Page 33 of Breathe Me In

“Yes, and when you asked me to look through Shelly’s mail, that’s when I remembered she’d asked the landlord to collect it for her while she was on vacation. I sorted through it all, and as soon as I found it, I called you. But please, you can go through it all if you want.” She placed a heap of mail in front of him, and as he sifted through it, I took the opportunity to look around the house a little.

“Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

“Not at all. The main one is broken, so please use the other—it’s just up the stairs on your left.” She motioned toward the stairs.

I climbed the stairs up to the landing and admired the photos on the wall as I went. They painted a picture of a small, loving family with a daughter who was an obvious overachiever and seemed to share a love of soccer with her father. I smiled when I saw the mother as she held up an award that read World’s Worst Cook; her daughter laughed next to her. Maybe Sherry has one too. I almost laughed at the thought—until the realization that I was staring at a family that had been ripped apart by some monster hit hard. My heart squeezed at the thought of their loss. Their beautiful daughter taken from them at a time when she should have been living her best life.

I moved on and saw the parents’ bedroom on my right, so I headed left and peeked into what looked like a guest room, then moved down the hall and pushed open the door to a room that had obviously belonged to the young woman. Shades of soft pink and purple with white curtains and a matching bed skirt clashed with the vanity that overflowed with brightly colored jars and stacks of small plastic boxes. I stepped inside and did a quick scan of the room. A couple of gray cats raised their heads from where they were entwined on a soft beanbag chair. They both lost interest in me in seconds and curled themselves up and went back to sleep.

I studied the room and used the skills I’d honed from my past work trying to locate kids to see if anything stood out here. I raised my camera and started to document the room my way. A few photo strips from her senior year lined her vanity mirror. She was a cheerleader, and I spotted her among her teammates in the base position. The brightly colored lipsticks were stacked neatly in clear jars with lip marks showing each color on a paper next to it.

“I’m impressed. You were organized,” I whispered as I pulled on a pair of gloves and sorted through the stack of papers and notebooks on the vanity. I pulled a photo off the mirror. It was a picture of Shelly and some friends out at dinner. There were a few men staring at them in the background. I snapped a photo of it so we could study it later and slipped the original into my pocket.

“Hello there.” I studied a Velvet Nightclub napkin that had a phone number scribbled on it. If I were to guess, I’d say the handwriting was male. Thick and scrawly. I carefully tucked it into an evidence bag. The perks of not wearing the badge meant I didn’t have to document things, but I handled it carefully for DNA. I moved to the drawers and felt around. Something smooth hit my fingers, and I found an iPad Mini. Slowly, I sank onto the vanity stool as I tried to turn it on. Nothing—it was dead. I did a quick scan of the wall and around me and found a cord that had slid in behind the vanity. I plugged it in and waited until I saw the apple appear.

“What else you got for me, Shelly?” I left it to charge and headed over to her bed. “Give me a direction,” I whispered as I respectfully sat on the edge of the mattress and looked around. “What happened that made you catch this guy’s eye?” Shelly was smart, pretty, young, athletic. She seemed like a really good friend and girlfriend. A beep pulled my attention to the iPad.

Shockingly, there wasn’t a password on the device. I swiped through the icons and noticed one was a simple, faded gray color. “There you are.” One thing I had learned quickly about young adults was where they hid things. Fake icons were often used to hide their social media platforms. “Of course, TikTok strikes again.” I had a love-hate relationship with that particular platform. In this case, the victim’s outcome had already been decided, so I needed to look at this as a win. “Let’s see who you’ve been interacting with.”

My phone pinged, and I quickly pulled it free from my pocket.

Patrick: You’ve been gone from the ranch almost all week, and your chores are piling up.

I rolled my eyes but then reminded myself that I knew I needed to do damage control with my family, and part of that was following through on my word that I’d help out more.

Bree: What can I do to make it up to you?

Patrick: Give me and Max the weekend and do the trail rides with the new company coming in today.

Bree: Deal.

Patrick: And lend me your truck.

I laughed. I’d be happy to lend him the beast for the weekend. Looked like I’d be sitting on a whole different seat for a couple of days anyway.

Bree: Deal.

I got a thumbs-up, and I instantly felt better.

“Where was I?” I quickly tapped the app and stopped when I came across Shelly’s posts. I saw the newest post, then her second and the one after that. “Well, hello there.” I shut the iPad, returned it to her drawer, and pocketed my gloves.

Chapter Seven

Brad

When Mrs. White turned away, I used the toe of my shoe to flick the mangy little cat, who now had my shoelace in its teeth, back into its bed next to me. The little bugger was impossible to shake and seemed to think it was a game. I grimaced as I tried to brush some cat hair from my pant leg. I’d picked a bad day to wear a suit.

I saw Bree as she reached the bottom of the stairs and quickly stood up to say my goodbyes. If I needed to stall any further, the little feline was going to end up as a hat.

“Excuse me.” Bree touched Mrs. White tenderly on the arm as she joined us. “I’m wondering if you’d mind if we had a quick look through Shelly’s room? You never know what we might turn up that could help.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” Bree smiled and stepped back to let Mrs. White lead the way. I followed, curious what she might have already discovered.

Holy shit, the girl’s room certainly screamed female. Who knew there were so many shades of pink and purple to put on your face? Between this cotton candy nightmare and Lord of the Cats up- and downstairs, I really needed a shower. That and some bleach on a Q-tip to scrub out my nostrils. I wondered briefly if I’d ever get my sense of smell back.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking for”—Mrs. White waved around with a sniff—“but you’re welcome to look around. She only came home on weekends since she started working.”