute we met, I knew she was my soulmate. In March, she was attacked in our backyard by an unknown assailant. The road to recovery has been a mixed blessing—over the past months as Sarah has regained her health we’ve been able to spend more time together. Now she’s done something out of character for her—left our home, only notifying me via a note left on the kitchen counter this morning. The note said she needed a break and would be gone for a few days. Frankly, I don’t believe she left of her own accord, and I’m sick with worry because she didn’t take her cell phone or say where she was going. I’ve called friends and family members and no one has heard from her. If you see her, please tell her I love her. I miss her terribly and want her back. Kirk Aden.





At the bottom he’d left his contact information along with the words:

ANY INFORMATION, CALL ME, DAY OR NIGHT!

Karen McQuestion's Books