“I noticed there was no mention of forced entry in the police report. I want to look at things like shrubbery, trees, other ways someone might hide and get into the home.”
“Those things might have changed over the years,” Blake said.
“I’ll take that into account.”
They walked around the house to Blake’s truck. She got in the back seat while the men claimed the front. It would give her time to steel herself for the upcoming trip down memory lane.
Chapter 8
Blake stepped back and let Paradise and Drew wander the home and yard where Paradise had spent most of her childhood. He tried seeing it through their eyes—the new paint and floors, the freshly updated kitchen, rich with the sweet scent of maple syrup on the morning’s pancakes. He’d hoped the differences would keep the pain at bay for the woman he loved, but the shadows in her amber eyes told the true story.
While Paradise showed Drew where the box of belongings had been found, Blake wandered to her old bedroom and stared at the closet where she’d hidden while a killer bludgeoned her mother to death. It was still decorated for a little girl since Evan and Honey’s daughter had claimed the room. The fairy princess room was an explosion of bubblegum-pink walls with a matching comforter. He stepped closer to the closet.
What had happened here was something no child should have had to go through. Had anyone examined the closet for anything left from those old days? Honey had said to poke through anything they wanted, and he made the quick decision to do just that.
He opened the closet door and pushed all the hanging clothes to one side, then removed the mishmash of shoes and toys on the floor. He turned on his phone’s flashlight app and shone it around the floor and walls. There didn’t appear to be any cuts in the drywall that would indicate a hidden panel. He moved the desk chair to the closet and stood on it to peer around the walls above the closet shelf before training the light on the ceiling.
It was a bust.
He sighed and put everything back the way he’d found it and started for the door. Then he swung back and stared at the closet. What about the floorboards? He went back to the closet and moved aside toys and doll clothes again. He checked each wooden plank one by one until his fingers brushed ridged edges. The board didn’t feel tight. He used his pocketknife to pry at the board, praying he didn’t do any damage. Evan might not appreciate the defacement of his daughter’s room.
Blake was about to give up when the edge of the board popped loose, and he lifted it up, revealing a small storage pocket underneath.
His fingers grazed something, and he shone his light inside. A pink diary held closed by a discolored brass clasp lay covered in dust in the cramped space under the floor. His pulse shot through the roof. It had to be Paradise’s. Almost reverently he lifted it out and put the floorboard back into place and stared at the diary.
Though he wanted to open it and read it, he stopped himself. This was Paradise’s privilege. Maybe he should check to make sure there weren’t any surprises that would ambush her emotions. His fingers moved toward the clasp, but he drew back his hand. She wouldn’t thank him for interfering in her quest. These were her secrets to discover and unwrap. Hers to confront, no matter how difficult they might be.
He rose and stepped to the hall. Their footsteps were above his head, moving toward the ladder they’d climbed to the attic. He waited for them with the diary clutched against his body. Paradise descended first, smiling up the pull-down ladder at her brother. The sight of her joy swelled Blake’s heart. Discovering her brother had been good for her.
Drew’s big shoes came next, and he landed next to her, then slung his arm around her shoulders. Their camaraderie was so natural it could have been lifelong. Blake smiled to think how their relationship would grow over the years. Drew would be a good uncle. He was a natural with the boys.
Blake cleared his throat and Paradise’s smile veered his way. “We didn’t find anything but dust and spiders that I had to kill for Drew. Who knew a big, strong detective would scream like a girl when a spider scurried his way.”
“I didnotscream.”
Her gaze returned to her brother, and she poked him in the ribs. “Sounded like a scream to me. And you backpedaled so fast you nearly fell.”
“It startled me.”
“We were in anattic, Drew. You should always expect creepy-crawlies.”
He removed his hand from around her and gave her a little shove. “You’re a vet. You have to like all the animals.”
Her expression sparkled with mirth that faded when she approached Blake and spotted what he held in his hands. “Is that a diary?”
He held it out. “I found it under a loose floorboard.”
Her eyes widened, and she reached out to touch it. “I—I think I recognize it.” She took it and fiddled with the lock. “I probably don’t have the key any longer.”
Blake took out his pocketknife and bent over the diary in her hands. “I think they’re easy to pop open.” One little twist of the blade and the clasp released. “There you go.”
She stared at it. “I’m not sure I want to read it. What if the truth about their deaths is in here, and it’s my fault?”
“Babe, it’s not your fault. No matter what happened, you have to remember you were nine years old. You’ve never had a mean bone in your body.” He lifted the diary’s cover. “Maybe go straight to the back and see when you last wrote in it.”
She glanced at Drew, who gave her an encouraging nod. “Let’s get coffee. I think I need fortification for this. Pray for me,” she whispered for Blake’s ears alone.
“Always,” he said.
