Page 29 of Ghosts From Christmas Past

“Do you need to go with them?” Charlie asked. “I could wait at the station with Stella.”

While part of him wanted to be there, he wasn’t about to leave Charlie alone until Dennis was captured.

He shook his head. “My people and Chief Denning have this under control. You and I will work on a different angle of the case.” As he drove toward Charlie’s house, his doubts concerning Dennis’s guilt wouldn’t let go. Though the man had been stalking Charlie right before the murders, Dylan knew Ronald Dennis. He’d always been a bit strange, but Dylan never got a sense of violence. Still, it wasn’t uncommon for a stalker whose attention was thwarted to turn to violence. Dylan slowed the vehicle, pulled into the drive, and stopped. He could almost feel Charlie’s anxiety growing. He shifted in his seat. “How are you doing?”

Her full attention was on the road ahead, and she leaned forward in her seat as if she were trying to see through the trees.

“Charlie?” He repeated the question, and she slowly turned toward him.

“I’m okay.”

“If you think it will be too difficult, we can call this off.” Because his own fears were rising.

“No, I want to do this.”

He waited another breath or two before putting the cruiser in Drive. The car crept along the snow-covered road until the house appeared in the headlights.

She sucked in an audible breath, her eyes riveted to the place that had once been her home.

Dylan parked in front, climbed out, and went around to her side of the vehicle. Charlie opened the door and got out.

“It looks the same,” she whispered almost to herself.

Dylan couldn’t pull his attention off her. “We kept it up through the years.” Dylan explained about the trust and how he stopped by whenever he could to take care of the place.

She clasped both his hands. “Thank you, Dylan. Thank you for doing that.”

Her gratitude humbled him. “Of course. I’d do anything for you.”

Tears shown in her eyes. As much as he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, there were things that must be done. Together, they climbed the steps. He removed the key from his pocket and opened the door. Dylan went inside and waited for her.

Her eyes were huge pools as she stood on the threshold and stared at the place near the stairs were her father had died. She came into the space and dropped to the floor where Barlow had perished. Tears came quickly. She covered her eyes and cried all the tears she hadn’t been able to before now. Grieved for the two people who had been so important to her.

Dylan knelt beside her and put his arms around her. Without a word, he let her cry. He’d grieved for Barlow and Patricia for many a year. Now it was her turn.

She finally drew in a shuddering breath and pulled away, scrubbing her palms across her eyes. “He was a good man and I miss him.”

Dylan agreed. Barlow had been the pastor of the church he and his family attended. His father-in-law, although Barlow had no idea of the binds that tied them together. He rose and helped Charlie to her feet.

Her attention traveled to the living room. She slowly moved toward the place where her mother’s body was found. “She was running to get to me. She was trying to protect me.”

“You remembered something?” So far, most of her memories had centered around the time before the murders. She’d recalled the killer wore gloves but little else.

She frowned. “She said, ‘run, Charlie.’ Only I didn’t. I couldn’t. He was right on top of her. Stabbing her.” Her voice broke into a sob.

“Can you see his face?” Dylan asked. Prayed she could identify the killer.

She closed her eyes. Tried so hard, but slowly shook her head and looked at him. “I can’t. Why can’t I see his face?”

He understood she was discouraged, but it was only a matter of time. “You will. Don’t give up. You will remember.”

She moved deeper into the room and stood even with the table where the Bible had fallen to the floor. Another step and she stood over the spot where Dylan had found her. Charlie looked down. “This is it.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Charlie stood frozen in place unable to look away. She closed her eyes again, a frown wrinkling her forehead as she tried to summon the image of the person once more. “I can’t. I can’t see him.” She opened her eyes, her frustration evident.

Dylan felt his own hopes evaporate. He’d hoped something here would jog the truth free. What if she never remembered? The thought was unimaginable. He gathered her close and held her. Joined her in the frustration.

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