Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“That’s my Nanny and Papa Vin.”
“What are you guys doing?” Win comes out of her room, dressed in her pajamas with her hair wet and Dolly in her arms. The damn dog is going to forget how to walk, the way she keeps toting her around.
“Looking at pictures,” Emma tells her softly, and Win climbs up on her lap, my thighs tensing to keep the stool steady.
“Who’s that?”
“My grandma and grandpa.”
“The grandma who taught you to cook?”
“Yeah,” she says, smiling, then turns the page.
“Is that your mom and dad?” Win asks, pointing at a young couple standing in front of a house with flowers blooming in the beds behind them. The man is a giant compared to the pretty blonde woman tucked protectively at his side under his arm, her hand resting on his flat stomach. The two of them are smiling at the camera. Happy, in love.
“Yeah.” She kisses the side of Win’s head. “That’s my mom and dad.”
“You look just like her but have his same hair.” She leans back against Emma’s chest.
Emma flips the page, and the next one is of her mom, obviously pregnant, with her dad holding her the same way he was in the last picture. But now, his hand is resting protectively over her round stomach, the two of them looking slightly older but just as happy.
“My mom was pregnant with me in this one. Gianna has the ones of them when Mom was pregnant with her,” she says softly, then turns the page again and again, showing Winter and me pictures of her when she was a baby and as she grew up. Every photo of her sister, her, and their parents together is so filled with love that it’s almost tangible.
Win doesn’t make a peep except to ask if Emma can teach her how to make the Italian wedding cookies she and Gianna were making in one of the photos with Nanny. Other than that, she listens with rapt fascination as Em tells the story that goes along with each picture.
When she gets to the last page, there are two obituaries side by side. Her mom’s and her dad’s. My heart fucking breaks as she looks at them before closing the album.
“Will you read to me tonight, Emma?” Win asks, probably sensing her sadness and wanting to distract her.
“Yeah, honey,” she replies quietly.
She gets down with Dolly, then asks me, “Can I watch TV, Dad?”
“Yeah.”
I watch her walk to the living room and turn on the TV, then spin Emma’s barstool so she’s right between my legs.
“I miss them.” She glances at the album, and her chin wobbles.
“I know.” I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her into me. I’m not sure if that trip down memory lane hurt or helped.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, dragging in a shaky breath as I fold my arms around her.
“You’re a horrible liar,” I whisper back against her ear, and she laughs softly, the sound releasing some of the tension curling around my insides. “Do you want to take a bath?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I need to take Dolly out.”
“I’ll take her out while you take a bath.”
“Are you going to let her accidentally on purpose get lost?”
“What kind of man do you think I am?” I laugh.
“The best kind,” she says quietly after a long moment, and if I didn’t already know I was never letting her go, those three words would have sealed her fate.
CHAPTER 26
miles
With my jaw tight, I go over the files that were forwarded to Martinez and me from Chief Marshall this morning. Over the last few weeks, Officer Ceding has not made one update to the girls’ case. There are no suspects, new or old. They hadn’t pulled the phone records. And they only spoke to the girls’ friends once, after Martinez and I were removed from the case. I can’t even find where they went to their college to talk to anyone outside their friend circle.
“So they just let this case blow in the fucking wind,” Martinez says from his desk catty-cornered to mine.
“It seems that way.” I rub the space between my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. I slept like shit last night, and it wasn’t because Emma woke up gasping from another nightmare.
“Where do you want to start?” Martinez asks, and I focus on him.
“Let’s go over the phone records and see if we can find Anna’s boyfriend, then go from there.”
“Sounds good.”
I watch him pull up that record, then hear the printer begin to spit out pages. He gets up from his chair and walks to it. A minute later, he hands me half the stack of papers.
It takes us working together for less than an hour to find a number that doesn’t belong to any of her family or friends. Martinez comes over and leans against my desk as I dial it and put the call on speaker.