Page 142 of Trouble Comes in Threes

“We could,” I agreed. “Or we could just let it go. It might be too painful for Jason to get the letters and ring.”

“Or maybe she’s his long-lost love, and he would like to have a last piece of her.”

I set a plate into the dishwasher. “Let’s think about it. But I think this proves whoever broke into the office wasn’t looking for the box. I mean, the person who broke in could have just told us it was theirs, and we would have willingly handed it over.”

Scowling, she mumbled, “Maybe not so willingly, but yeah.”

“When this is all done, we can look up the yearbooks,” I said, hoping to cheer her up. “If we can figure out who Jason is, then we’ll decide where to go from there.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding a little more encouraged. “Deal.”

After we finished the cleanup, we joined Aunt Bessie on the porch. Uncle Albert had pulled his tractor out from behind the barn to give each of the kids a ride, while Witt kept the others corralled.

“Joe gave me a brief run-down of what was going on when he called,” Aunt Bessie said as her knitting needles clacked in the quiet. “But I’d like to hear it from you.”

I shot a glance at Neely Kate. Aunt Bessie had no idea about my Lady in Black history, so I told her that one of our employees had been murdered and our office had been ransacked. Since we had no idea why, Joe had thought it best if we left the county for a few days.

After I finished, she was silent for several seconds before she glanced up from her knitting and looked me in the eye. “I know there’s more you’re not telling me.”

“Actually,” Neely Kate said, “there is.”

I shot her a warning look, but she said, “Rose has been having weird visions.”

Aunt Bessie looked startled. “Weird visions? How so?”

I told her that two of them had been dreams that I’d been unable to reproduce with anyone. And I also mentioned I’d been completely alone when I’d had one of them.

“How did Rose’s grandmother’s visions work?” Neely Kate asked.

“Much like Rose’s. She had to be with the person in the vision, but…” She paused her knitting and set it in her lap as she turned to face me. “There was one person she didn’t have to be with to have a vison of.”

Neely Kate leaned forward, her eyes bright with excitement. “Who?”

A troubled look crossed my aunt’s face. “Her sister.”

I shook my head. “Violet’s dead, and I never had a vision of her when she was alive. At least, not one when I wasn’t close to her.”

“It was a rare thing, and it only happened twice.” She paused and held my gaze. “Both times were when her sister was in danger.”

Neely Kate gasped. “Oh my stars and garters! The woman in Rose’s visions looked like her!”

Aunt Bessie’s eyebrows rose.

“But I don’t have another sister,” I protested. “Or, at least, not a living one.”

Neely Kate ignored me, focusing on my aunt. “Rose had a sketch made.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and swiped on the screen. “Look. It’s obvious it’s not her, but it definitively looks like her.” She got out of her chair and reached over to hand the phone to my aunt.

Aunt Bessie took it and stared at the screen. “Rose, how old would you say this woman was?”

My heart sped up. “Do I have a cousin somewhere I don’t know about?”

“She looks to be about twenty-five or twenty-six,” Aunt Bessie murmured, studying the phone screen and then glancing up at me. “Does that sound about right?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I suppose.”

“What was her name?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. The woman I had the vision of was called Selena, and neither she nor the man called the murdered woman by name.” Aunt Bessie’s gaze dropped to the phone again.

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