Page 4 of Little Stolen Memories

“Trauma has a way of playing tricks on our minds. I bet a lot of what you remember has at least some basis in the truth.”

“Before I get into it, I guess I should make sure you’re willing to take the case.”

I was willing all right, and I couldn’t wait to dive in.

“Of course I’ll take your case,” I said.

Cora breathed out a sigh of relief and said, “Good. Your aunt says you’re the best. She said you’ve solved every case you’ve ever had, even cases the police couldn’t solve.”

I remained still for a minute, trying to decide how to respond to her comment. At the time of the murders, my stepdad, Harvey, was one of the detectives who’d worked on the case. I remembered him discussing the case with me. Not being able to solve it before he retired had been one of his biggest regrets.

“Cold cases offer their own set of challenges,” I said. “But I, for one, love a challenge.”

“I’m glad to hear it. What information do you need from me?”

I thought about the best way to get her to talk about the events from that night. “You said you have fuzzy memories. Let’s try and piece them all together like you’re telling it to me in a story form.”

She nodded, and it looked like she was about to speak. Then she clasped a hand to her throat and said, “Sorry. My throat … it’s a little dry.”

I hopped up and walked over to the kitchenette, scouring the top shelf of the refrigerator for options. “We have water, soda, kombucha. What suits you?”

“Water is fine.”

I grabbed her a bottle of water and a kombucha for myself, and I returned to my desk, handing her the water as I sat down. She twisted the cap off, drank half of it down, and then set the bottle on top of the desk.

“It was supposed to be the best weekend of our lives, you know?” she said. “I’d been psyching myself up to tell Owen about my feelings for him. We’d lived next door to each other since we were kids. I’d always considered him a friend until our senior year of high school.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know. Comments from my friends, I guess. They teased me, saying they thought we had a thing for each other and wouldn’t admit it to ourselves. And then one day, I realized they were right.”

“Did you get the chance to tell him before … what happened?”

“I didn’t. After his funeral, his sister reached out to me. She told me Owen told her he wanted to ask me out on a date. It’s too bad we never got a chance to see if we could have been more than friends. It took me a long time to admit to myself that I had feelings for him, and when I did, he was just … taken from me in the worst possible way. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“It isn’t,” I said. “I know about your case. I seem to recall there were six of you at the cabin that night.”

“Yeah, and I was the only survivor. It feels awful, you know, that they died, and here I am, still living.”

“Your survival touched everyone in this town. When people found out you were alive, it was like a bright light shining through the darkness.”

“I’ve always worried the man who attacked me would come back for me one day. I’ve spent the last two decades looking over my shoulder, and I’m tired of it. I’m so tired. It isn’t any way to live.”

“No, it isn’t,” I said. “I’ll find the bastard, and together, we’ll make sure he pays for what he did.”

CHAPTER 3

My quip about how I’d “find the bastard” went over well. Cora cracked a slight smile, and what’s more, she looked at me like she was feeling something she hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

“I’ll tell you everything I can remember about the night at the cabin,” she said, “As long as you understand I can’t always separate fact from fiction.”

“No problem. Leave what’s fact and what’s fiction to me.”

“All right. Where do you want me to start?”

“From the beginning, the moment the six of you arrived at the cabin.”

Cora crossed one leg over the other, closing her eyes a moment, thinking. “We were so happy that day. Happy to be together. Happy we’d fooled our parents into thinking we were at the beach and not at my grandmother’s cabin. It seemed like a perfect start to a perfect weekend.”

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