Page 32 of Trouble Comes in Threes

Neely Kate was far more driven to find the owner than Jill Thatcher, but I didn’t see the point in correcting her.

“So you’re here to see if it belongs to me?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes. We’ve talked to the people who owned the house after you, and none of them know anything about it. We’ve been working backward, and you were next on the list.”

Miss Adolpha glanced down at her lap, and after a few seconds, she gazed up. “So you found a box, and you’re trying to discover who buried it.”

“That’s right,” I said softly.

“I didn’t bury a box, and I know George wouldn’t have. He was much too practical for something like that.”

“What about your kids?” Neely Kate asked.

“How big is the box?”

“A foot long and six inches tall.” I held up my hands to show the approximate size as I spoke.

“I’m presuming it’s heavy,” she said.

“Somewhat.”

She shook her head. “They were much too young to have done something like that. We moved when I was pregnant with Nate, my fourth child. David would have been about seven, so I don’t see how he could have done it. Not to mention, I didn’t have a fancy box for him or his two sisters to bury.”

“What about a neighbor?” I asked.

She made a face. “It would seem odd for someone else to bury a box in our yard.”

“It was on the side of the yard,” Neely Kate said. “Between your old house and the neighbors on the right side when you’re standing at the street, facing the house.”

“The house next door was a rental house for some time, and a lot of people came and went,” Miss Adolpha said. “But I do remember a family living there who had a couple of teenage girls, so I suppose it’s possible.”

“You said you moved when your children were small, but the property records show you still owned the property for several decades,” Neely Kate said.

Miss Adolpha’s gaze focused on the wall, like she was remembering days gone by. “Our family got too big to live there, so we moved to a bigger house and rented it out. We probably rented it for twenty or so years before we sold it.”

“Do you have any idea how many renters you had?”

“I’d say five or six.” She shrugged. “George took care of all that, so I don’t remember.”

“Do you happen to have a list of who might have rented from you?” Neely Kate asked.

Miss Adolpha hesitated. “No list. I remember a couple of names, but not all of them.”

“Anything you have would be helpful,” I said.

Her brow furrowed. “Of course, but it might take me a short bit to remember them.” She smiled and tapped her temple with her index finger. “The memory’s not what it used to be.”

“Not a problem,” Neely Kate said.

“I remember the Jacksons and the Kempners,” she said after a moment, then pursed her lips together. “Sue Jackson, and her husband was Ron.” Neely Kate nodded encouragingly as I wrote the names in a note on my phone. “And the Kempners were Billy and his wife Bobbie Jean.” She gave us an apologetic look. “That’s all I can remember, but if those names don’t work out, I can ask my kids about it.”

“This is a great place to start,” Neely Kate said reassuringly.

I started to put down my phone when the familiar tingle of a vision began. I rarely had spontaneous visions these days, so I was taken by surprise when it engulfed me.

I was in a warehouse full of shelves lined with boxes. The light was dim, but I couldn’t tell if it was nighttime or if the space was just poorly lit. Everything was hazy, as if engulfed in fog.

People were shouting. Gunshots rang out. Then I saw a woman lying on her side on the ground; her dark hair spilled around her on the floor. The blood seeping from her body began creating a large pool.

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