shoe on the ground. “This isn’t fair. You tricked me! I lied to the police. I could go to jail.”
“Olivia may have lost her life because of your silence. You need to make things right.”
CHAPTER 11
I dropped Maddie off at the hotel and unfolded a map of the town, spreading it out over the steering wheel in front of me. In months past, I’d thought about getting a GPS, or even using the map application I had on my iPhone. But ever since my grandfather had taught me how to use a printed map, I’d never been led astray. Besides, what people said about old habits was true—and most of mine were alive and well.
One sixty-eight Pinecone Avenue was the easiest house on the street to locate given the large green ribbons wrapped around a cluster of pine trees in the corner of the front yard. At the base of the trees photos, candles, and even a few weathered and worn teddy bears stood as a reminder that Olivia may have been gone, but she was not forgotten.
The shrine in Olivia’s yard reminded me of a trip I’d taken to Ground Zero a few months after nine eleven. Maybe I should have been scared to fly there, with the nation on high alert and all, but I wasn’t. I’d been afraid of few things in my life, and dying wasn’t one of them. The chain-link fence surrounding the area where the twin towers had once stood offered visitors a view of heaping dirt piles and broken concrete. The fence, an attraction of its own, had been covered with everything from flowers to poems written by compassionate people from all walks of life. But that wasn’t what I’d noticed most. It was the silence. The eerie, chilling silence—the kind of quiet hush that makes a person feel like they’re not alone in a room, even when they are.
“Can I help you?” said a female voice from behind me.
I turned to see a woman in a yellow dress. A knitted shawl was wrapped around her arms. The wrinkles around her eyes gave the appearance of someone much older than me, even though I guessed she was young enough to be my own daughter. Almost.
“Hello,” I said. “You must be Olivia’s mother.”
She nodded.
“My name is Kris. Who are you?”
Across the street I could see an older woman peeking at us through a lifted slat in her mini blinds. I imagined she thought I hadn’t noticed, but the constant bobbing up and down of the two-inch slat was a clear indicator we were being watched. And I guessed she wasn’t the only one watching.
“I wondered if I could talk to you for a few minutes about your daughter,” I said, turning back to Kris.
“Are you a—”
“Reporter or a cop? No.”
“Then who are you?”
Kris’s next-door neighbor turned on the outside water, grabbed the hose, and started watering a patch of flowers right next to the spot Kris and I were standing. I wondered if the neighbor realized how odd she looked sprinkling water onto flowers that looked like no amount of resuscitation could ever bring them back to life. It was obvious they hadn’t seen a drop of moisture in weeks. This didn’t seem to deter the woman who stared down at the crop like she expected a full recovery at any moment.
Kris smiled at her neighbor, but it was one of those strained half-smiles, the kind one woman gives to another woman they’re trying to avoid.
“How are you today, Sylvia?” Kris said to her neighbor.
Sylvia glanced over, shocked to see us standing there. “I’m well. Who’s your friend?”
I couldn’t help myself.
“Kris and I went to high school together,” I said. “I was passing through town and thought I’d stop by and see what she’s been up to lately.” I looked at Kris. “Why don’t we go inside?”
Once the door was closed, Kris said, “I don’t know how I feel about you lying to my neighbor. I don’t even know you.”
“It doesn’t take much to understand the women on this street have nothing better to do with their lives than to keep their nose in yours.” I stuck my hand out. “My name is Sloane Monroe. I’m a private investigator hired by Noah Tate. I believe you know him?”
Kris stood there looking at my hand, stunned by my revelation.
“It’s okay. He told me he talked to you. And I know about what he received in the mail.”
Kris walked to the sofa and sat down.
“So you