Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(72)

“I don’t know,” Brad said. “But maybe Stephanie hid something in the studio.”

Andi followed her brother to the studio but held back as he unlocked the door. “Do we even have time to do this? And what are we looking for, anyway?”

Will checked his watch. “It’s four ten and the cemetery is ten minutes away. That gives us thirty minutes.”

“I have to change my clothes,” Andi said.

“Maybe this would be a good time to do that,” Will said.

The gentleness in his voice brought tears to her eyes, and she looked away to keep him from seeing.

“No. I told you I need to do this.” She followed them into the studio but kept her eyes averted from the spot where she and her mom had found Stephanie.

She could do it. It was only a room. If she could go into Steph’s bedroom in the house, she could do this. “What exactly are we looking for?” she asked again.

Brad surveyed the room. “Anything that looks like it doesn’t belong. Or a place Steph might have hidden something.”

“I’ll search the glaze room,” she said. Anything to get out of the room where her sister was killed. She walked to the smaller room. Glaze buckets on runners lined one wall. A table with pieces ready to go into the kiln, a shelf with greenware . . . She really ought to fire those pieces. Next week, maybe, if the kiln still worked.

Stephanie always kept a journal, and Andi didn’t remember seeing it after her death. “Brad,” she said, going back to the main room. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t already thought about the journal. “Stephanie kept a journal. Do you know if Mom still has it?”

“I’ve never heard her mention it, but you know Steph would not have left it where Mom could find it, anyway. Do you remember what it looked like?”

“She always had to have this special notebook. It wasn’t very big, maybe five by eight, and it was black and had an elastic band on the top.”

“Then that’s the size hiding place we’re looking for.”

Andi returned to the glaze room and searched every nook and cranny in the room. Nothing. She wished she’d been closer in age to her sister. If she had been, Steph might have shared more of what was going on in her life. Andi couldn’t think of anything her sister could have been involved in that resulted in someone wanting to kill her.

Steph always said she had to set an example for Brad and Andi. Steph was Andi’s hero, and she would not have been involved in anything illegal.

Will stuck his head in the doorway. “You need to get dressed. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

“Five minutes? I’ll have to be late.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Go ahead. There’s no need for you to wait,” she said, then hurried from the studio to her car for her clothes, then went inside the house to change. Eight minutes later she walked out the back door, dabbing on her lipstick. “You’re still here?” she asked when she saw Will.

“Yeah. Brad went on, but you can ride with me.”

What was he talking about, ride with him? “I’ll drive myself.”

“I’d rather you ride with me. I’ll drop you off and you’ll already be here for supper.”

He’d asked about the pills, and now he didn’t want her to drive. She must have done something totally stupid when she wasn’t herself. But her head was clear now. Andi planted her feet. “There’s no reason I can’t drive myself. I feel perfectly fine, and my ankle is perfectly fine.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you’ll either go with me or stay here. You’re not driving.”

She held his gaze until she realized he wasn’t budging. “Okay,” she said with a curt nod.

It wasn’t long before they turned in to the cemetery and drove the winding road around to the back. He hopped out and hurried around to open her door.

“Thank you for making sure I arrived in one piece,” she said stiffly.

He bowed. “Sir Galahad is always at your service.”

Heat infused her cheeks as she faintly remembered calling him that. What else had she said? She shook her embarrassment off and walked to the group of people under the tent.

“I’m so glad you made it,” Laura said, taking her hand. “I wish there were more people here.”

Andi looked around. “I felt like I should be. I see Maggie’s here,” she said.

“Yes. And a few people Lacey went to church with.”

A man in a black suit approached Laura, and Andi squeezed her hand. “I better get a seat.”

She joined Maggie in the back row. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I was afraid no one would come.”

A black Cadillac pulled behind Will’s car, and Jared Donovan climbed out of the driver’s side.

“Why do you think he’s here?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t know.” She glanced at Will to see if he took note of Donovan’s arrival. He had. She turned her attention to the front when the pastor stepped to the small podium.

Lacey Wilson’s graveside service was a simple one with no flowers other than a casket spray of red roses. Fifteen minutes after the pastor began, he concluded with a prayer. Andi sighed. A handful of mourners, none who seemed very sad, a few minutes’ recap of a life, and it was over. She pressed her lips together. She wanted her life to count for more than that.