Page 23 of Ambush

“Why would you want to do that? There are graphic crime scene photos, girl. Leave it to the professionals.”

“The killer is still out there. The professionals haven’t made any headway. Maybe I’ll remember something.”

“You were nine years old, and the sheriff had a child psychologist talk to you. You didn’t see anything.”

“Maybe I blocked it out.”

His brows drew together. “You remembering something?”

She hesitated and stared down at the grass. “Not yet, but I’d like to try.”

Rod lifted the smoker lid and began to pull meat from it. “I’ll think about it.”

Blake felt the tension radiating off Paradise, and he led heraway. “Don’t go ballistic and burn any bridges. Hez is trying to acquire the records, and I made that call to my state police friend. I think we’ll get them.” He nodded toward the group of women watching the children play. “You want some company when you talk to your cousin for the first time?”

She shook her head. “I have to face her sometime. Might as well be now.”

“I’ll hang close. Look my way, and I’ll be there in a flash.”

Her grateful smile warmed him, and he watched her walk across the plush grass toward her cousin. There might be fireworks. He sensed Paradise’s impatience to get to the truth, but these things often couldn’t be pushed.

***

Paradise walked on lead feet as she went toward the relatives talking in groups by the kids’ sandbox. The thumping of her heart made her slow to catch her breath. She did not want to be here. Catching up with family who had turned their backs on her wasn’t her idea of a good time. She forced herself forward and heard the animated voices sputter and stop when the women realized she was there.

She focused on Rod’s sister’s face. Molly’s willowy frame looked like she could be blown over by a stiff wind, and her hazel eyes lit when she spotted Paradise. “Paradise Alden, you come here right now. I’ve been dying to see you since Rod said you were in town.”

Paradise allowed herself to be enfolded in a tight embrace. She’d forgotten how kind Molly had always been to her quiet younger cousin. “You haven’t changed a bit, Molly. I think Emily was five when I left. Did you have any more?”

Molly released her. “Four of those hoodlums are mine. Emilyis twenty now, and the others range from eight to fourteen. The youngest will kill me yet.” She pointed out a gangly towheaded boy playing volleyball with the bigger kids on the other side of the house. She linked arms with Paradise. “Come along and say hi to Mom. She’s in the kitchen taking apple dumplings out of the oven.”

Paradise’s chest squeezed, but she allowed her cousin to drag her into the two-story house and away from any help she might expect from Blake. “Nice house.”

“Rod had it built three years ago. Sheila loves it, and if she’s happy, everyone is happy.” The acerbic note in Molly’s voice told of vague disapproval.

Paradise gawked at family pictures lining the entry and sitting on tables as Molly dragged her to the kitchen.

“The kitchen is this way. Mom, Paradise is here,” Molly announced as they crossed from the oak flooring to the kitchen tile.

Paradise pinned a smile to her face. “Hello, Lily.” The years had been kind to her older second cousin, and even in her seventies, Lily had smooth skin and thick and lustrous salt-and-pepper hair that touched her shoulders. “You’re just as pretty as I remember.”

The sincerity in her voice teased a grin from Lily’s stern expression. “I see you never tamed that hair. Your mother never tried either. You could have been a model if she’d straightened the lion’s mane.”

Paradise was thankful Lily made no move to embrace her. Hypocrisy had never been something she liked to indulge. “Those apple dumplings smell great. I remember you made them for Mom for her birthday every year. She loved them.”

Lily’s expression softened even more. “I still miss your mother. We were more like sisters than cousins.”

Paradise’s face felt frozen in place. Lily had rewarded Mom forher kindness by turning her back on her only child. “What do you remember about that night?”

Lily turned briskly toward the oven, and she bent to remove the dumplings. “Let’s remember the good times and not that horrible night.” The pan clanked on the stove as she set it down.

“I can’t do that, Lily. They’ve never received justice, and the longer it’s denied them, the worse it feels. I can’t sweep it under the rug and forget it happened.”

Lily banged the pan on the stovetop. “You don’t even remember anything, Paradise. This is your usual melodrama. Life is too short to stew about things we can’t change. Move on with your life. Get married and have kids. They’ll keep you so busy you’ll forget all about the sad past.”

Tears burned Paradise’s eyes. She should have known her cousin would dismiss her desire to bring justice to her parents. “I can’t do that.” She gulped down the angry words that would get her nowhere. Softening her tone, she took a step closer to Lily. “You were the first person on the scene. What do you remember? Who called you?”

“I don’t like to think about it.”

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