I had just started the fourth installment when I realized that I couldn’t recall what had happened in the previous two. I sighed. I’d tried to get into the movies, but I couldn’t focus. I was antsy about the camera. Was it working properly? I hadn’t tested it before I put it in. I was sure the equipment Harrison sent me was top-notch but you never knew when something might be flawed. Until it didn’t work when you needed it. And even if it worked, would I get the footage I needed to prove my theory? Granted, if the first set of footage didn’t yield anything it wasn’t like I could put the camera back and try again. But in the meantime, a murderer was running loose in Sinful.
My cell phone dinged and I picked it up, then bolted off the couch and ran for my keys. Brandon was on the move! I was in my Jeep and on the road in a matter of minutes, but the dot on my screen showed that Brandon had already left town and was on the highway driving toward New Orleans. I headed that direction, watching the dot to see if it turned off.
When I reached the highway, it was empty as far as I could see, but there was a bend in the road a good mile ahead and then it disappeared around a line of trees. I rounded the corner and checked the phone again, but the dot had disappeared. A couple taps on the screen didn’t yield any change. I pulled over on the side of the road and checked the signal, but I had plenty of strength. Moving to the next option in my box of tricks, I shut off the phone, then turned it back on to reboot the app, but the dot didn’t reappear. When I accessed the tracker, it came back with a message that said Unavailable.
I tossed my phone on the passenger’s seat and cursed. Something had happened to the tracker. Quite possibly, Brandon had gone barreling down one of those narrow bumpy roads like he usually did and it had disengaged. Then maybe he’d run it over. Or perhaps he’d gone through a muddy area and the tracker was so coated it stopped performing.
Whatever the case, I’d reached a dead end. The number of roads and trails that spun off the highway was practically unlimited. It would take a month to cover them all. Disgusted with the cold trail and frustrated that there was nothing I could do but sit and wait until tonight when I could retrieve the camera, I turned the Jeep around and headed back to Sinful.
My cell phone rang on the way back home. It was Ida Belle. Gail’s parents had arrived and they were going to visit them at Marie’s house. They wanted me to come. I couldn’t think of a good reason why I needed to meet Gail’s parents, but I also couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse. I assumed Ida Belle and Gertie didn’t want me sitting in my house alone and this was their way of forcing me into socializing. I wasn’t sure grieving parents were the best people to expose to someone like me, but I figured at this point, I couldn’t make things worse, either.
I told her I needed to shower and get presentable, then I’d stop by for a bit but probably wouldn’t stay very long. This sort of thing wasn’t within my skill set.
I took a quick shower, blow-dried my hair, and put on a dash of lip gloss. I know it was the South and Sunday, but I still balked at putting on a dress. I’d been given the day off and I intended to take it. Instead I pulled on jeans and a polo shirt and headed for Marie’s house.
Gail’s parents were an older couple and I could immediately tell where Gail got her nice gene. They were clearly overwrought but couldn’t stop thanking everyone for their kindness. Marie for letting them stay with her. Ida Belle, Gertie, and me for giving Marie a much-needed break and sitting with Nolan. The entire town for bringing food and for the many phone calls and emails from residents sending their thoughts and prayers.
Nolan showed up about twenty minutes after I did. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and that was probably true, more or less. Dozing for ten or even thirty minutes didn’t give your body the rest it needed. I’d played the sleepless game enough times to know that eventually it caught up with you.
He approached Gail’s parents and immediately apologized that they couldn’t stay in their prior home.
“I don’t want you to feel that you’re not welcome,” Nolan said. “It’s still your home as well. But I’ve had to move to the guest room because of the police—” His voice cracked and he coughed and looked down for a bit.
Gail’s mother put her hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “We understand. It’s probably for the best anyway. I’m not sure…”
Her voice trailed off but we all knew what she was thinking—that being in the same house where her daughter had been murdered might not be the most comfortable place to be. Assuming that there was any comfortable place to be given the circumstances.
Ida Belle cleared her throat and looked down at Nolan. “Did the police, uh, finish?”
Nolan nodded. “I haven’t been there yet, but I spoke with Carter earlier. He said I’m free to return home. I have some paperwork and a few other things I need to handle, but I think I’ll pack some more clothes and stay at the hotel again. The soonest someone can get out to fix the upstairs window will be tomorrow, and I need to hire someone to clear the room, uh…anyway, the hotel wasn’t too bad and at least it’s secure.”
We all shifted uncomfortably at the thought of someone hauling the bed that Gail had died on out of the room, and that wasn’t the end of the things that would need to be addressed. Murder wasn’t a tidy business.