Page 37 of Trouble Comes in Threes

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging my shoulders in an exaggerated move. “She hasn’t told me yet.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “You didn’t open it with her?”

“Neely Kate’s the one who’s been eager to see what was inside,” I said. “So I told her to go for it, and I took off early and took the kids for ice cream.”

He studied me for a moment before shifting his focus to his casserole.

After we finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, we played a game of Candyland at the kitchen table. I reveled in this moment of peace, even though Ashley was still too quiet. I tried not to let myself dwell on my vision.

I was still struggling with the fact that I’d seen part of the vision in my nightmare. It didn’t make sense because my visions had never worked that way before. That suggested that perhaps it wasn’t a vision of either Neely Kate or Mrs. Whitlock, which could be a good thing, but it also raised questions. Were my visions changing? If so, what did that mean?

After a couple of rounds of the game, we started on the bedtime routine, splitting our duties. All the kids piled into Ashley’s bed so Joe could read them a story, and even though he’d told me I could have a moment to myself, I sat in a chair in the corner and thanked God once again for giving me this man to be my husband and the father of my children.

When he finished the story, he put Hope and Mikey to bed while I rocked Liam in his room for a few minutes.

After I got him down, I found Joe downstairs in the living room with the remote in his hand. “How about we watch some Netflix?”

I sat down next to him, took the remote from his hand, and placed it on the coffee table. “Or you could tell me the reason you were late.”

He turned sideways on the sofa to face me. “There was a murder down in Pickle Junction.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What happened?”

“There’s still a lot under wraps, but a man was shot.” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you freaked out, Rose? There’ve been murders since…” He paused. “Since everything.”

He was right. There had been murders, but this one felt different, which was crazy, since I didn’t know anything about it.

He was waiting for an answer, so I shrugged and snuggled up next to him. “Things just feel off.”

He wrapped an arm around me. “How so, and does this have anything to do with you deciding to stop trying to find the owner of the box?”

I was close to telling him I’d had a vision, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He’d worry, and obviously, it was a vision, which meant the only thing that could be done was to try to avoid the situation that might have caused it. So the fact I was letting the search for the box’s owner go meant I should be safe.

“I think it had more to do with me wanting time with the kids.” I placed my hand on his chest. “Do you think your investigation is going to interfere with our trip to Little Rock?”

He squeezed my arm. “No. I think we’re still good. We’ve been planning this for months. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

“Thanks, Joe, but I’ll understand if it doesn’t work out.” Wanting to change the subject, I lifted my gaze to his. “How did this morning go with Ashley?”

He let out a sigh. “She wasn’t very open about what was going on, but I assured her that I’m always there for her, and she never has to worry about telling me anything.” He was silent for a moment. “It still kills me that she thought I was going to be mad at her.”

“I know, but I don’t think it had anything to do with you. Not really. She was hesitant to tell me too. I think it was shame holding her back, although I assured her that she had nothing to be ashamed about.”

“I tried to tell her that,” he said, his hand tightening on my arm. “I told her that her father is a good man who made a terrible mistake, and that he loves her and Mikey like crazy.” He paused. “She brought up Violet.”

My heart skipped a beat. I tried to talk about my sister with them as often as felt natural, but Ashley wasn’t always open to it. “And?”

“She said she misses her, and sometimes she gets angry that she died.”

“Oh, poor baby,” I said, my heart breaking. Then I remembered that Jonah was supposed to talk to her after school. “Oh no! I screwed up.”

“How in the world did you screw up?” he asked in disbelief.

“I was about to suggest that we have Jonah talk to her about Violet, but then I remembered she was supposed to talk to him this afternoon. I picked her up before she even checked into afterschool care.”

“You know,” he said softly, “I think ice cream and hanging out with you and the other kids was good for her. She can talk to Jonah tomorrow.”

“Unless I pick them up early again.”

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