Page 15 of Little Stolen Memories

“Harder than either one of us can imagine.”

Aunt Laura was right.

No one would ever understand what Cora had gone through, what she was still going through.

“The question you should be asking yourself, kiddo, is what motivated her to meet with you this morning. Couldn’t have been easy. And yet, she went outside of her comfort zone and pushed herself to do it.”

I paused a moment, thinking back to my conversation with Cora. The more I thought about it, the more things were starting to make sense.

“Whitlock and Harvey conducted the initial investigation,” I said. “And neither were able to solve it. I’m guessing Whitlock came over, excited to let her family know he was looking into the case again. But what faith would she have that things would be any different this time? In fact, she just told me those same words.”

Aunt Laura moved a hand to her hip. “She’d have little faith, wouldn’t you say?”

“If anything, I bet she’s nervous about what will happen now that he’s stirring it all back up again.”

“I should say so. Think about it. She returned home to spend time with her father, and the first thing that happened when she arrived was her mother sitting her down to tell her Whitlock had reopened the case.”

I thought about how I’d feel if I was in her position.

Cora deserved better, most of all from me.

“I imagine Cora’s wondering if the killer is still lurking around here. She’s probably asking herself how he will respond to the news that the case has been reopened. And what’s more, what if he discovers she’s returned to town after all these years to look after her ailing father? Will he come after her?”

Aunt Laura smiled, wagging a finger at me. “There she is—there’s my brilliant sleuth of a niece.”

“I was rude to her just now. I feel like a jerk.”

“We all feel like jerks from time to time. It’s human to err and so on. What matters is what you do about it now.” Aunt Laura looped her arm around mine, and we started for the front door. “No use fretting over what’s already passed. Come along, and all will be made right.”

CHAPTER 9

While Aunt Laura chatted with Cora’s mother in the living room, I excused myself and found Cora standing in the kitchen, rinsing off a few dishes in the sink. She glanced over her shoulder at me, turned the faucet off, and dried her hands on a tea towel.

“I was hoping we could talk,” I said.

She shrugged but said nothing.

“I’m sorry, Cora,” I said. “I should have taken the time to look at things from your perspective, and I didn’t. When I left the police station, I suppose I felt a bit humiliated because they knew something I didn’t, and it bothered me. Still, I shouldn’t have let it get to me the way I did. It was wrong.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Cora said. “I should have been honest with you. It’s all right.”

“No, it isn’t. Working with you on this case isn’t just about me being able to trust you, it’s about you being able to trust me, and you can trust me. You can trust me with anything.”

Cora leaned against the counter and said, “I know. Your aunt’s told me a lot about you since I’ve been back in town. I knew coming to you was the right decision.”

“Good. I’d like to begin again if that’s okay.”

“In that spirit, I have something for you. It took a fair amount of searching, but I found a key to the cabin. Follow me.”

We walked down the hallway and into a bedroom. Looking around, it was like I’d just stepped into a time warp. The walls were painted two different shades of purple, a sharp contrast to the bright orange and hot-pink striped comforter on the bed. The darker of the two walls was plastered with photos torn out of magazines of popular actors and singers from the early 2000s—David Boreanaz, Luke Perry, and Francis Capra. On the opposite wall was a large Gilmore Girls poster.

Cora shot me a shy smile. “I know. It’s like a time warp. Aside from boxing up a few of my things, my parents didn’t change much in this room after I left town.”

“Where did you go, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I have an uncle who lives in Spain. He has a casita he rents out sometimes, and he invited me to stay with his family for as long as I needed. I took him up on his offer and studied abroad for a while. One year turned into two, which turned into several years—the best years of my life. I suppose they were the best because over there, I felt far enough from this place to feel safe.”

“What made you decide to return?”

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