Page 44 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Maybe she’d had second thoughts about picking Aspen up. Aspen could offer to drive herself, but at this point, that would make it seem as if Aspen didn’t want to ride with her, which wasn’t the case at all and would only make what was suddenly an awkward situation even worse.

Instead, she did her best to keep her own smile in place. “Come on in. I just need to grab the cookies, and?—”

“I’m going to wait in the car.”

Before Aspen could respond, Grace fled to a waiting SUV.

Okay then.

Aspen donned her coat and grabbed the plate of snickerdoodles she’d baked that afternoon. After setting her alarm and locking up, she approached the car, praying all the way. The last thing she wanted was to spend time with people who didn’t want her around. She’d agreed to this evening because these ladies were among the few people in Coventry who didn’t shoot her dirty looks or warn her away. Maybe they’d heard rumors about her mother since church that made them want to avoid her.

Well, if they had, then Aspen would figure out what they’d heard. If she could learn something, then it would be worth it.

Besides, she was in it now.

They’d been driving in silence for five minutes before Grace spoke. “I’m so sorry about that. I thought I could do this without…” Her voice trailed, and she sent Aspen an apologetic look. “I was at your house before. I was caring for a little girl, and there was this man who?—”

“Wait. That was you? With the renter, who was…?”

Grace nodded.

“Oh, Grace. I had no idea. Garrett told me what happened when he showed me the rooms in the basement, but he didn’t mention any names.”

Grace blew out a long breath. “I’m glad you know the story. I really don’t feel like telling it tonight.”

“No, no. Of course not. If I’d known… I should have met you at your condo. I could’ve driven.” The roads were clear again. Weirdly, Aspen hadn’t driven herself anywhere since she’d arrived at the house the previous week. The afternoon before, she’d cleaned snow off her car and parked it in the detached garage. It was a pain that she’d have to trek outside to get to it, but at least it would be protected if it snowed again.

“If you come to the next girls’ night,” Grace said, “you can drive.”

“That’s a deal.”

Tabby and Fitz lived in a newer neighborhood close to town. There were two cars in the driveway and another two on the road. Grace chose a spot on the road.

Tabby greeted them at the door, took the plate of cookies, and led them into a kitchen-dining combo, which opened to the living area. Aspen greeted the women she’d met the day before. Cassidy was the one with the unusual blue eyes and the newborn. Aspen didn’t see the baby, but she’d spied a car seat inside the door and figured the baby was asleep somewhere in the house. Jacqui had red hair—she was the one married to Reid, who’d helped move her furniture. She wasn’t very talkative butpaid close attention to their conversation, as if there might be a test later. Carly had dark brown hair and brown eyes—she might have been at least part Hispanic, but Aspen couldn’t be sure. Apparently, she had a baby she’d left at home with Braden.

It seemed all the boyfriends and husbands went to Carly and Braden’s house every Monday, which was what had prompted the girls’ night.

They were seated at a huge round table, enjoying soup, salad, and sliders, when Carly asked how Aspen’s previous afternoon had gone. Carly had invited her and Garrett to lunch after the service, but thanks to the conversation with Jeff, Aspen had only wanted to get home.

“Did you find anything interesting?”

Aspen had spent the afternoon searching the junk room.

She’d dug through every drawer, glanced at every slip of paper, studied every photograph, and flipped through every book.

Garrett had told her that much of the stuff had come from the attic. One box she unpacked held old dishes wrapped in yellowing newspaper dating back to the sixties.

Long, long before her mother’s disappearance.

She’d found a few envelopes of snapshots all showing the same family. Based on the clothes and hair, they were taken in the late seventies or early eighties.

The boxes held nothing that could help her.

Garrett had piled newer items in one corner, but they must have belonged to the renter. Men’s clothes, razors, some books, and a couple of cheap watches. A lot of his things had been confiscated by the police, Garrett had explained. All the camera equipment and photographs. Thank God those things were gone.

There were more pots and pans and silverware, some plastic containers. Just everyday stuff.

Aspen had found nothing that led to her mother’s whereabouts.

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