Page 72 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Dad had not only served as student body president, but he’d also played football and baseball. She saw him in multiple photos, most of them posed. There was one snapshot. He was in a crowd in what looked like a cafeteria. He wasn’t the subject of the photo, just happened to be caught in the background. He was smiling at…

Jane Kincaid.

Her mother wasn’t facing the camera either. She was seated at another table, looking off camera. Her father would have had a side view of her. Jane seemed to have no idea Dad was looking her way.

Aspen studied the two faces. Dad’s focus on Jane. Jane’s focus elsewhere.

But Brent had said Aspen’s mother had a thing for him, not the other way around. So maybe Jane did know he was looking. Maybe she was pretending not to care.

Or maybe Aspen was reading way too much into a random snapshot.

She turned the page.

Though Dad was pictured in more of the organized pictures, Mom was pictured in more of the snapshots. In fact, Aspen counted no fewer than ten pictures of Jane in the thin yearbook. She was involved in zero clubs, but she seemed to know everybody.

Considering she’d only gone to the school for one year, that was impressive.

In more than one place, her mother was pictured with the same blond woman. Since the snapshots were not captioned with names, she searched the senior portraits to see if she could find the girl.

And there she was. Deborah Davis.

Aspen was just about to message Garrett—he’d probably get it, since he was connected to her Wi-Fi at the house—when a woman tapped Aspen on the shoulder.

She turned to find a much older version of that face smiling down at her. “Lana said you were looking for…” Her voice trailed, and she bent nearer to the yearbook. “What a funny coincidence. That’s me.”

“You’re Deborah Davis?”

The woman straightened and gave Aspen her full attention. Then she blinked. “Oh, my gosh. You look just like your mother.”

“She was your friend,” Aspen guessed.

Deborah Davis held a pile of books in her arms. “She was my very best friend.”

Aspen said, “Will you sit with me for a moment?”

Deborah set the books—oh, they were yearbooks from Plymouth State—on the table and slid into a chair. She could hardly keep her eyes off Aspen’s face. “It’s like seeing into the past.” She reached out as if she might touch Aspen’s cheek, then dropped her hand. “I’m sorry.” Tears filled the older woman’s eyes, and she shook her head. “Forgive me.” She swiped themaway with the back of her hand. “I’m a little off today. I just went with my husband to the doctor, and I’m still reeling from…”

“Everything okay?”

“It’s his heart. But they say we can manage it with medication.”

“Still scary, though.”

Deborah sat back and took a deep breath. “Listen to me telling you our secrets as if you were your mother. Seeing you has definitely thrown me.”

“Did you know I was in town?”

“Of course. Everybody knows you’re in town.” She patted Aspen’s hand. “And here you are, looking at old photos of your mom. Is that why you wanted those?” She gestured to the college yearbooks. “Lana told me what year you wanted for Coventry High, so I guessed you’d want the next few for Plymouth.”

“You guessed right. But honestly, Miss Davis?—”

“Foley now. Missus. But you can call me Deborah.”

“Deborah, I was trying to find old friends of my mother. I’ve heard so many”—she grasped for a word and settled on—“unpleasant things about her. I wanted to find somebody who knew her as a friend. I mean, I know she did a terrible thing, but…” Aspen wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. She wasn’t sure how to ask the woman what she wanted to know.

“Your mother wasn’t always who she became at the end. In high school, she was perfectly normal. Perfectlysane.She was vivacious. She had a big personality. She wasn’t in school two days before everybody knew who she was. She was pretty, like you.” Deborah studied Aspen a moment, then said, “Honestly, you’re prettier than she was. I mean, you look like her, but her nose was a little longer, her face a little rounder. You have all her best qualities, and your father’s too.”

“That’s very kind.”

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