Page 145 of Trust No One

A truck’s rumble lured me to the front window. A forensic van plus an agent’s vehicle. Judson.

I opened the front door as he crossed the porch. “Hey.”

Judson raised his gaze to mine. “We’ve come for the trunk and to collect evidence in the attic.”

“Of course.”

The tall woman behind Judson nodded. “I’m Agent Meg Pollard. Forensics.”

“Good to meet you.”

“I know the way,” Judson said.

Molly’s footsteps thudded toward me. She pressed her body against the back of mine and peeked around me at the two of them. Judson winked at Molly. She grinned.

“Molly and I were just about to go for a walk,” I told him.

Judson nodded. “We’ll be here at least an hour.”

“Take your time.”

“I don’t want to walk,” Molly said.

I grabbed her jacket and mine from a hook by the front door. “You haven’t seen where the horses used to live.”

She frowned. “Are there horses here?”

“Not now. But they have an interesting home.” I hustled on her jacket and slid on mine. “We better go before it gets really dark.”

Under protest, Molly followed me out the front door. The horse barn was located on the west side of the property. The barn had been built in the 1960s and in its day had housed six horses. By the time Judson and I had dated, the barn was empty. It had been our private place.

We walked through the tall grass toward the gray barn. Gabled roof, a weathervane, wide front doors, and windows on the first floor.

“Horses lived here?” Molly asked.

“They did.”

“What were their names?” she asked.

“Pumpkin, Regal, and Popcorn.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Weird.”

“I was very little when I named them.” In a corner of one of the stalls, a cat darted across the hall. Hissed. “Barn cat. We have a few of them.”

“I like cats. Do barns have dogs?”

“Sometimes.” The stray I remembered was a hound-shepherd mix. When dogs didn’t hunt well, the owners dropped them alone in the country.

Memories flashed of the skeletal remains in the attic trunk. Had that been the dog I’d befriended? “These are a little wild. Be careful around them. They can bite.”

A frown furrowed deep in her brow. “Can I have a horse?”

As we moved into an empty stall, I remembered the day Judson and I had first stolen away to be alone. I was so nervous. He was quiet. Steady. “I’m not sure these stalls are good enough for a horse now.”

“When you fix the house, will you do the stalls?” she asked.

“Maybe. First, I need to sell land to pay for it all.” I wanted to please her. She’d lost so much. “If we can get a horse, what would you name it?”