Page 70 of Little Stolen Memories

“What’s that?” Harvey asked.

“He made a comment while I was there, and it’s been bugging me.”

“Well … go on,” my mother said. “What did he say?”

“Ty’s father took his own life a week after the incident.”

“Drug overdose, as I recall,” Harvey said.

“You’re right. Ty told me his father stopped speaking to him after he learned about what Ty had done with his test questions. Did either of you know?”

Whitlock looked at Harvey. “I didn’t. Did you?”

“Sure didn’t,” Harvey said. “Puts a new perspective on things, doesn’t it?”

It did.

“Ty gave the test to Jackson, trusting him not to show it to anyone else. Not only did Jackson show it to the same group of friends who were murdered at the cabin, Ty’s father died before Ty had a chance to smooth things over with him.”

“Must have done a number on the kid,” Whitlock said.

My mother aimed her fork in my direction, saying, “I don’t know about you three, but I don’t see it. Sure, the kid’s father was angry. He didn’t speak to his son, and then he took his own life, leaving his kid reeling about the choices he’d made. This is life. Family stops speaking to each other sometimes. It doesn’t mean they go out and commit a bunch of murders.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Darlene,” Whitlock said. “He may have wanted revenge, and revenge is just as good of a motive as any.”

“Seems like a lot of phooey to me,” my mother said. “The tree you’re barking up, Georgiana. I’m sorry to say, I’m not so sure it’s the right one.”

Whitlock and Harvey went quiet, eyeing me as if waiting to see how I’d respond to the unsolicited advice I’d been given.

But I was fine with it.

She was just trying to help.

She also didn’t know the first thing about criminals and how they operated.

Perhaps it was better to take the high road, to make her feel like she was part of the investigation, to make her feel seen, heard, and validated. She may have said she wanted to be involved with the case to keep an eye on Harvey, but I didn’t believe it was the only reason. I’m sure it made her feel closer to me and the air in which I lived and breathed. It was a world she’d never been part of—a world I was sure she wanted to understand.

“I’m not sure who’s to blame for the murders yet, but I’m working hard at it,” I said.

And I was getting closer.

I could feel it.

I could also feel something else. No matter who I talked to, almost all roads seemed to lead back to the same person—Jackson.

CHAPTER 29

I was relieved to be home after such a long day—a day that had left me with more questions than answers. I was sitting on the balcony, processing it all as I watched the moonlight flicker across the ocean’s surface. It was calm and serene, the perfect way for me to relax beneath the warmth of my fluffy pink blanket.

Giovanni finished up in the kitchen and joined me, topping up my glass of pinot noir. Then he slid into the chair next to mine.

“You’ve been quieter than usual this evening,” he said. “Do you want to tell me about your day?”

“I think I’d rather give it a rest tonight,” I said. “My mind’s filled with questions I don’t have answers to yet, and I’m tired of thinking about the investigation.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can talk to me about anything other than the case I’m investigating.”

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