Tracing her fingers along a chair rail, she headed for the dining room. Whoever bought the old monstrosity would have to crave a home with character. It certainly had that. From its wide windowsills to arched openings and massive moldings, it echoed the detailing of a different time.
In the kitchen, she found the door leading to the screened porch reinforced with plywood to prevent further break-ins. The upstairs fared worse. The room her talented aunt had employed as a dark room had been completely ransacked. Mr. Barnett had been hesitant to volunteer the information but said there were chemical spills, and many of her aunt’s beloved photos had been found torn and littered on the floor. Looking at the damage, Eve felt a slow burn of anger that someone would destroy her aunt’s work. They had no right! As if in mockery of the act, the vandals had used black spray paint to leave a large squiggle on the wall like a brand. Stupid, stupid kids.
Two of the bedrooms had barely been touched, but the last—her aunt’s room—had suffered nearly as badly as the dark room. The contents had been dumped from the dresser and closet. At least Mr. Barnett had seen to it that her aunt’s lovely clothing had been piled on the bed for her to sort through and replace. Someone had obviously overturned the bureau—the mirror was shattered— and the bedspread had been ripped off and thrown on the floor. This time when the tears welled, she couldn’t stop them. It wasn’t fair. Her aunt had been taken prematurely at forty-nine by an ugly disease, and this is how her memory was honored? Lifting a soft terry robe from the bed, she inhaled her aunt’s scent and pressed the fabric to her cheek.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Rosie. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”
Eve jerked reflexively when a sharp pounding interrupted her thoughts. Given the vandalism she’d witnessed, her heart lurched frightfully, sending a flutter through her stomach. It took a few seconds before she placed the sound as someone banging on the front door. Mr. Barnett had indicated someone from the sheriff’s office would likely stop by to talk to her about the damage. She hadn’t expected them so soon, but was eager to learn the details of the report. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears, she hurried down the steps, then yanked open the door.
“Why hello there.” The petite woman standing on her front porch offered a friendly smile.
“I…” Eve mentally stumbled, her mind doing cartwheels. Something about the woman was familiar. The appearance was off—there was gray in the woman’s hair that hadn’t been there before, and her eyes looked watery, not bright like Eve remembered—but the inflection of her voice was the same. She swallowed hard. “Mrs. Flynn?”
“I saw your car. Maggie said you were coming.”
“Excuse me?”
Her dead friend’s mother smiled indulgently and patted her hand. “It’s all right. I realize things are different now.” Turning, she roamed to the edge of the covered porch and rested her hands lightly on the railing as she gazed over the front yard. “Maggie has waited a long time for you, Eve.”
Flummoxed by her unexpected arrival and the strange comments, Eve trailed after her. “Mrs. Flynn? I…don’t understand what you mean.” Surely, her best friend’s mother wasn’t discussing Maggie as if she were still alive. Perhaps the woman was ill. Her odd behavior made the whole scenario seem like a dream.
A car passed in front of the house, sending a flutter of leaves into the yard on a puff of air. The breeze smelled of honeysuckle and exhaust, and a clingy kiss of sunlight warmed Eve’s face. She couldn’t be dreaming.
“Did you know they didn’t find her body until June of ‘68?”
Eve bit her lip, uncertain how to respond. When her mother had uprooted them the spring after the bridge collapse, the bodies of three victims were still missing. She’d later learned that Maggie’s remains had been located during the summer, but there was no talk of returning for the funeral. Her mother wouldn’t hear of it.
“I’m so sorry.” At least her father’s body had been discovered in the debris pile on the Ohio side of the river, allowing him the dignity of a proper burial. Not Maggie. For nearly six months, her remains had been battered and misshapen by the cold currents of the river. If the knowledge ripped at Eve’s heart, how much more the heart of her friend’s mother?
“Would you…would you like to come inside?”
“No thank you, dear.” Mrs. Flynn turned to face her. “I just wanted to welcome you back. Maggie asked me to.”
Oh, God. The woman was certifiably crazy.
She might have contemplated the thought further but for the arrival of a police car in front of Aunt Rosie’s house. Mrs. Flynn shook her head at the sight, then quietly left the porch without so much as a goodbye. She was halfway across the yard when the man in the car stepped onto the street.
“Mom,” he called.
Mom?
Eve felt her eyebrows launch into her bangs as she watched the man dart around the rear of his car to greet Mrs. Flynn on the grass. They exchanged a few soft words before the woman continued her path back to her home and the man jogged toward the porch. As he hustled up the steps, Eve got the shock of her life.
“Ryan?”
“Hey, you remembered.” Maggie’s brother grinned and extended his hand.
When she slid her fingers into his, he yanked her close, hugging her tightly. In no time, she found herself laughing breathlessly.
“It’s so good to see you, Ryan.” She hugged him back, delighted by the warmth his unexpected presence brought. “Mr. Barnett never said you worked for the sheriff’s department.”
“Yep. A sergeant.” He tapped the badge pinned to his neatly pressed uniform, then held her at arm’s length, his smile igniting a sparkle in his blue eyes.
It was hard to believe the skinny thirteen-year-old she remembered had matured into such a tall, broad-shouldered man. His black hair, no longer curly but wavy, lay tousled over his brow, his grin as infectious as always.
“God, it’s good to see you after all these years.” Ryan seemed reluctant to release her. “I ran into Adam Barnett at the bank, and he told me he’d given you the keys. I can’t believe you’re really here.”