Page 11 of My Heart to Find

Rufus clearly couldn’t care less, and he doesn’t seem to be enjoying this walk—not in the way that other dogs I’ve walked before do. Hmm. Maybe he really did see something out here when Marnie disappeared. Or maybe he’s not enjoying it because he’s a bit overweight and not used to exercise. I mean, if he had seen something, he’d be anxious being back here, right?

*

“HERE YOU GO, MY PRECIOUSboy,” Mrs. East practically whimpers as she has me pick Rufus up and place him on his seat at the table. His chair has a red, velvet cushion on.

Rufus eyes the plate of food—yep, a full roast chicken dinner, with way too much fat on the meat—on the table in front of him and licks his lips.

“Your money’s on the counter,” Mrs. East tells me without looking at me. “You can see yourself out.”

My stomach rumbles at the aromas of the food as I collect the two notes and leave.

Walking back to my new place—I still can’t bring myself to call it ‘home’ yet—I check my phone for messages from any more prospective clients, or, by some miracle, Cara. There are none from either.

Cody does his silent I’m-going-to-pretend-you’re-not-here act when I let myself back into the apartment, so I decide to do my own I’ll-ignore-you-too routine. It’s remarkably easy. I make a quick cup of tea, grab a couple of chocolate cookies, and head to my room. My box of crime books is on the floor, ready to be unpacked. I put my cup of tea on the windowsill, balance one of the cookies on the mug’s rim, and pop the other in my mouth.

Then I set about unpacking my books.

This book collection is arguably something I’m most proud of. Dad called me pathetic once, for being so into reading, when he was angry one time that I didn’t want to go to the park or play outside like the ‘normal’ kids. But taking out these important books makes me smile, makes me think it’s a rebellious act against him. And, good. He’s the reason Mum went bankrupt.

Mum had this amazing flower-arranging business that she’d built from scratch. Dad had a gambling problem. He spent all their life savings and then remortgaged Mum’s shop without telling her, forging her signature. I’m not quite sure what happened after that—no one really told me or my brother—but two months later, we had to sell our house and the shop and move to a shoddy apartment. All of us. I still think Mum should’ve left Dad behind.

This box of books was the only thing I could take, and I carefully remove the volumes now and spread them out on my bed.

My phone buzzes. I pull it from my pocket.

It’s an unknown number. A new client?

I click onto the text.

Hi, it’s Cara. Do you want to meet tomorrow? I can show you some good walks.

My eyes widen. Cara. She’s interested? That’s what this has to mean, right?

A grin breaks across my face.

She’sinterested.

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