Page 26 of Ghosts From Christmas Past

Charlie prayed the answers would be unlocked soon. Her parents had waited eight years for justice, and she wanted to catch the person and find a way to forgive him so that she could have the chance to move forward with her life. With Dylan? She knew he loved her, but had too many things happened to keep them apart?

Please God, no.

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“As promised—coffee.” Dylan came into the room where Charlie sat on the sofa staring into space. He handed her the mug. “How are you holding up?”

She smiled. “I’m okay. Thanks for this.” She sipped the coffee.

“You’re welcome.” He sat beside her and glanced out at the new day dawning.

Charlie leaned her head back against the sofa. The yearbook opened to Ronald Dennis’s photo was in her lap.

“Did you get a feel off him?” Dylan asked.

Her weary face turned toward him with raised brows.

“Dennis? Did seeing his picture bring out any memories?”

Charlie’s attention dropped to the yearbook photo. “I’m not sure. I remember how he used to follow me around. He seemed to show up wherever I was. It was creepy.”

Dylan recalled that period too well. Dennis was always around. Not so much talking to Charlie as he was lurking. Staring at her. Her parents had reported him to the principal first. And when that didn’t seem to work, they’d gone to Sheriff Lewis.

The sheriff had spoken to Dennis’s parents. And to Ronald. And then a few days later, Charlie’s parents were dead.

She shook her head. “It’s like what happened that day is just too horrible to remember.”

Dylan closed the yearbook and tugged her close. “The memories will come,” he assured her and hoped his words proved true.

She leaned her head against his shoulder without saying a word.

He wanted all of this to be over for her. Eight years had been ripped away from Charlie. Her parent had been ripped away. Charlie deserved nothing but happiness from this point forward.

Sam poked his head into the room. “I just picked up Holler Reilly. He came along peacefully. I’ve got him in the interview room.”

Dylan was anxious to speak with the man who had worked for Barlow shortly before his death, but he didn’t want to leave Charlie when she was feeling this vulnerable. “I’ll be right there,” he said.

Once they were alone, Charlie pulled away and turned to him. “This is the man who worked for my father?”

Dylan nodded. “We have his prints everywhere around the property except for the house. But you said the killer wore gloves, and the lack of prints in the house confirmed this.”

She stared into space for a second. “That’s right, he did.” But she sounded doubtful.

Dylan kissed her cheek and rose. “I’m going to speak with him. Stay here and try not to worry. We’re getting closer, Charlie. I feel it.”

A sad smile touched her face, and she clung to his hand as if she didn’t want him to leave.

She slowly released her hold, and he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you soon.” He stepped from the office with a weird mixture of happiness and doubt running rabid through his mind. She didn’t want him to go, and yet they weren’t back to where they were all those years ago.

Outside the interview room, Dylan paused long enough to take a couple of breaths, bracing for what lay ahead when he confronted Holler Reilly. Would he be confronting the Swensons’ killer? His sweaty hands twisted the knob and stepped inside.

Sam stood near the door. Dylan acknowledged his deputy before he turned his attention to Holler Reilly. He’d only seen mugshots of the man and those were fifteen years old. Reilly had no driver’s license.

Reilly stared up at Dylan and winced, as if he thought he might beat him.

“Mr. Reilly, I appreciate you agreeing to come in for questioning.”

“You’re welcome, Sheriff. But I would like to know what this is about.” Reilly didn’t appear nervous, but he’d once done a stint for manslaughter. Chances were he was good at hiding his emotions.

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