What Happened That Night
Page 27
The woman brightened. “Would you like a tour?”
Before I could say “no,” my gutsy cousin stepped forward. “Absolutely. We’d love a tour. Thank you.”
“Wonderful. By the way, I’m Dottie.”
“Hi, Dottie. I’m Lia, and this is my cousin Brandy.”
Dottie clasped her hands to her chest. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it as if changing her mind.
“What is it?” Lia asked.
For a second, Dottie froze. Then she laughed. “Sorry, girls. This heat is making me light-headed. I’m just so happy to show you my home and garden. How about some iced tea? We can take it to the backyard while we walk.”
“That would be wonderful,” Lia trilled.
Despite my polite smile, my stomach churned. Was I bothered by Dottie’s over-the-top friendliness, or was it something else? Maybe it was simply the fact that I was about to enter the house where my mother had lost her life.
“Come on.” Dottie led the way up the porch steps and into her house. Leo, the dog, went as far as the porch, then he jumped onto a large patio chair, curled up, and went to sleep.
“Lia,” I whispered, grabbing her arm, “maybe we shouldn’t go inside.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. She’s a stranger, and we don’t know anything about her.”
Lia shook her head. “Don’t be scared. I’ve got a good feeling about Dottie.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Besides, if she tries anything, I can take her. I do have my black belt after all.”
I made a little scoffing sound. “No, you don’t.”
“Okay, maybe not, but I almost got it.”
Dottie peeked out from the front door. “Girls? Are you coming?”
“We are.” Without waiting for me, Lia fearlessly bolted up the stairs and into the house.
Ignoring my instinct, I followed. As we passed through the living room to the kitchen, I looked for something I remembered from my childhood, but I didn’t recognize anything. Had I played in this room or sat on the couch with my parents reading books?
Just like outside, the inside was filled with plants. In the kitchen alone there were at least fifty succulents on the windowsill. There were also several framed photos on the wall, including one of a woman with long blond hair and blue eyes like me.
“Have you lived here long?” Lia asked.
Dottie removed a plastic ice tray from the freezer and brought it to the sink. “Let’s see... I’ve been here since 1988.”
My stomach dropped; 1988 meant that Dottie moved here shortly after my father was convicted. She had to know about the murder, didn’t she?
Lia shot me a pointed look before asking about one of the photographs.
“Oh, that’s Lilly.” Glancing over her shoulder at me, Dottie hesitated a beat before asking if I’d mind grabbing the pitcher of tea from the refrigerator.
“Not at all.” Grateful for the task, I opened the refrigerator. For a moment, I felt a sense of relief from the cold air.
Then my eyes landed on something unusual. Something I didn’t understand. Was I imagining it? No, I wasn’t.
“Did you find the tea?” Dottie asked.
I tried to respond, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stare because sitting on the top shelf of Dottie’s refrigerator were several glass jars, all neatly labeled with a date and name.
And inside those jars were... human remains.