Page 41 of Everything She Feared

So now here they were driving up to the Shaws’ North Seattle home to return Anna’s property and ask her parents a few more questions.

Benton eased the Ford to a stop and they got out. The Shaws watched, their focus going to Pierce, who was carrying the large brown paper bag into which forensics had placed Anna’s backpack.

Chuck stood to greet them while Lynora remained on her knees, holding a gardening trowel.

“Your garden’s beautiful,” Pierce said.

“Some friends sent live plants for the funeral,” Lynora said.

“What do you have there?” Chuck asked.

“We’re returning Anna’s property. May we talk?”

They went inside to the living room. Jon had gone to a movie with friends, Chuck told them. The house was empty. Sitting in the quiet with the Shaws, Pierce felt their pain in the grief creasing their faces, the helplessness in their eyes, drained of joy by the toll of their agony. The silence was broken with the rustling of the paper bag as Pierce gave Anna’s backpack to her mother.

Lynora released a soft groan. She touched the canvas tenderly, slowly unzipping it, reaching inside to run her fingers over some of Anna’s belongings, a cosmetic pouch, a brush and a hair tie.

Touching the last things her daughter touched.

“Thank you,” Lynora whispered, hugging Anna’s backpack as Chuck moved his hand soothingly up and down her back.

“Does this mean—” Chuck cleared his throat “—that you’re done?”

“Not yet,” Pierce said. “We’ve got things to follow up on.”

Chuck nodded.

“Forgive me for this imposition,” Pierce said, “but would you allow us to take a look in Anna’s room?”

Chuck looked at Lynora, who found her voice.

“What for?”

“To give us a better understanding,” Pierce said. “It may help.”

“Help with what?” Lynora said. “Will it bring her back?”

“Honey,” Chuck said. “They have a job to do.”

“It’s alright,” Pierce said. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll take you up,” Chuck said. “Give us a moment.”

Allowing the Shaws privacy, the detectives waited in the kitchen.

Benton was shaking his head as he scrolled through his phone. Pierce turned from him, uncertain if he was shaking his head at messages or the fact they were here.

Pierce looked at the calendar on the backsplash, appointment notes—one for Anna at the dentist next month. An array of family photos fixed with souvenir magnets to the fridge door. Happier times over the years with the Shaws at Niagara Falls, Disneyland and New York City.

In each of them, Anna’s smile was like the sun.

Chuck entered the kitchen.

“We’re both very tired. She’s resting on the sofa.”

He led them upstairs to a small hallway and a door he opened to a pleasant hint of lilac.

“It’s been untouched since Anna—” Chuck stood at the entrance, looking into it. “Lynora slept on the bed the first nights.”

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