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He nodded. She’d told him that before, but words weren’t sinking in properly at this point. “And then? We go back to my place?”
“Yes. Burke will join us after the cops are done here. We’ll both sleep at your place tonight. If those assholes show up again, they’ll be sorry.”
“And he’ll be justified in defending us because he’s already shown that someone trashed Dad’s house looking for something.” He could do words. Mostly.
She gave him an encouraging nod. “Right again. One more thing, and you don’t have to decide tonight. What do you want to do with your father’s truck?”
He flinched. He hadn’t wanted to do anything with his father’s truck, but he figured he needed to. “Probably donate it. I’ll make some calls tomorrow. Dad and Mom supported a youth shelter nearby. I’m sure they’ll make good use of it.”
“Would you mind if I gave it a once-over tonight? He might have left something in it that you’ll want to keep.”
“I’ll help.”
Her smile was kind. “If you’re sure. I’ll get Burke to cover us.”
“I hope Dad didn’t leave any food in it. I haven’t opened any of the doors or windows yet.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I hope not, too. But I’ve seen worse. Smelled worse, too.”
He supposed she had. “Did you see your father’s body?” he blurted out before he realized that he was going to ask.
It was her turn to flinch. “Yes. He’d asked me to come to his house that night. Said it was important. I got there just before the cops did. Jake, my brother-in-law, had called them. I was staring down at my father’s body when I heard Jake tell them that he’d shot my dad in self-defense. That my dad was trying to... hurt Harper. That when he tried to stop Dad, Dad had shot at him. My father was dead, and Jake was telling all these lies...” She exhaled quietly. “It would have been hard enough, finding Dad’s body like that, but that Jake was telling that horrible lie... We proved him wrong, of course. But the memory of finding my father like that? That’s the image that stays with me. It’s a hard memory.”
He nodded. He hadn’t seen his father’s body in person, and for that he was grateful. “Dad’s body had been removed before I got here. But his old boss, that Cresswell piece of shit, he showed me the photo.”
Her expression turned murderous. “Motherfucker,” she hissed.
Gabe shrugged. “He said it was an accident. Said, ‘Oops.’ ”
Her eyes narrowed. “I hope he was involved. I want to take him down myself.”
He believed she would, and that gave him comfort. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “These go to Dad’s truck.”
“Then let’s have a look.”
A few minutes later, after stowing the papers in a lockbox in her truck, the two of them were searching his father’s Ford with flashlights while Burke stood guard.
The bed of his father’s truck was completely clean—except for a single, empty jug of bleach. Gabe leaned over the tailgate to retrieve it. “It’s not his brand. Dad used Clorox, because that’s what Mom always swore by. This is a store brand.”
Burke took it from him. “We’ll check it out.”
Gabe frowned at the jug, new dread piling atop the old because he knew what criminals used bleach for—to get rid of blood. “Why would my dad have bleach in his truck? He has a washer and dryer in his house and there’s a full jug of bleach in his laundry room.”
“We’ll do our damnedest to find out,” Burke assured him.
Shoving back the dread, Gabe opened the front passenger door. “We can come back tomorrow when it’s daylight,” he offered, shining his light into the glove box.
Molly had already checked the back seat and was checking the middle console up front. “If the sheriff’s office doesn’t take the truck in for an in-depth search,” she replied. She made a face when she found the round can of Skoal. “Your dad chewed?”
“Yeah,” Gabe said resignedly as he searched through ten years of old car registrations. “My mother hated it, but she loved him and didn’t nag him too much. I didn’t nag him at all. It was his only remaining vice after he quit drinking. Now I’m wishing I had nagged him. His cancer was in his esophagus.”
Her gasp had him looking up in surprise. She’d known where the cancer was. It was in his father’s autopsy report.
But she wasn’t looking at him. She was staring under the floor mat she’d just pulled up. “Burke?”
“What did you find?” Burke asked, standing behind her, his gaze locked on their surroundings.
“Buried treasure.” She straightened enough to show Gabe what she’d found. A tiny little square chip, razor-thin, was pinched between her gloved index finger and thumb.
