Page 65 of New Beginnings
“Trouble that would have the FBI after her,” I said.
“If you know something sweetheart, say something,” Demon said, after a few moments of silence from Kira. “It may have something to do with her death.”
“She dated a guy. He was abusive, and he ended up going missing.”
“Missing as in never to be seen again?” I asked with shock in my voice. “As in dead?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “She wouldn’t tell me anything. Said it was best that I didn’t ask questions. All I know is that he came from money. They questioned her for weeks and then she heard nothing else about it.”
“What was his name?” Rebel asked. “Maybe I can find something on him.”
“I don’t know,” Kira said. “She would never talk about him, and I never met him. I only know that he came from money because of the lavish gifts and trips they’d take. It was just something we never spoke about. Look for her diary. It’ll probably be in there.”
Fuck! I was such a damn idiot. I forgot all about her diaries. She kept every diary she ever had in boxes in the attic. And when she died, I felt weird about reading the last one she had so I just tossed it in one of the boxes with all the others. It didn’t feel right invading her privacy like that. But they could hold all the answers we need.
“Thank you, Kira.”
“I wish I could be more help to you.”
“No, you’ve been a big help. I’ll let you know what I find out. And tell Siobhan, I love her, and I’ll call her later.”
“Will do,” Demon said. “Make sure you keep me in the loop.”
“I will,” I said, then ended the call.
“Did you keep her diaries?” Rebel asked with her eyes wide.
“Every single one. Let’s go.” I stood and reached out my hand to her. “The answers to everything have to be in those books.”
The damn diaries that my wife never missed a day writing in could hold the answers to all this shit. I can’t believe I forgot about them. I can’t believe I might have had the answers all this time.
THIS MIGHT BE IT
Rebel Pierce
“This is the last of’ em.”
He placed another cardboard box filled with Dani’s diaries on the dining room table of his home. I was expecting a quick task, just going through a handful of boxes. Not as much as we were going to have to dig through because none of them were labeled. So, we didn’t know what year they were from.
It took him almost an hour to haul each box from the attic. I offered to help, but he said he needed to be alone while he grabbed them, and I understood. He was taking a big step going through some of her stuff which I believe he hadn’t done before.
“We’re going to be here forever looking through these,” I said pulling a top off one box.
He let out a heavy sigh, sinking into the plush chair beside me. I didn’t think this was something he wanted to do even though he knew it would more than likely give him the answers he needed.
I sat the journal down before I started reading, reached out and squeezed his hand. “Hey, I can do this by myself if you need me too,” I said. “There’s no pressure.”
Regardless of the relationship we had, there wasn’t any doubt in my mind that when J.D. loved someone, he loved hard. He loved Dani with all his heart and if it hadn’t been for her murder, he wouldn’t be here with me right now. He’d be a happily married man with two kids. The picture-perfect family and the life most people dreamed of. But that wasn’t how Fate worked, right? Fate was a bitch and threw curve balls at you just for the hell of it. I should know. I’d been dodging them for a long time especially when it came to love. Rumi always said I had poor taste in men which I couldn’t disagree with. My last ex Johnny was a perfect example of my poor choice in men. But this was the first time in a long time I felt Fate had worked in my favor despite the heartache and havoc she had wreaked in J.D.’s life.
It was weird the emotions churning inside me. It was a battle between being on cloud nine I had met a man who I actually could see things going somewhere with, but it was also a battle to keep from being too happy for myself because his wife and child were dead. It was a tightrope I walked every day when I was with him because without their deaths, we wouldn’t be together, and I wouldn’t be this happy.
It was a tragic event, and it hurt him beyond measure. He had lost his wife and son. It hurt his daughter. Siobhan had lost her mother and brother. However, I didn’t regret the relationship between us. I wanted more to come from it, yet it was hard to celebrate what was happening between us because sometimes I felt guilty for being happy with him.
“No.” He squeezed my hand back then let it go. “I need to do this. It’s going to be hard, but I have to do this for them and for myself.”
Carefully, he removed the lid from the box and picked up a worn journal. It was about an inch thick, and I’d estimate there were at least a hundred of them we had to check for recent information.
He leaned back in the chair, the soft cushion enveloping him as he scanned the first few pages before closing the book and placing it on the table beside him. He pulled out another one, repeating the same action. Since he seemed alright, I shifted my attention to the box in front of me. It was so fucking weird that in my hands I had the words of a dead woman and was trying to find out if she knew who killed her.
