Pretty Little Wife(86)

Ginny’s head shot up. Her gaze went from Lila to the board to the open office behind Lila. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

Story of her life.

She stopped just inside the door and stood there. She hoped the casual entrance would ease some of the rushing panic thrumming off Ginny. “I got a call from the prosecutor’s office.”

Ginny stopped looking around and shifting in her seat and frowned. “About what?”

“A courtesy call about the additional bodies that had been found in and around the cabin. Julie and Yara. Yara had been on the news, but Julie . . . I guess it was inevitable they’d find her, too.”

“Really?”

“They also wanted Tobias to know the FBI was all over this case now.” The initial panic at hearing that news had worn off the second the FBI made it clear Aaron’s crimes, not her potential ones, were the focal point.

“That’s not necessarily true.”

Ginny didn’t disappoint. She fought the good jurisdictional fight to the end.

The fact she’d read someone right for a change made Lila smile. She came fully into the room and sat down in the chair across from Ginny. “What is true, then?”

The tension wrapping around Ginny seemed to vanish. She leaned back in her chair as if she were no longer ready to usher Lila out of the room and away from her precious board. “I would love for you to answer that question. Honest answers, without any zigzagging, would be a nice change.”

“I keep seeing their photos in the press.” She nodded at the photo of the pretty woman on the far right side of the board. Brunette with blue eyes. “Julie.”

Sighing in what sounded like resignation, Ginny stood up. She went to the board and pointed to photos as she spoke. “Here’s Karen, and this one is Yara.”

Both brunettes with long hair. Pretty and alive with energy. Smiling in the photos. So young, with so much ahead of them, and Aaron had snuffed it out. He thought he was entitled. That even their breath belonged to him.

Lila’s gaze fell on a photo in the middle of the board. “That is the bracelet you asked me about before.”

She hadn’t been able to get it out of her head since the first time she saw it. The idea of Aaron keeping his mother’s bracelet ticked off a suffocating sensation in her throat. Was it love or loss . . . or something far more sinister?

“Any more information on that?” Lila asked when Ginny didn’t offer any explanation.

“No.”

The firm response grabbed Lila’s attention. “Is it possible Aaron put his trophies in with jewelry his mother owned? Is that a thing killers do? Like, he lost his mother and this is all somehow wrapped up with that abandonment?”

Ginny shrugged. “Possible.”

That tone. Ginny had a theory, and Lila thought she wanted to say it. “But you don’t think so.”

“The killings might relate back to his mother in some way, but no, I don’t think this was a storage issue.” Ginny leaned against the far end of the board. “I also think he killed more than the three women you see on the board.”

Lila had the same fear. A man like Aaron didn’t just start killing in his midthirties. His personality hadn’t changed during their marriage. Maybe he’d become more settled, but so had she. She couldn’t pinpoint any sort of break, which meant he hadn’t changed and his violent behavior likely extended well into the past.

She heard voices behind her. Men talking and phones ringing. There were only a few people in the main offices at those desks, but the noise never stopped. Activity buzzed around them.

She got up and moved closer to the board. To the one photo that kept calling her. “What’s this bracelet?”

“It was Karen Blue’s.”

Lila looked at the photo. Saw the round charm. It ticked off a memory in her head . . . one she couldn’t quite grab. “Seventeen.”

“Have you seen it before?”

“No.” Lila’s gaze moved to the next photo as she tried to connect the pieces, but her mind wouldn’t cooperate. “This is the cabin? I thought it would look different.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. More rundown, maybe. Abandoned, like he rarely went there and never just to hang out.” The wood was in good shape. A sturdy front porch and solid roof. Falling leaves had been removed from the steps leading to the front door. The cabin looked lived-in, not like women died there.

“It’s a one-bedroom with a storm cellar.”

Cellar. Lila had seen enough movies to know that sounded bad. “Is that where Karen was?”

“No. She was . . .” Ginny stopped herself. Her hesitation ticked on for a few seconds. “Tied to the bed.”

The words slammed into Lila with the force of a bat to her midsection. Every muscle stretched and shook.

“Aaron, you piece of shit.” She meant to think the words, not say them, but they came out in a low whisper.

Ginny didn’t say anything, but Lila could feel her gaze. She watched and assessed, as she’d done from the beginning.

Lila was about to turn around and go find Tobias when a detail caught her eye. She pointed to the photograph. “This chair.”

“Yes?”

A rocking chair, probably handmade. Thin spindles and large armrests. A place where someone could sit and rest their hands. “Was it in the house?”