Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,52
She’d approve of the cleaning, sure. Tabitha had become a master at it. But she wouldn’t be happy to see her daughter scrubbing toilets for a living after all the sacrifices she’d made.
Tabitha’s mom had worked two jobs so they could afford an apartment within a good school zone in the suburbs. There hadn’t been money for maids or dance lessons or private tutors, and her mom had set aside every spare dollar so that Tabitha could go to a four-year university instead of a two-year community college like her mother had attended.
Tabitha wiped her nose. She was crying again, damn it. She was going on day four of barely any sleep, and her nerves were frayed.
Never look back. She couldn’t get bogged down in the past. She had to be strategic. She had to make a plan.
She finished the bathroom and stuffed the bundle of sheets into the hamper of her cart. She dragged the vacuum into the living room and collected dirty mugs from the coffee table.
Her gaze fell on a silver corner peeking out from a magazine.
A laptop.
Tabitha’s pulse skittered. She nudged the magazine aside. It was a Lenovo notebook, just like the one she used to schlep home every weekend from her job at McKinney Steel. Before she could think about what she was doing, she flipped open the notebook and powered it up. The familiar whirr and chime made her heart start to pound. It would probably be password protected. Of course it would.
The screen brightened and she was staring at a sunset desktop photo with a tidy row of icons arrayed across it.
No password. How lucky was that? It had to be a sign.
She glanced over her shoulder at the door. Frank was on the property somewhere. And the guest could waltz in here at any moment and get her fired.
But she had to look. She had to know. Not knowing what happened was making her insane. She clicked into a browser and stared at the screen.
Tabitha hadn’t touched a computer in twenty-two months. The withdrawal had been excruciating, worse than giving up coffee for Lent. She’d had no idea how addicted she’d been to her devices. But she’d forced herself to stay away, because she knew the quickest way to blow her cover was to get online and take the teeniest, tiniest step back into her former life.
Now she stared at the screen and pondered what to search.
She had no idea where Robin had been living. They’d only spoken once since the day of their testimony when Robin handed her that burner phone and they’d made a pact only to use it if everything went to shit. But Robin, in typical Robin fashion, had broken the rules, calling Tabitha on her last birthday and leaving a message. Just the sound of her voice had made Tabitha realize how desperately lonely she’d become. Tabitha had always been a bit of a loner, but these last few months she’d felt utterly isolated.
A slamming door made her jump and turn around. It was the neighboring unit, where the guests had slept in.
Focus.
She turned back and stared at the screen, debating what to search. Back when life was normal, Robin had been obsessed with the idea of moving to California. They’d be trudging up Wacker Drive after lunch, with the icy wind off Lake Michigan freezing their noses and making their ears ache, and Robin had talked longingly about beaches and surfers.
Was that where she’d settled?
Tabitha’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. Her hands trembled as she typed in the search terms: CALIFORNIA AND MURDER AND WOMAN.
A list of results appeared. Tabitha held her breath and skimmed them: Elderly woman murdered during home invasion. Long Beach woman killed by stray bullet. Chico woman arrested in husband’s murder.
Tabitha scrolled through page after page, but none of the dates fit.
She bit her lip and reconsidered. The Marshals were footing the bill, so California was probably out in terms of relocating a witness. Too expensive. Ditto New York.
She tried broader search terms: MURDER AND WOMAN AND UNIDENTIFIED.
She hit enter and held her breath as a slew of new headings appeared.
Unidentified murder victim exhumed. Boise woman unidentified six years after murder. Police release name of woman murdered on bike trail.
Tabitha’s stomach clenched. The date on the last story was Tuesday and the reporter was Bailey Rhoads of the Austin Herald. Tabitha skimmed the first few lines.
The search continues for suspects in the murder of 25-year-old Dana Smith, who was stabbed to death