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Waiting until I was done before calling the police and absolutely refusing to go into the house until after they’d arrived.
“I touched it,” I told one of the officers as I handed him the sketchbook. “I mean, every page. I looked through it.”
He just dipped his head as he took it from me with gloved hands and turned for where the cars were parked.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” the officer I’d been speaking with asked, the same one Chase had spoken to the morning the canvas had been returned.
“Fiancé,” I corrected, head shaking a little as I explained the entire messy situation we were in. From the wreck and coma to the amnesia and his need to be where he currently was.
“He doesn’t even know I found one of his sketchbooks yet,” I ended with a heaving breath. When one of the officer’s brows ticked up, I hurried to add, “He will. I’ll tell him. But what he’s doing is important.”
“For his memories,” the officer said with a nod. “He mentioned something about that when we were here last time. Wasn’t sure what to thinkthen, considering he only said, ‘I don’t know if I’ve cheated on her or done anything that would cause someone to do this,’ when I’d asked about the burned photo.”
“Right,” I said shakily. “Right, it’s complicated.”
“I see that now,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “Well,” he went on, folding his notebook and putting it in one of his pockets, “we’ll routinely patrol around here. Make sure we don’t see anyone who shouldn’t be here. If you could give us a list of cars that are normally here, that would help.”
I hesitated as I gestured to mine. “I teach classes out of the garage. There are always people coming and going.”
“Well, we’ll still keep an eye out,” he said with a shrug. “Also, we know they had a key and went through a door last time since the house was locked up tight. Now, I don’t know if you’ve changed the locks since we were last out—”
“We did.”
He nodded for a while before saying, “If you gave out spare keys to the exact same people, then that doesn’t help us. But if you didn’t, the people without keys should be considered as possible suspects since it doesn’t seem like they went into the house today, and the book was left on the porch.”
“I understand,” I said as my thoughts drifted to Litany. That horrible mixture of denial and sadness and fury filling my veins
“Not saying it is one of them,” he added as if he hated putting the thought in my head that it could be someone close to us. As if it hadn’t alreadybeenin my head. “Again, just something to consider.” With a wave, he started backing away to the cars. “Call us if something else happens. And maybe look into getting one of those doorbell cameras.”
“Right, thank you,” I called out, even though I had a feeling it wouldn’t be necessary.
I was positive I knew who was behind all this.
Well,mostly.
If I’d been one hundred percent positive, without a doubt, I wouldn’t have called the police to come get the sketchbook.
But for every sign that pointed to Litany, there were bigger ones that pointed away from her and to no one at all.
* * *
I finished pulling my shirt over my head and hurried out of the bedroom about half an hour later when Bree yelled, “I have coffee!” just before the front door slammed shut. “Tell meeverything.”
“I adore you,” I said as I ran my hand through my still wet hair from the shower, an amused huff tumbling from my lips when I actuallysawBree. Purse and computer bag falling off her arm as she juggled a drink carrier and phone in one hand and her keys in the other.
Absolutely chaotic.
“Wait, did you have class?”
“Um, don’t even start with me, friend. Family always comes first. So does drama,” she said matter-of-factly, scrunching her nose at me.
“Bree,” I began hesitantly as I took the drink carrier from her, worry touching my voice, “you didn’t have to skip class for this.”
“Hush,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Tell me all the things. What’s happened since family night?”
An unsteady breath left me. “What’s happened just this morning,” I muttered and then gave her a look. “You might want to sit down because it’s a lot.”
She took a long drink of her coffee before saying, “Nope, I’m ready. Hit me.”
