Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Maybe there were more from that original batch. Maybe the others told a different story.”
Her eyes widened briefly. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he said. The last thing he wanted to do was give her hope that things had been different than the trial made them out to be. Because, truthfully, any other potential photos might tell a story that was worse than the one that had been told, not better.
He thought her mind had traveled along a similar path by the worried frown on her face. “My mother’s books,” she said.
“Her books? From that box?”
She nodded. “Now that I think about it, it’s sort of weird that they’re in there. I’d put my mom’s favorite books on my bookshelf after she died.” She scratched her head. “I can’t remember if they were missing from my bookshelf when I packed up the house, but . . . that whole period is blurry. But if they had been on my shelf, they would have been packed up with my other belongings, and I’d have taken them to South Carolina. Instead, they were in a box with my father’s things. Including the organizer he’d been using until the day he died.”
“What would he have been doing with your mother’s books in the days before his death?”
“I don’t know. But I think we should go back to my room and go through them more thoroughly.” Despite the certainty in her eyes, he also saw the fear. Since last night, so much of what she thought she’d known had been set ablaze. And they were about to walk farther into the fire.
They’d come out of a burning inferno once before, however, and they could do it again. He knew they could.
He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckle. “Together,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Evan watched as Noelle tore open the tape on the box that she’d already secured in preparation for shipping and then unfolded the flaps. He saw her swallow as she lifted the things from the top, setting them aside. Her father’s things. Her mother’s books were at the bottom of the box, and she took them out, laying all six of them on the bed and sitting down.
Evan followed suit, picking up the copy of Little Women and thumbing through it. He held the front and back of the hardcover and tipped it before he gave it a small shake in case something fell out from between the pages that he’d missed. Nothing.
He picked up the second book near his thigh, beginning to do the same when Noelle pulled in a breath. He looked up, and she turned the book in her hands toward him. The inside was cut out to form a small hidden compartment.
“Oh shit,” he said, dropping the book in his hands. “What’s in it?”
Noelle, wide eyed, laid the book on the bed and took the piece of paper out that was on top, unfolding it. Evan saw that her hands were shaking.
Her eyes moved over the paper, and she looked up at him, her expression set in confusion. “It’s a travel itinerary,” she said. “To Hawaii.”
“Hawaii?”
She nodded, reading over the paper again and then handing it to Evan. He took it and skimmed it, confirming that it was travel plans. It looked like her mother had been planning a trip to Hawaii.
“It was my dad’s dream to go there,” she said distractedly.
“Was your mom planning a trip for them?”
“I mean . . . it was about to be their anniversary. But . . . Evan, if she was having an affair, why plan a romantic trip to the place my dad had always dreamed of going?”
He had no answer for that. “What else is in there?”
Noelle had been staring off behind him for a second, obviously attempting to work out that puzzle. At his question, she gave her head a small shake and then removed a folded envelope from the small compartment and unfolded it. She pulled out a short stack of photos. “Oh my God,” she breathed, dropping them like they’d burned her skin.
Evan picked one up, bringing it closer to his face. His own hand was shaking too. That was definitely his home theater, the way it had looked many years ago, when he was a teenager. Before and after Noelle’s mother was shot. Bile moved up his throat at what became clear. He wanted to shut his eyes, to throw away the horrific evidence of what had been caught on film.
The photo was from behind the couch, near the doorway, he estimated. A man could be seen sitting in front of the screen, his hand on his genitals. A small portion of the screen showed in the upper corner. The edge of a cage and what looked like something unidentifiably bloody behind the bars. “Oh Jesus,” he gasped, dropping the photo as well.