Why had these things been left here and others taken away? It was almost like a shrine to the murder victim. Then she understood. This was the last place the owner’s—supposedly her grandfather’s—son had lived, and Mr. Reed couldn’t bring himself to change or do away with his belongings. Of course, that was assuming he was a nice and sentimental person.

  Anne had her doubts considering he never bothered to check on her.

  Jack caught up with her, and they moved on to the next door in the narrow little hall. It was a second, even smaller bedroom that held a desk and bookcases. Ungraded school papers lay on top of the desk. Jack went through the three drawers in the desk while Anne checked the tiny closet. The door had been turned into a makeshift bulletin board complete with corkboard. A couple of school notices were posted there, the pages yellowed and the corners curled. A business card from a local law firm had been pinned near the top. If Anne recalled correctly it was the firm where Neil had interned during his final year of law school.

  Jack reached down and closed the final drawer of the desk. “Nothing beyond more school papers and supplies in here. I didn’t see anything that belonged to Neil.”

  Anne scanned the books on the shelves. “Apparently Mary was fond of romance novels.” One entire shelf was lined with the paperbacks. Another held books on education and teachers’ manuals.

  Jack joined her. “My mother is a huge fan of romance novels.” He sent her a sideways glance. “How about you?”

  “Sadly, there is never enough time in the day for me to indulge in reading.”

  “You should make time for yourself.”

  With that profound statement, he moved on to the next room. Anne followed, pondering the idea that maybe he was right.

  The one bathroom was miniscule. Typical three-piece, sink, tub and toilet, and seriously dusty. Shampoo and soap as well as a razor and aftershave remained.

  The kitchen was another small space, shoehorned between the side of the house that was bedrooms and the larger room up front that was the living room. Jack looked through the cabinets and in the fridge and oven. The man was thorough for sure.

  Anne lingered at the fridge and studied the small photos peppering the surface. Most were held against the appliance with magnets of various shapes and colors. One magnet was a back-to-school shout-out. Another was an apple with a pencil next to it. But it was the photos that tugged at her senses.

  Another smaller version of the eight-by-ten on the wall in the living room. Other candid shots of Mary with her friends. Anne recognized Eve and Carin in two of the photos. Their faces and hairstyles were the same as the photo in the locket. Anne decided those were going with her. One by one she removed the photos from beneath the magnets. She tucked them into her shoulder bag. When they interviewed Mr. Reed, she would offer them to the man. If he didn’t seem to care about them, Anne would keep them. Surely he cared since the house remained standing. But if he didn’t take action eventually, the house would likely be torn down. Maybe that was his intention after all this time.

  Putting thoughts of him out of her mind, she considered all that she had seen. Overall, she imagined that thirty or more years ago the little house would have been considered a nice starter home. Good bones and all the necessary options. But now, like the rest of Mary Morton’s existence, it was disintegrating. The thought made Anne sad on some level beyond her control. No matter that she hadn’t known the woman… Mary had been her mother.

  From there they locked the front door and went out the back. The stoop and its two steps were far ricketier than the front porch and steps. There wasn’t a lot to see out back beyond the thick greenery and knee-deep grass. Jack cut through the heavy overgrowth and went inside the detached shed-style garage. It wasn’t large enough for today’s SUVs or trucks. Absolutely tiny by today’s standards.

  He came out swiping at a spiderweb he’d walked through.

  “Anything?” Anne already knew the answer.

  He shook his head.

  She turned and stared at the house once more. This was where the couple had, from all accounts, been happy. No one had seen the trouble coming—according to the documentary she had watched. Had Mary hurried home to this place each day after school to prepare dinner for her soon-to-be husband? Had they made love on that double bed and conceived a child in that same room? It would seem so.

  But then, if this was home to the fairy tale, what went wrong?

  Why shoot and kill the man she loved? The father of her child?

  Unfortunately, it was very possible that Anne would never know the answers to those questions. But she intended to give it this one shot. Her gaze lit on Jack. He had insisted he could find the answers.

  Would those answers be the ones she wanted to hear?

  Anne shook her head. Funny, the end result suddenly mattered in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

  Chapter Seven

  Crystal Lake

  Judith’s Cocktail Lounge

  Williams Street, 2:30 p.m.

  Judith’s Cocktail Lounge was quite an upscale place, with soft music playing from hidden speakers and tables tucked in cozy niches as well as a bar that offered more seating. The elegant menu offered “small plates” of international appetizers and entrees that smelled as wonderful as they looked. The accompanying menu photos showed the entrees artistically arranged on pure white plates. As a designer, Anne appreciated the pleasing visuals.

  She had not realized she was starving until the charcuterie board for two was placed on the table. Once she started eating, any talk had to wait. By the time the wooden board was bare, Anne was utterly stuffed. She sipped her lemon water and finally allowed her mind to replay the tour through the cottage on Fairlawn Drive.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out the photos she’d taken from the fridge door. After pushing the board aside, she spread the photos in front of her like a deck of tarot cards. Somehow the images in the photos were every bit as ominous. She tapped the one photo that showed all three of the female friends. “This is the same photo that’s in the locket.”

  Jack nodded. Then he flashed Anne a wide grin. “Look around. That was taken here.” He pointed to the elegant bar. “Right there.”

  She looked from the bar to the photo and nodded. “You’re right. Is that why you suggested this place?” She studied the photo again and then surveyed the intimate cocktail bar with new interest.

  Jack followed her gaze, taking in the details as well. “It is. The place had a different name then.” He shifted his attention to Anne. “She mentioned—in the journal—coming here once a week after school for a girls’ night out.”

  Anne hadn’t made the connection considering the new name. “With the headline change,” she pointed out, “it’s likely under new ownership.”

  Before he could comment, the waitress paused at their table. “Would you care for a cocktail or coffee?”

  Anne smiled. “I’m good—thank you.”

  “This place has a new name,” Jack said when the waitress’s attention swung to him, then he gifted her with a charming smile that clearly dazzled her. “Has the management or owner changed as well?”

  The waitress, Cherry, returned the smile with a dreamy one of her own. “It used to be JJ’s,” she confirmed. “For Jerry and Judith Trenton, but the owners got divorced. The wife ended up with the bar in the settlement, and she changed the name to Judith’s.”

  “Is Judith here by any chance?” Anne mentally crossed her fingers.

  Cherry, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two or-three, nodded eagerly. “She is. Wednesdays are ladies’ poker night, and she’s setting up the club room.”

  “We’d love to say hello,” Anne said hopefully. “My mother used to come here. She told me all about the place.”

  Cherry nodded. “I’ll let her know you’re here.” She looked to Jack once more. “Would you like anything else?”

  “No, thanks.”

  When the waitress had hurried away, Jack gave Anne a thumbs-up. “Good move.”

  “It’s mostly true.” She sipped her water. “Like you said, the journal mentioned this place.”

  “When we leave, we’ll drive by the address where the Langstons lived then and now. You won’t believe the change—talk about moving up. The apartment building where Carin Carter Wallace lived is gone. There’s a huge supermarket there now. Like the Langstons, based on her current address, she’s moved way up as well.”

  “Rumor is,” Anne pointed out, “there’s money to be made in the world of politics.”

  Jack chuckled. “There is that.”

  A gasp drew their attention to the woman suddenly standing next to their table. She looked to be in her late sixties or early seventies. Her white hair was arranged in a youthful bob around an unexpectedly smooth complexion. Her pantsuit was silk and a spectacular blue that emphasized the color of her eyes.

  Judith, no doubt. Anticipation and no small dash of anxiety swelled inside Anne.

  “Oh my God,” the older woman murmured. “You are the spitting image of your mother.”

  Anne flinched, couldn’t help herself. She recovered quickly and held out her hand. “Anne. The long-lost daughter.”

  Judith shook her hand but then placed her own against her chest. “It’s utterly uncanny.”

  “And you’re Judith,” Anne suggested.

  “I am indeed.”

  Jack scooted over, making room on his side of the booth. “Please, join us.”

  The older lady settled into the seat next to him. She smiled at him, her shiny pink lips parting to show off straight, white teeth. “Thank you. And you are…”

  “Jack.” He offered his hand then. “Jack Brenner from the Colby Agency. I’m helping Anne find the answers she needs.”

  Her hand fell away from Jack’s, and another gasp hissed across her lips. She put her fingers there as if needing to hold back whatever might have popped out next. When her hand dropped to the table, she looked from Jack to Anne. “You’re here because we’re closing in on the thirtieth anniversary, and you want the whole story.”

  Anne nodded, going along with the narrative Jack had opened. “I felt it was time.”

  “Oh, and Mary just passed.” Judith made a sad face and shook her head. “Such a tragic story.”

  “Mary left me her journal and other evidence.” Anne stretched the facts just a little. “We’re going through everything piece by piece.”

  Judith’s jaw fell open for a moment before she snapped it closed once more. “Things are going to hit the fan, aren’t they?”

  The twinkle in her eyes told Anne she wasn’t sad or angry about the notion.

  “Possibly. The truth deserves to be told. In fact—” she turned to Jack “—we were just talking about paying a visit to the Langstons and to Carin Carter Wallace.”

  That twinkle brightened, and the older woman’s grin widened. “This is going to be epic.” She nodded sagely. “Finding the whole truth should have happened ages ago.”

  Anne couldn’t help but laugh. Her heart rate had finally started to slow, and she was feeling a little elated. “Any help you can provide with our efforts will be greatly appreciated.”

  “Well—” Judith nodded “—I’m more than happy to do so.” She glanced at Jack. “I’m not a big fan of our illustrious senator and his wife—or his assistant. That said, I was going through a divorce at the time of the murder, so I wasn’t with it and available as much as I might have otherwise been.”

  She turned fully to Anne then. “Mary was here every week with her friends. They had dinner and cocktails. Oh, and they laughed.” She sighed, her expression melancholy. “I just don’t understand what happened. Mary loved Neil so much. They came by nearly every weekend and had a cocktail, usually on Saturday evenings before going out to dinner. They always made it a point to say hello if I was here. I just can’t believe…” She shook her head and fell silent.

  Anne’s heart was racing again.

  Jack leaned in close to Judith. “Don’t worry—we’re going to find the truth.”

  Judith smiled at him again. “I cannot wait to watch the fireworks.”

  * * *

  A HALF HOUR LATER, they left the bar. Anne drew in a lungful of air as they walked side by side to his car. Her heart rate had only just fallen back down to normal. Not for a moment had she expected to be so moved…so absorbed in this journey.

  “You were amazing back there.” Jack sent her a sideways look. “Talk about getting the grapevine stirred up. I’m certain, as Judith said, fireworks will follow.”

  Anne waited while he opened her door. “I don’t know what got into me. I felt like Miss Marple. I just couldn’t slow the momentum.”

  She settled into the passenger seat and realized she could not wait to tell Lisa all about the day. As much doubt and uncertainty as she had suffered at the idea of doing this…she was so very glad she’d agreed. There was something here…something that had been rotting away for thirty years…decaying bit by bit. Anne intended to find it before it disappeared completely.

  Jack slid behind the steering wheel. “You should watch out. The Colby Agency will be trying to recruit you.”

  Anne laughed, and for the first time in too long to remember, it felt deep and real and relaxed.

  Maybe this had been a really good idea.

  Truly, how was she supposed to move on with her life without settling the past once and for all?

  This effort really was essential to her future.

  * * *

  FROM THE OUTER limits of Crystal Lake where they did a drive-by of the vintage, aka rundown, apartment building where twenty- and thirtysomethings Eve and Kevin had lived, they drove the twenty minutes to Barrington. Senator Kevin Langton and his wife, Eve, currently lived in a fifteen-thousand-square-foot mansion on Plum Tree Road, recently valued at nearly six million dollars. The place looked more like a castle than a home. Although the property was not on the market, there was a listing on Zillow that showed that the estate included a vast thirty-seven acres. There were walking trails and a barn for horses. The lavish details went on and on.

  “This is—” Anne stared at the towering gate that fronted the drive leading to the property “—crazy luxurious.”

  “Ready to see where the assistant lives?”

  Anne had a feeling Carin Carter Wallace’s rise from an administrative assistant in a small-town mayor’s office to where she was now would be equally astonishing. “I can’t wait.”

  “Like I said, the apartment building was replaced with a big super store,” he reminded her. “For perspective, the images of the building before demolition were very much like the one where the senator and his wife once lived.”

  “I’m amazed at the amount of research you did.” His work put hers to shame.

  He glanced at her. “Just doing my job.”

  And Anne was pleased that he’d been so very thorough. It hit her then that they really did have a shot at finding the truth.

  The drive was only a couple of minutes from Plum Tree Road and onto Rolling Hills Drive in the same high-end community.

  Carin Carter Wallace, the senator’s assistant, lived in a far more modern residence consisting of a mere six thousand square feet ensconced on an intimate five acres, valued at just over four million, according to Zillow.

  Soaring windows sat in a cutting-edge contemporary design. This home, too, was fronted by a towering gate. Anne wondered if their secrets made them yearn for extra security. But that was petty of her. She didn’t know these people.

  “Not too shabby,” Jack commented.

  “One of my foster mothers used to say, ‘Pretty is as pretty does.’ Maybe we’ll find out if all this is representative of what’s in their hearts.”

  Anne had never been one to judge a book by its cover, but something about these people felt very wrong even if she didn’t know them. Maybe it was the journal and all that it insinuated. But those words could be nothing more than Mary’s bitterness. Time would tell, Anne supposed.

  The drive back to the hotel gave Anne time to do a good deal of thinking. The journal suggested that someone close to Mary and Neil was responsible for the murder. At the moment, the big question in Anne’s mind was, Did the astonishing transformation in the lives of those close to Mary and Neil have anything to do with the murder?

  Frankly she couldn’t see how at this point. But what she could see was the possibility of people who were ambitious, ruthless…maybe capable of anything and who perhaps knew more than they’d told the police. But did that make one or all a murderer? No…but it certainly merited further consideration.

  On the other hand, it was very possible these suspicions were popping into her head because those were the things she wanted to see. Was she superimposing their extravagant personal gains onto a scenario of evil that was actually only a theory?

  This was personal for Anne—more personal than she would ever have believed. As hard as she might try, remaining completely objective was likely impossible. Though she’d had no relationship with her parents, there was the potential for wanting some tiny aspect of their story to not be a heinous murder story.

  All the more reason to be grateful for the Colby Agency’s involvement. Jack would keep her grounded and on the right track. He would be objective as it became more and more clear that she might not be able to.

  Anne was exhausted when they reached the hotel. At her door she turned to Jack. “Thank you. I’ll be honest—I had major reservations about doing this…all the way up until this morning actually. But now, just talking to someone like Judith and seeing where Mary and Neil lived, I can truthfully say that I’m glad I came.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad too.” His gaze was direct when he started to speak once more. “But fair warning—don’t thank me until we’re done. The part that comes next may not be nearly as much fun.”

 

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