All the Dark Places(27)

“That’s a good idea,” Chase says.

“Will you have outside cameras?” I ask.

“Yes. My sister ordered it.” She almost smiles. “Cameras inside and out, all the bells and whistles.”

Chase says he’ll walk her to her car, and I head back to my office. I’ve got my notes spread out on my desk, the video pulled up on my laptop, when Lauren walks in.

“We found something, Rita.” She holds up an evidence bag with an envelope inside. She drops into the chair opposite me and lays the bag flat. “The guys found it wedged in the back of one of the filing cabinet drawers.”

I grab my reading glasses from my jacket pocket and lean close to the bag. Lauren lets go an excited breath, pulls on a latex glove, and reaches inside. She lays the envelope on top of the bag.

It’s a power company envelope, like the ones your bill comes in. “Okay.” I glance up at her.

She pulls a folded white tissue out of the envelope, unwraps something shiny, and drapes a delicate necklace over her palm like an anxious jeweler. She runs her thumb over the round disk of a pendant. There’s a chip of topaz set in the middle, with SCORPIO inscribed beneath it.

“Interesting,” is all I manage. “Doesn’t look awfully expensive.”

“It’s not,” Lauren gushes.

I lean back in my chair. “You think the perp was coming back for that?”

“He was coming back for something.”

“But a fairly worthless pendant?”

“The necklace might have some meaning for him.” Lauren licks her lips. “I think we ought to at least look into it. Why take the trouble to stash it in a locked filing cabinet? And here’s the best part,” she says, and flips the pendant over. “Initials.”

I sit up. Push my reading glasses up the bridge of my nose, but, shit, I still can’t see them.

“A.R.,” Lauren says.

“It could’ve been in that drawer forever.”

Lauren taps her finger against the envelope. There’s a postmark. The bill was mailed two weeks ago.

“Huh.” That changes things. Dr. Bradley hid the necklace recently. “Okay, I see your point. It’s worth looking into.”

“I think so.” Lauren folds the necklace back into the tissue, replaces it in the envelope and bag, and jumps up. “I’m going to start digging.”





CHAPTER 17


Molly


WEN I GET HOME, THE SECURITY GUY IS PULLING AWAY FROM THE curb. Corrine is in the kitchen, laptop open, cycling through screens.

“How’d it go?” she asks without looking up.

“Okay. They showed me video they got from the Fergusons’ security camera. It shows a guy walking past their house headed in our direction Saturday night. They wanted to know if he was the same man I saw last night.”

“Was it?”

“Might’ve been. It happened so fast.”

“Well, look.” She tips her computer toward me, and I see my backyard in black and white, startlingly clear. Corrine clicks through screens, and I see the office, with its yellow tape a sickly gray, one piece fluttering in the wind. Then she switches to the backyard, fence and trees, the side yard, the driveway, and finally the front porch and street view. She clicks more keys, and all shots shrink into tiny rectangles and fill the screen.

“You can see everything at once,” Corrine says. “Or one shot, or a couple at a time. She stands, runs a hand through her hair. “Same for inside. Wherever you have your phone or computer, you can see both inside and outside.”

“Wow.”

“Secure as Fort Knox.”

“Will they bill me monthly? How does that work?”

She blows out a breath. “Rich and I are paying for it.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Not an option. It’s done.” She picks up her Coach purse and swings the strap over her shoulder.

I appreciate her generosity but feel unsettled. This is just another thing she thinks I can’t do for myself.

“Look, Molly. It’s no big deal for us, okay? We want to help.”

This I know. They both earn big salaries, and Rich has family money besides.

“How are you set financially?” Corrine asks. “Mom and Dad are worried, and I told them I’d talk to you.”

“I’m fine. You guys don’t need to be concerned about me.”

“Now that Jay’s income is gone . . . did he have life insurance? Savings?”

“Yes, of course.” Though I’m not sure how much. I wasn’t worried about making ends meet before. I turn and walk to the back door, where I can see the office.

“You could sell the mountain house,” Corrine says. “You don’t use it that much anyway.”

The mountain house in New Hampshire. Jay inherited the property from his mother. It was all she had to leave him. It had been in her family for years, originally built as a hunting lodge. Apparently, her great-grandfather had made money in shipping, but each succeeding generation had squandered a little more until they’d sold off everything except their vacation home in the mountains. It’s a beautiful place up a steep mountain road with majestic views, a couple of rivers and lakes nearby. We go up a few times a year and often invite friends.