Page 55 of Little Shattered Dreams

“I heard the women who work in the spa were convicted of arson.”

“Yeah, they’re a feisty pair, but good people. I don’t condone setting your ex’s house on fire, but I know why they did it. Rebecca had been abused by her husband. When she got up the nerve to leave him, she confessed everything to Kelly, who had no idea it had been going on. In the divorce, Rebecca’s ex was awarded the house, and Kelly couldn’t handle seeing her sister suffer any more than she already had. She decided he needed to pay for what he’d done.”

It was good information, and it resonated. If anyone put a hand on my sister, torching their house would be the least of their concerns.

“What about Abby, the other woman working in guest services? She got in a bar fight, didn’t she?”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Abby’s, uhh, yeah, she can be a lot sometimes. I’ve learned to keep my distance.”

And there it was—the employee rift.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out some lip balm, and in doing so, a small crumpled-up bit of paper fell out, fluttering to the ground. I reached down to pick it up, noticing it was the same type of paper, same size and shape as the one left on my door and in my mother’s pocket. I opened it, hoping to find some words written on the page, but it was blank.

I held it up to her. “What is this?”

She narrowed her eyes, looking at me like she was irritated by my question. I didn’t blame her. It was only after I’d spoken that I realized my tone had been more accusatory than inquisitive. After moving the conversation into a positive, more open direction, I didn’t want to revert back to square one.

I checked myself and tried again. “I’ve seen paper like this since I’ve been here, and I was just wondering where you got it.”

“Why?”

I debated what to say next. If I told her the truth and she spread it around to everyone else, it might cause the type of panic I was trying to avoid. I envisioned everyone at the retreat wanting to hightail it out of here.

“If you know where the paper came from, trust me when I say it’s important that you tell me,” I said. “I wouldn’t ask unless it wasn’t.”

“I found it.”

“Where?”

“On the ground just a few minutes ago. It bothers me when people litter. If I see anything when I’m walking the grounds, I pick it up, pocket it, and throw it in the trash later.”

“Can you show me where you found it?” I asked.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The two of us walked the path back toward the living quarters. About halfway there, she stopped and said, “I think it was somewhere around here. I remember because I had to pick it out of the flower garden.”

I looked where she was pointing and nodded as I realized where we were standing, not more than ten feet away from where my mother had been assaulted.

CHAPTER28

The paper Clara had found,ifshe had “found” it, made me curious as to how it ended up in the flowerbed, when it ended up there, and why. Perhaps it was part of a notepad, and the person responsible for attacking my mother hadn’t realized a piece of it had slipped away.

I shifted my focus to Margie, one of the guests at the retreat. I was curious about the possibility she had worked for Quinn at the flower shop. I walked to her bungalow and knocked. When she answered the door, two suitcases were sitting just inside, all packed and ready to go.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked.

“Yeah, home. I can’t be here anymore. I should have left yesterday.”

She rolled a hair tie off her wrist and pulled her shoulder-length, auburn mane into a loose bun. She’d been sweating, the armpits of her coral, flowy lounge dress stained with large circles, like she’d been rushing around.

“Can we talk for a minute?” I asked.

She moved a hand to her hip. “If it’s quick. I’d like to get out of here.”

“It would be better if you stayed.”

“Better for who? You? The cops? I don’t care. You can’t keep me here.”

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