“You find it, call it in. Coincidentally, the lead detective on Landon’s wife’s homicide gets a call from an anonymous source—on a prepaid cell that pinged from a local tower—claiming, three weeks after the incident, he saw a woman with your hair and body type walking away from the crime scene on the night in question.”
“And Detective Wolfe believes him.”
“Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, but he’d like to hook a search warrant with it. It screams setup, and a clumsy one at that, so I think Wolfe’s not buying it, but like I said, he wouldn’t mind giving your place a look.”
“There’s nothing here. Nothing . . . but that gun.”
“We’ll go through the process. I can get a warrant for a search, but it’d be easier all around if you just gave your permission.”
She didn’t want it; it made her a little sick inside. But more, she wanted it over. “All right, search, look, do whatever you have to do.”
“Good. When we finish, I want you to make sure this place is locked—including windows.”
“Yes, I will. And I think I’ll spend the nights either at Bluff House or with my next-door neighbors until . . . for a while.”
“Better yet.”
“Do you have to tell Eli now?” She dropped her hand when she realized she’d been twisting the smoky quartz pendant she wore—one made in her craft room—around and around on its chain. “It’s just his family’s coming. They’re probably here now for Easter. Something like this is going to upset everyone.”
“Until I need to talk to him again, I don’t have to tell him anything.”
“Good.”
“I’ve called for somebody to come in, check for prints, but—”
“There won’t be any. But it’s the process.”
“That’s right.”
She got through it. Little house, she thought, didn’t take long. She stayed out of the way, stayed outside when she could. This was how Eli had felt, she realized, how he must’ve felt when the police came, to check, to search, to look for evidence. He must’ve felt, for that bubble of time, the house wasn’t his. His things weren’t his things.
Vinnie stepped out. “They’re finishing up. Nothing,” he told her. “No prints on the window, on the box, on the contents.” He gave her back a quick rub. “The search is a formality, Abs. You okaying it without a warrant only adds weight to this being a setup.”
“I know.”
“Want me to hang out with you awhile?”
“No, you should go home to your family.” To dye Easter eggs, she thought, with his little boy. “You didn’t have to stay this long.”
“I want you to call me, anytime, for anything.”
“I will. Count on it. I’m going to put myself together a little and go down to Bluff House. I want to see Hester.”
“You give her my best. I can wait until you’re ready to go.”
“No, I’m fine. Better. It’s broad daylight. There are people on the beach. He’s got no reason to bother me anyway at this point.”
“Keep the doors and windows locked anyway.”
“I will.”
She walked him out. Her across-the-street neighbor sent her a wave, then went back to digging in his front garden. A couple of boys raced by on bikes.
Too much activity, she assured herself, for anyone to try to get inside. And no reason now to do so.
She got a trash bag, went into the bedroom. Kneeling, she threw everything on the floor away, box and all. She couldn’t know what he’d touched. If she could, she’d have thrown everything in the closet away.
Instead, she freshened up her makeup, packed a small bag, included the sketch. After she tidied up the kitchen, she retrieved the strawberry-rhubarb pies she’d made, boxed them up.
She carried them out to her car, went back for her bag, her purse. And when she locked her front door, her heart broke a little.
She loved her little cottage, and didn’t know when she’d feel safe in it again.
Nineteen
PEOPLE, NOISE, MOVEMENT FILLED BLUFF HOUSE. ELI HAD forgotten what it was like to have so many voices speaking at once, so many activities rolling over each other, so many questions to answer.
After the initial jolt, he found himself enjoying the company and chaos. Hauling luggage upstairs or bags and platters into the kitchen, watching his niece toddle everywhere—and holding what seemed to be intense conversations with the dog—noting his mother’s surprised approval when he pulled out a fancy tray of fruit and cheese to offer as a post-trip snack.
But his biggest pleasure came from seeing his grandmother