Page 67 of We Already Dug the Grave

“Wow.” The word escaped in a whisper. I’d seen the room before in photos, but that didn’t do the space justice. Rich hardwood floors flowed beneath our feet, so pristine that under other circumstances I’d have felt guilty keeping my shoes on. High ceilings were propped up with walls painted a muted lavender.

The paint color reminded of the lavender comforter I’d bought Frances as a peace offering so long ago. I’d never actually given it to her, and when I ran away, it had still been in the back seat of my old truck. I’d slept with it until it was nothing but a tattered rag.

There were hints of the girl I’d once known, the old version of Frances. The oil paintings that hung in thick frames were all of nature. Moths and butterflies and luscious, green weeping willows. One painting of a dogwood raining white flowers reminded me of home, of the trees in our Puddle Creek yard and a favorite sketch of Aunt Hattie’s that hung in the living room.

“Come on.” Frances tugged me toward the staircase. We passed a side table that held two bronze candlesticks that on closer inspection depicted lizards crawling the length of them. Sitting between the candlesticks was a coffee-table book with colorful geometry illustrations on the cover, titled Elements of Euclid.

I smiled because this house was proof. My sister as I’d once known her still existed.

At the top of the stairs, Frances turned, a nervous look in her eyes. “Burt has this wristwatch that he’s worn in several photo shoots. I was thinking it would make sense for it to fall off at a crime scene if he was digging or burying a body, right?”

I shrugged. “Maybe? Seems like it would be easy enough to say it’s not his. We need something undeniable.”

“His name is engraved on the back. It was a gift,” Frances said. “I’ll get it from his case in his closet.” She glanced around. “His office is at the end of the hall. You can look around in there and see if you come across something better. Just, you know, he’s particular and will notice if things have been rifled through.”

Nodding, I said, “I’ll leave it exactly as I find it.”

Frances walked toward what I assumed was their bedroom, and I headed toward Burt’s office.

“Milly?”

I stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For believing me.”

“I’ll always believe you,” I said.

The hallway felt like a cavern. The same, uneasy feeling still danced along my skin, reminding me to hurry.

Burt’s office held none of my sister’s touches. One side of the room was covered in floor-to-ceiling built-ins made of a dark, expensive-looking wood that matched his oversize desk. Brown leather chairs sat around a cowhide rug while framed football paraphernalia hung from the walls. The room smelled like furniture polish and cut tobacco.

I looked around, unsure where to start or even what I was looking for. If Burt wasn’t wearing the watch Frances mentioned, it would be the perfect piece of evidence to plant, but maybe there was something else too. A backup plan. His shelves held the kind of leather-bound books that were never read and knickknacks that probably made sense to someone, but not to me. I sat down in his desk chair and began opening his drawers.

The top one held pens and paper clips. In another I found much of the same, but also photographs depicting Burt and my sister dressed in Auburn University sweatshirts with eye black on their cheekbones. They held foam fingers and grinned widely at the camera. I kept digging. The back of the drawer held jewelry: some rings, an earring missing its back, a necklace with a broken clasp. My breathing hitched. Frances had mentioned Burt’s trophies. Who had these belonged to? Were their owners lying in holes somewhere, with no one looking for them?

The big drawer on the left held a mostly empty filing system, so I moved to the last drawer on the right. Unlike the other, it had a lock, and I was surprised when it slid halfway open with ease.

My anticipation was thrumming.

A voice startled me out of my focus. “Boo.” Frances appeared in the doorway.

I inhaled deep breaths, trying and failing to steady my racing heart.

“You look spooked,” she said, smirking a bit.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “You found it?”

She nodded, holding the wristwatch up by its golden band. “Yeah. Now, let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I jumped to my feet. My leg bumped against the still-open desk drawer. I bent to nudge it closed, then froze, feeling sick.

“Milly?” Frances stepped toward the desk. “What’s wrong?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but quickly shut it, suddenly unsure how to form words. The chill that had wound its way around my spine now shot icy daggers through my body, and bile gurgled up my esophagus.

I shook my head and reached down.

No. No this couldn’t be what I thought.