“Fizzy—the truth isn’t buried. I have a copy.”

“You might have theonlycopy. Meghan seemed to think that was the case, anyway. She said that in the past, these records weren’t digitized. They only started keeping electronic copies in the early nineties.”

“Okay, fine. I have the only copy.” I traipse into the galley kitchen, to the mini coffee maker there. “Like I said, I’ll bring it to your new friend Meghan. I should really focus on painting this week, but maybe after I get a few solid days in I’ll feel ready to tackle this. Thursday, maybe? Or Friday?”

After filling the coffeemaker’s basket with fresh grounds and setting the thing to brew, I head back into the guest bedroom.

“I don’t think we should wait that long,” Fizzy says. “I’m worried about the physical copy in your possession. If someone is intent on destroying the evidence, they may come after it.”

“Oh, come on. Now you sound legit paranoid.” I tug open the top dresser drawer. I’ll need to get dressed after taking a hot shower, so I may as well grab undies, a bra, and socks now.

And while I’m in here…

I rummage under the pile of undergarments, feeling for the padded envelope.

Only, all I feel is the wooden bottom of the drawer. Soft, cotton socks. Lace and satin underwear.

“Where did it go?”

On the other end of the line, I hear Fizzy suck in an excited breath.

“What’s happening? Tell me what’s happening!”

“I’m looking for the papers. They were right here…”

I pull the drawer out, carry it to the bed, and dump everything out on top of the white comforter.

“Fizzy… I think someone stole the envelope!”

“No! Who? When?”

“I don’t know! I put it in this dresser drawer when I got home on Saturday afternoon. Then I headed out and spent the rest of the day at your place. Remember? We ate Hawaiian pizza?”

“Of course, I remember! You saidStar Warswas overrated, and you picked all the pineapple off your pizza. You left at 7:47 that evening.”

“Dang…” I swivel in a full circle, contemplating the fact that I’d had an uninvited visitor.

“What should I do?”

For once, Fizzy’s not brimming with ideas. He falls silent, and I amble back to the galley kitchen. I pour myself a cup of much-needed coffee. All the while, I’m thinking about the fact that someone rummaged through my things.

I feel violated.

I slurp down a sip of the hot brew and wait for Fizzy to say something that might help me make sense of my life.

Finally, he breaks the silence.

“I think you have to call your dad.”

“Dad? Why?”

“Tell him what you found and see what he says. Heandyour mother packed up and moved to the other side of the country out of the blue, so he must be in on it. Maybe he’ll shed some light on the matter.”

Chapter 16

Bella

I’m sipping from my second cup of coffee and scowling down at my palette when my father returns my call.