Page 126 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

“This list,” Matt tapped the folder, “if it doesn’t have anything, I don’t know what else we’ll do.”

Nothing. If that list didn’t turn up a lead, we were stuck. “I sure as fuck hope we find something, but I’m not holding my breath. If the women you questioned last month didn’t give us a lead, I don’t think we’ll find anything here either.”

“I don’t want to admit defeat, but you’re probably right.”

Matt had spent last month interviewing potential suspects—six women in total. Each had been caught on camera leaving the grocery store complex the day of the murder. Each had dark hair and had worn jeans that day. Each had driven out of the parking lot alone. Six women, and all of them had be

en cleared.

Three of them had had alibis. Thanks to their phones, they’d been ruled out because of texts or phone calls made during the time of the murder. One woman’s teenager had been with her at the grocery store, but since they’d arrived and left in separate vehicles, I hadn’t paired them together on camera. And two other women had been at the register in the grocery store, checking out at the time shots had been fired. Their credit card statements had proved their innocence.

Confirming alibis—a miserably slow process—had been necessary for the investigation, but after the initial interviews, Matt and I had known that none of the six women we’d brought in were viable suspects. None of them had motive. Each of them were, and had been five years ago, plenty well-off financially. They’d had no reason to rob a liquor store for less than a couple hundred dollars.

Which meant going back to the video footage, spending our early mornings combing through it all over again. And this time, we’d pulled every woman on tape, period. We’d identified seventeen additional vehicles driven out of the complex with females inside. Next week, Matt would start bringing them in for questioning, and with any luck, we’d find a lead before Christmas.

Otherwise, the case was dead. Matt and I would have done everything we could.

“Have you told Poppy anything?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to tell her anything until I know for sure.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. We were grasping at straws to begin with. I think she knows the likelihood of us finding anything is small. I just . . . I don’t want to let her down.”

“I don’t envy your position on this one.”

I didn’t either, but if all I had to tell her was bad news, I wanted it to come from me.

And I wasn’t giving up yet.

“Big day today. How are you feeling?” Jimmy asked Poppy.

She leaned into my side as we stood behind the counter at the restaurant. “Good. I’m just hoping I don’t freeze at the game.”

Jimmy took a sip of his coffee, his eyes softening when he looked back at Poppy. “I’m proud of you for seeing this through.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.”

My arm around her shoulders pinned her close. “So am I.”

Today, Poppy was doing the last thing on Jamie’s birthday list.

I’d been prepared these last couple of weeks, watching her closely as I’d braced for a breakdown. But I should have known better. My Poppy was handling this with pure grace.

And I was simply glad that today was it. We were done. No more lists. No more looking backward. Poppy and I were free to look ahead, to whatever came our way.

“Let me get a few last things done in the kitchen and then we can go.” She patted my stomach and I released my hold.

“Take your time. We don’t need to leave for another hour.”

“Do you guys want refills?” she asked Jimmy and Randall, getting two nods.

“I’ll get it.” I grabbed the coffee pot from behind me. “You head on back.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.

I refilled Jimmy’s and Randall’s mugs before topping off my own. Then I made my way down the counter, chatting with customers as I offered refills. The restaurant was busy this morning. Both Molly and Helen were rushing around, clearing tables and delivering food. Poppy had been here since four a.m., making sure there was plenty of food for the weekend.