Page 61 of Little Stolen Memories

I could think of a reason why.

It made the loss of their son more bearable. For some people, pretending a loved one never existed was a lot easier than living with the pain that came with knowing they had no choice but to live the rest of their lives without their beloved.

“What did Aidan’s parents say about him?” I asked.

“Not much. They visit his grave once a year on his birthday. Oh, and at Thanksgiving dinner, they go around the table and honor his life with a memory, something they remember about him. Other than those two days, they prefer not to discuss him at all.”

Pretending they were fine didn’t mean they were. Without processing their son’s death, they never would heal—not to the fullest extent.

“What do they think about the case being investigated again?” I asked.

“They were ambivalent and didn’t seem to care either way. They wished us luck on solving the case, but they believe the killer wasn’t caught then and he won’t be caught now.”

And then there was one.

“We’ve got your visits with Aidan and Owen’s parents out of the way,” I said. “Let’s talk about Jackson.”

“Ahh, Jackson,” Simone said. “My visit with his mother and stepfather was interesting, if not surprising. I’ll start by saying this … you saved the best for last.”

CHAPTER 26

“I learned a few more interesting details about Jackson last night when I spoke to Cora,” I said. “It sounds like he had a troubled home life.”

“We know about how he treated Xander,” Hunter said. “Is there something else?”

“He cheated on his final biology exam.”

Hunter snickered a laugh. “A lot of kids cheat on exams.”

“The circumstances surrounding this instance are a bit more complicated. Jackson cheated because if he didn’t pass the exam with a good enough grade, his stepfather threatened to withhold the college money his mother had set aside for him.”

I shared the story Cora had told me, including the fallout afterward.

“If Jackson’s mother set aside money for his education, it should have been up to her whether or not Jackson was given the money,” Hunter said. “Why did the stepdad get involved?”

“Trust me,” Simone said. “You’d know if you met him. The stepdad’s a real piece of work.”

“Tell us about your visit with him,” I said.

Simone raised a finger. “I will, but first, I need coffee. Anyone else?”

“I … ahh, I need to get going,” Hunter said. “My sister’s in town. We’re meeting for lunch. I’ll be back later. In the meantime, text me if you need me to do anything for you, Georgiana, okay?”

“There is one thing. Look into Jackson’s stepdad. See what you can find out about him.”

“Will do.”

Simone headed to the kitchen to try out the fancy Breville coffeemaker I’d just purchased for the office. She had a habit of stopping for coffee on her way into the office each morning, which almost always made her late on the days when I scheduled a meeting between us. In a way, buying a machine for the office was serving my own agenda, but it also came with its perks.

Simone and I reconvened on the sectional sofa a few minutes later, fresh-brewed coffees in hand.

“Jackson’s stepfather, Ray, had nothing nice to say about him,” Simone said. “The way he talked about Jackson was almost like he was glad Jackson was dead.”

“And his mother?” I asked. “What did she have to say?”

“Her name is Valerie. She was quiet, didn’t say much of anything the entire time I was there. Ray did most of the talking.”

“Tell me about your conversation.”

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