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The photo of Renee and Kaylee taunted Priscilla from the kitchen counter. It hadn’t occurred to her before that Kaylee’s disappearance and the Truman child’s might be connected. But what if they were?
It wouldn’t hurt to call the police, she supposed. Maybe this detective would listen to her.
Only she didn’t trust the cops. The one assigned to Kaylee’s case hadn’t listened. Instead, he’d arrested her sister and crucified her. Then she’d died in prison.
Priscilla still thought she’d been murdered.
Fifty-Seven
Honeysuckle Lane
Lara wrapped another present, today’s gift, a snow globe with a miniature version of the North Pole inside. Ever since she was two, when Ava saw a snow globe in a store she squealed with excitement, picked it up and shook it. She was mesmerized as the snow swirled around and around like a blizzard. Seeing her delight, Lara had started a tradition, and each year added a new one to her collection.
On the first year, a polar bear stood beside a sign for the North Pole. The next year’s held a Christmas tree lit with colored lights. The third held miniature figurines depicting a family of three opening presents beneath a tree. Carolers were in the next one. Then a Santa sleigh and Santa’s village.
She set the present on the mantle with the others, her throat thick. They would wait there for Ava to come home and open them. Her little girlwouldcome home, she told herself. She had to.
The doorbell rang, and the deputy went to answer it. At the sound of her neighbor Dottie’s voice, Lara stepped into the living room. Dottie had half a dozen cats and constantly watched everything everyone did in the neighborhood. Lara hadn’t decided if she was a caring lonely woman or a busybody. She expected the neighbors who’d reported her and Jasper’s arguments to the police were, in reality, all Dottie, so Lara was leaning toward the latter.
“I brought some chicken soup by,” Dottie said with a sympathetic expression. “Thought you might need some comfort food.”
Lara wasn’t hungry but murmured thanks anyway.
“I’m so sorry to hear about Ava,” Dottie said. “I’m praying for you, hon.”
Lara felt suddenly moved, and found she couldn’t speak. Dottie didn’t seem to expect it. She just handed the soup to Lara. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Lara nodded, battling the lump in her throat while Deputy Eastwood saw the old lady to the door. Maybe she was caring and lonely after all, rather than just nosy.
“She’s right, you need to eat something,” the deputy said when she returned. “Keep up your strength for when Ava comes home.”
Ifshe comes home, Lara thought, struggling with the fear consuming her.
“I’ll heat this up and make some tea,” the deputy offered, then she took the pot from Lara.
Lara simply nodded and followed her to the kitchen, her calendar on the table mocking her. Each day of winter break, she’d planned a special holiday activity with her daughter.
Her lungs strained for air. Yesterday was popcorn day. They were supposed to make popcorn balls and string popcorn for the tree. She’d also planned for them to fill bags, and hand them out to the neighbors.
Emotions choked her as she glanced at the supplies she’d purchased for today.
Graham crackers, assorted candies, sprinkles, and icing to decorate gingerbread houses. The candy canes were Ava’s favorite. She always placed a Hershey’s Kiss in the middle of the door for the doorknob and lined candy canes along the wall, then added M & M’s on the roof.
Despair overcame Lara, and she laid her head down on the table and closed her eyes.Where are you, Ava, baby?she silently asked.Hang in there and don’t worry. Mommy will keep everything waiting on you so we can decorate the gingerbread houses together when you come home.
Fifty-Eight
Somewhere on the AT
“Come on, Ava, we’re going to make gingerbread houses today. Won’t that be fun?”
Ava looked up at the tall skinny woman with the messy dark hair and sank back against the wall. “I wanna go home. Mommy and I make the gingerbread houses together. She’s waiting on me.”
“No, she’s not, Ava. I’m your mommy now,” the woman said, her voice sharp, like when the teacher got onto the boys at school for throwing rocks. “And we’re going to be a family.”
Ava shook her head back and forth, tears blurring her eyes. “You’re not my family. My mommy is.” Her chin wobbled and she brushed at her cheeks. Her throat hurt so much from crying that her voice sounded like a frog’s.
The woman stroked Ava’s hair and straightened the sash on her dress. “Now, now, I know this is hard. But your mommy asked me to take care of you,” she said. “She’s so tired and doesn’t have the money now to be a good mommy. And I’m going to love you forever and ever.”
