Dead of Winter (Cold Case Psychic #15) - Pandora Pine Page 0,18
the shoebox, Ten saw a stack of photographs. He pulled them out, picking out Skye instantly. In each image, she was surrounded by three other girls—Lisa, Heidi, Jennifer. He assumed these were the friends Muriel mentioned keeping up with over the years.
“The Fab Four,” Muriel said from the door. “I swear, from the time they met in kindergarten, you didn’t see one of those girls without seeing the other three.” Muriel walked into the room carrying the promised Ziplock bag. She handed it to Ten and took the photos from him. “I know you’re going to think it sounds bizarre, but Skye’s entire being was dimmer when those girls weren’t around. When they went on vacation with their family or out of town to see relatives, my daughter was a different child.”
“I don’t think it’s bizarre at all. I feel the same way when I’m apart from Ronan or our daughter.” Ten cringed internally. The last thing he wanted to point out to this grieving mother was that he was going home to his little girl tonight.
“You have a daughter?” Muriel’s face lit up. “May I see a picture?” Her entire demeanor changed in a matter of seconds.
Nodding, Ten pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He pulled up the photo app and found a pic of Everly singing along to Frozen. “Her name is Everly Erin O’Mara.”
Muriel took the phone. “Oh, my, look at that red hair and those beautiful blue eyes. What a pretty baby.” Muriel handed the phone back to Ten. “Enjoy every last second with her, Tennyson. If she doesn’t want to eat broccoli, don’t make her. Give her every toy she asks for. Let her stay up those extra ten minutes. Get her the fifth drink of water before bed. You won’t regret it. I promise you.”
Ten blinked furiously to keep his unshed tears from falling. He’d said something similar to Ronan just last week. “You know, that’s the best parenting advice I’ve ever been given.” He set a hand on Muriel’s. “Thank you.”
Muriel sniffled and stood up while Tennyson put the diary into the bag. “Do you mind if I take the pictures as well?”
“Please do. Anything to help.”
Ten looked back at the closet. “This is going to sound weird, but did you look through her clothes and coats?” When Ten had pulled their winter coats out of the closet in November, he’d found a crumpled ten-dollar bill in the pocket of Ronan’s coat. Finders keepers, he’d said to himself before putting the money into Everly’s piggy bank.
A shocked look came over Muriel’s face. “I didn’t. I assumed the cops had done a thorough search.”
“From what I remember of crime in the 1980s, there was a lot of child abuse in the home and stranger danger. I’m guessing the cops didn’t look too hard at the people inside Skye’s circle.”
“What are you saying? Do you think she knew her killer?” Muriel looked as if the thought of her daughter’s murderer being someone they knew was unfathomable.
“I don’t know anything for certain, but we know now that teachers can be predators, so can the parents of other kids. We’re going to take a look at everyone who was part of Skye’s life.” Ten knew he was only exploring the tip of the iceberg when it came to potential suspects, but Muriel didn’t need to know that now.
“Ronan told Butch and me about the interview with Channel 5. We both think it’s a smart idea. It’s something we should have thought of, with the advent of social media and all that.”
“A friend of ours is going to handle the social media angle for this case. Truman Wesley is the co-owner of West Side Sweets. He’s going to run the GoFundMe page to raise money to test the remaining DNA in the case, and he’s going to start a Facebook tribute page to Skye asking for tips. If it’s okay, he’d like to share pictures.”
“Anything to help. Feel free to scan the pictures of Skye and her girl squad.” Muriel snorted. “They didn’t call them squads back then, did they?”
Ten shook his head. “I’ll keep reaching out to Skye. I promise to be in touch if I hear from her.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Tennyson. To know there are people on our side, fighting for justice for our baby. It means everything to Butch and me.” Muriel dabbed at her eyes again.
“You’re so welcome.” Ten hugged Muriel. She felt brittle under his hands, as if one