“You just moved your mother to South Carolina. You could just as easily move her here.”
What part of “I don’t want to live in Washington” had she mumbled? “I’m not interested in living the life my father did.” A life that was a lie and ended much too soon. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“I’m going to keep asking.”
“I know. Hence the reason I don’t call for small talk.”
He laughed. “I miss your wit too. Julie misses you terribly, you know. You’d be able to see her more if you moved here.”
Julie. His wife. A woman who’d been a mother to Ava when her own mom couldn’t be. “I miss her too, but guilt trips never worked with me in the past. They won’t work now. Give her my love and tell her I’ll come visit soon.”
He laughed. “Bye, Ava.”
“Goodbye, John.” She hung up and realized she hadn’t said a word about the attack in the parking lot. Not that she should, but the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t help believing the murder of the family and the attack on her tonight were related.
She had no idea how, but the thought wouldn’t leave her alone. But how had the person known to find her at the assisted living home? A chill skittered up her spine as the only answer was that he’d been watching her.
If it hadn’t been some random encounter.
Without the pictures to tie her to the murders, she wouldn’t have given the attack another thought—other than to be glad she’d escaped relatively unscathed and to pray he was caught before he could find someone else to terrorize. But Caden’s revelations shed a different light on everything. So she kept circling back to, What if the attack hadn’t been random? Why had he targeted her?
Her phone rang and she jumped. Sarah Denning. She swiped the screen. “Hi, there.”
“Hi. I’m just calling to see what you’re doing for lunch tomorrow.”
“Um . . . eating with you?”
“And Brooke and Heather. Heather will be back from that conference thing late tonight, so she’s ready for some girl time. You in?”
Was she? “As of right now, I can be in. My schedule may change, but if it does, I’ll let you know.”
“Of course.” She paused. “Everything all right? Besides your mom, I mean. I know that’s not all right.”
“Mom is about the same, but . . . someone attacked me in the parking lot of the nursing home and I—”
“What! Are you okay? Do I need to come over there? Do you—”
“Sarah, Sarah, I’m okay. It’s okay.”
“You just said you were attacked! How is that okay? Tell me the details.”
Ava filled her in on the attack and Caden arriving at just the right time. She didn’t mention the investigation or the pictures. “Anyway, I’m not sure what tomorrow holds.”
“Wanna come stay with me tonight?”
The offer made her smile. “No, that’s okay. I’m sure you’re planning that wedding. Gavin’s there, isn’t he?”
Sarah laughed. “He is, but he’s headed out the door in ten minutes. I’d love to have you.”
It was tempting. But she needed to think. “No, I’m fine staying here, but thanks.”
“Okay then, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. See you tomorrow. Maybe.”
“I’ll text.”
“Bye.”
Ava hung up and pressed fingers to her eyes. Aching muscles, a sore hip, and a scraped elbow all chimed in with a pain level that required a good dose of ibuprofen. She made her way into the kitchen and popped the pills.
She placed her hands on the counter, drew in a deep breath, and thought about the boxes lining her bedroom wall. She could unpack more or she could get on her father’s old laptop and see what she could find.
The boxes could wait.
She returned to her bedroom and opened her closet door. On the back wall of the small area, she pressed on the top left corner and a portion sprung open. She reached into the small storage area and pulled out a laptop. Then hesitated. The puzzle that had arrived three days after she’d learned of her father’s death rested patiently inside the hiding place, waiting for her to put it together without him.
Her throat tightened. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She shut the door and it clicked into place.
When her father had died eight months ago, she’d gone to his home in Falls Church, Virginia, and grabbed everything he’d told her to get in the event of his death. She’d brought the items home, and there they’d sat, hidden away in her closet, while she dealt with her loss in the only way she knew how—pretend it wasn’t there. She still hadn’t even put his house on the market, just paid someone to keep the exterior looking nice and the interior cleaned once a month.
Now there was no more pretending. No more telling herself they’d never found his body, so he wasn’t really dead. She was going to have to come to terms with the fact that he was gone and pull herself out of her denial.
Soon. But maybe not today.
She carried the laptop to the kitchen table. After shoving aside some of the puzzle pieces, she opened the computer as grief swept over her. When she opened her eyes, a picture of her mother and father stared back at her. She blinked, wondering if profound sadness could cause hallucinations, but the picture was still there. “What were you thinking, Dad?” If the wrong person had gotten their hands on the laptop and saw—
She shook her head. It didn’t matter now. He was gone. Her mother didn’t have much longer, and it would just be her and Nathan. No cousins, no aunts and uncles, no one. Once more shoving the depressing thoughts aside, she typed in the password.
And froze. “What? What do you mean it’s not a valid password?” She asked the question aloud as if the computer could answer her. It remained silent, of course, but her father had left specific instructions on what she was to do upon receiving word of his death, and that had included how to access his laptop.
Only the password didn’t work.
Had it expired? She rubbed a hand across her forehead while she debated what to do. “Why’d you change the password, Dad? And what would you change it to?”
She sighed and pushed away from the table.
A creaking noise came from her French doors and she froze. She always pulled the curtains at night for privacy and had done so upon arriving home from the visit with her mother. She’d also set the alarm so if the doors actually opened, the whole apartment complex would know. Her heart thudded and she stood.
Calm down. It could be a cat or a raccoon.
Or it could be that the person who’d attacked her in the parking lot had somehow managed to follow her home. Or already knew where she lived?
She grabbed her phone and checked the security cameras. A dark figure showed up, his head down, his hand on the doorknob. Ava’s adrenaline kicked up a notch and she dialed 911.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Someone’s trying to break into my apartment.” She gave the address and hung up. She had a few questions for the would-be intruder. Forewarned was forearmed, right? She shoved the phone into her pocket and darted from the table and into her bedroom to slip the gun from her nightstand. Her father had rarely carried a weapon, but he’d taught her how to use one. Holding it at her side, pointed toward the floor, she stepped back out of her room, walked past the laundry area, and buttonhooked around the corner and into the den. She faced the glass doors.