“Detective Quinn!” Lilly said, pulling Josie into the kitchen. “Do you like marshmallows in your hot chocolate? Milk? Whipped cream? We’ve got everything. Sit.”
Josie smiled and sat at the island counter in the center of the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it was colorful and filled with bright, eclectic items. “Marshmallows, please,” she mumbled.
“Those are my favorite, too!” Lilly busied herself making them hot chocolate. Josie’s gaze was still on the foyer down the hall, her mind on the look on Amber’s face as she went to talk with Devon. Josie couldn’t help but think of Eden being marched to her actual death at Russell Haven Dam. Had she worn the same expression as Amber, or had she been too out of it from her head injury to be scared at all about what was to come? The whole case still had Josie rattled. The details gnawed at her when she tried to sleep at night. Loose ends and unanswered questions. Why had Gabriel chosen Russell Haven Dam? He’d killed Nadine in her own pond and left her body there, but he’d made a point of making sure that both Eden and Lydia’s bodies were found at Russell Haven Dam. Where had he kept Eden for all those days before he took her to the dam? The ERT had searched the basement of the megachurch but hadn’t found any evidence that Eden had ever been there—or in Gabriel’s house. Eden’s Mini Cooper had never been recovered. Who had sent the Russell Haven Dam postcard to Lydia? Everyone assumed that it was either Vivian or Gabriel, but the truth was that they didn’t actually know.
On more than one occasion, she’d brought these things up to Chief Chitwood. The first two times he’d entertained her questions, throwing out theories to pacify her. Maybe Gabriel chose Russell Haven Dam to make it clear to his living family members about atoning for their sins against Dr. Rafferty. Maybe Gabriel had had enough time to clean up after holding Eden prisoner, and that’s why they couldn’t find her DNA in his house or at the church. Maybe there was some other location none of them even knew about. Maybe he’d sunk Eden’s Mini Cooper into the river and they’d find it in the summer when the water levels dropped. Maybe Gabriel or Vivian sent the postcard to taunt Lydia.
“But none of that matters, Quinn,” he told her. “What matters is that we found the killer and his accomplice. Both of them are dead, which means no more bodies, and we got Amber back.”
When she went back to him a third, fourth, and fifth time with her concerns, he told her, “Drop it, Quinn. The case is closed. You know damn well that not every case wraps up into a tidy little bow. Life is messy, and so is murder and kidnapping. The pieces don’t always fit together to make a perfect picture in the end. You just have to live with it.”
“Are you listening to me?” Lilly said.
Josie blinked and Lilly came into focus. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying, let’s get down to brass tacks.”
Josie turned her head toward the girl, who now sat on the other side of the island, stirring powdered cocoa into a steaming hot mug. A bag of small marshmallows lay open beside it. Behind her, a large window looked out over their backyard where patio furniture and a swing-set were covered in snow. Josie laughed. “Did you just say, ‘let’s get down to brass tacks?’”
Lilly reached into the bag of marshmallows and grabbed a handful, depositing them into the mug. Cocoa sloshed over the sides of the cup. “That isn’t a real spill,” she said to Josie. “And yes, that’s what I said. My dad says it all the time. It’s like, let’s talk about the actual important stuff and not all the dumb stuff that doesn’t mean anything that people talk about all the time. It’s a nineteenth-century saying. I looked it up, ’cause I thought my dad was always talking about brass thumbtacks.”
She walked over to the counter and ripped three paper towels from the dispenser, returning to the table to sop up her “not real” spill.
Josie said, “Okay, what’s the really important stuff?”
Lilly pushed the mug across the countertop to Josie. “Have you ever been in a car chase?”
Relieved that she wasn’t going to ask again whether or not she had ever shot anyone, Josie said, “A high-speed chase? I don’t think so.”
“Not gonna lie,” said Lilly. “That’s disappointing.”
Josie laughed and sipped her cocoa which was so sweet, she’d probably have diabetes if she tried to finish the entire thing.
“Okay, if you were going to be in a high-speed chase, what kind of car would you want to drive?”
Josie plucked a marshmallow from the mountain of them melting into the chocolate of her cup and ate it. “Something small and sporty, easy to maneuver.”
“What color?”
“Black,” said Josie.
Lilly wrinkled her nose as she stirred cocoa into her own mug. “That’s boring.”
“Okay, red then?” Josie suggested.
“Yeah, like Mom’s new car.”
“Sure,” said Josie slowly, the buzz of whirling thoughts about the Watts case suddenly coming to a complete standstill in her mind. Then they kicked into high gear again. Puzzle pieces shifted at breakneck speed, trying out new configurations. “Your mom has a new red car?” she asked.
Lilly stopped stirring and smiled at Josie, her eyes bright with mischief. She put her index finger over her lips. She looked down the hall to the foyer, but Amber and Devon were still inside the office. The door was closed. Lilly walked over to a door in the corner of the kitchen and beckoned for Josie to follow.
The door opened into a small hallway with a washer and dryer inside. At the other end was another door. Lilly opened it and cold air slipped past their legs. Josie knew it was the garage, but all she could see were vague shapes. Lilly jumped down the two steps onto the concrete floor. Josie followed, closing the door behind her. She heard her shuffling around and then an overhead light snapped on. There were three bays, separated only by metal poles that stretched from floor to ceiling. Most of the space was filled with things like lawn equipment, tools, firewood, a log-splitter, a tractor, a snowblower, a detachable roof rack, and three kayaks. At far end was a small vehicle covered entirely by blue vinyl tarps. They were held in place by sandbags, which had been placed on the hood and roof. Lilly walked over and lifted the edge of one of the tarps, revealing a flash of red beneath.
Josie’s heart tapped out a frantic rhythm. She barely felt her legs as they carried her across the space. When Lilly spoke, the words seemed to come from far away. “You can’t tell my mom, okay? I’m not even allowed in the garage. ’Cause one time I was in here and had an accident with the garden shears.”
Josie walked around to the back of the vehicle and knelt down, picking up the edge of the tarp until she could see the license plate on the back. Every fine hair on the back of her neck stood up. The pounding of her heart reached an alarming crescendo. She knew the tag number because she was the one who had issued the BOLO.