Page 35 of Already Lost

She was this maid from down in Kentucky

Red hair that reached almost down to thefloor

Red hair… that made her think about JennaJames. She’d been so beautiful, even in death. That beautiful red hair fannedout around her face. It didn’t reach to the floor, of course, but she did havea lot of it. Red hair… could that mean something?

Oh, my man and the rose

Oh, how the story goes

Oh, my man and the rose

that took him from me

It was late at night when I saw them both

Leaving that bar with his jacket on her

I couldn't believe it, yes I was loath

To think that coat was a gift from my sir

Laura paused on that line. Jacket… sheremembered how at one of the crime scenes, a coat had been discarded in thecorner. Was that relevant? Or was she just looking for sense where there reallywas none?

He kept her warm while my heart grewcolder

Their fingers entwined while mine, theywere numb

Since that night even though I grow older

I can't understand how I was so dumb

They were on the bridge, their breath wasmisting

When I looked up and saw them both upthere

My watch, it stopped when I saw them kissing

My man and the girl with the rose in herhair

Oh, my man and the rose

Oh, how the story goes

Oh, my man and the rose

that took him from me

The last line faded out, the music givinga final slow flourish and then a sad note to end the song. The record rotatedon silently a few more times before Laura reached out to turn the gramophoneoff. It was no less haunting here in an evidence locker than it had been outthere at the crime scenes. The song was generic, though, she could hear thatnow. There wasn’t enough feeling in the woman’s voice. She maintained thathusky tone, never breaking or wavering. It was the music behind the vocal thatconveyed all of the emotion.

Still, there was something here. There hadto be. Laura looked over what she had written again, thinking. Nate stoodsilently next to her – whether he was thinking his own thoughts or just givingher space, she didn’t know, and she didn’t ask. She focused on the words.

The jacket line stood out to her each timeshe passed over it, like a thorn in an otherwise smooth rose stem. The jacket.

“Crime scene photos.” Laura looked atNate. “Do we have them all yet? Including the last one?”

“I’ll grab them from upstairs,” Natereplied, moving quickly. He left Laura alone for a while, going over the song.Redhair. Jacket. Rose in her hair. Smile like sunshine. Pretty and young.Thosewere all the descriptions given of the song’s antagonist – the woman who hadstolen the vocalist’s man. There was something here, a conviction growinginside of Laura. A thought that refused to go away, nagging at her each newtime she read the lyrics.

“Hey,” Nate said, coming from the front ofthe cage again. He must have almost run up there and back – that, or Laura wasmore lost in thought than she had realized. “Got them.”

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