Page 35 of The Last Close Call

“And packing.”

She led him down a hallway lined with more boxes and stopped beside a room where Lady Gaga crooned from a portable radio. The floor was covered in plastic sheeting, and swaths of pale gray covered the bubble gum–pink walls that Bryan remembered from last time.

“My Realtor suggested neutrals,” she said, bending down to switch off the radio. “Not everyone wants a princess castle mural in their bedroom, apparently. Excuse me.”

He moved out of the doorway, and she scooted past him. “Come on back. It’s in here.”

She led him into the primary bedroom, where a pile of furniture had been shoved into the center and draped with drop cloths. More cardboard boxes lined the wall beneath the large window covered in plantation shutters.

The same window, according to Jack, where Evelyn’s attacker had watched her from the cover of a mulberry bush prior to the crime. Shoe impressions—Adidas sneakers, size twelve—had been discovered on the ground beneath the windowsill.

“I would have called sooner, but I didn’t realize it until just last night.” She glanced over her shoulder as she stepped into a walk-in closet and switched on a light.

Bryan stopped beside the doorway, not wanting to crowd her.

“And what exactly was it you realized?” Bryan asked, wishing Liz had given him more detail. All she’d said on her voicemail was that he needed to stop by Evelyn Wood’s residence to take a statement about something she had suddenly remembered about her attack.

“Sorry.” Evelyn turned and hung a plastic-covered batch of dry cleaning on a hook on the wall. “It’s tight in here. What was that?”

He cleared his throat. “What was it you realized? Detective Lasco was a little vague.”

“Oh. Well, it’s weird.” She turned and sighed, folding her arms over her chest. She wore a loose T-shirt beneath the overalls, and the red welts he had observed on her neck the night of her assault had long since healed. “So, when Liz interviewed me the first time, she said not to be surprised if things came back to me in waves. She said it happens sometimes.”

Bryan remembered that Liz always told victims to call her by her first name. She said she liked to keep their conversation as relaxed as possible, so they’d feel more comfortable recounting things that were hard to talk about.

“I understand,” Bryan said, still not really understanding at all.

“So, I was in here packing.” She gestured to a pile of sweaters on the floor beside an unzipped duffel bag. “And I came across my jewelry box. I suddenly remembered my silver locket was missing.”

Bryan nodded.

“I thought my husband took it.”

“Your husband?”

“Ex-husband, as of next week. Sorry.” She gazed down at the floor, which was blanketed with shoes and piles of clothing. “I’m not making any sense, am I?” She looked up at him, and her green eyes welled with tears. “Sorry.” She put her hand over her mouth.

“It’s fine. Take your time.”

She looked at her feet again and took a deep breath. “The week before it happened, I noticed my locket was missing. It’s a silver locket that my ex-husband gave me for Mother’s Day. It has my daughter’s picture in it.”

Bryan felt a knot in his gut as he started to see where this was going.

“This would be the week of November twelfth,” he stated.

“Yeah, sometime in there. Anyway, it’s my favorite piece of jewelry, and I thought Drew had taken it just, you know, to be vindictive because we were in a dispute about money. We were working with a mediator at the time, and things were getting pretty contentious.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I noticed it missing. I mentioned it to my sister that very night, the night of the attack. And then later, with everything, I totally forgot about it. Then yesterday I was in here packing, and I saw my jewelry box, and it suddenly hit me. So I called Drew, and he swears he didn’t take it.” She turned to Bryan. “And I believe him.”

Bryan stared at her. “You’re suggesting—”

“Drew didn’t take it. He swears. And he can be a real jerk sometimes, but I believe him about this.” She paused. “I think he was in here.” She stepped aside and motioned to a shelf.

Bryan studied the shelf, which was about her shoulder height. Beside a line of perfume bottles was a white heart-shaped box.

“That’s your jewelry box?” he asked.

“Yes. I don’t keep much in there anymore, but I always put my locket in it.”

“Mind if I...?”

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