the car.
Fuck this, he thought, closing the distance between them. Her left hand hung in a fist at her
side now and he reached down, caught it in his.
The second he did, her hand clamped around his in a vise, her grip tight and desperate.
“Breathe,” he whispered, keeping his voice low.
“I am.”
Just barely.
But she sucked in a deeper breath and focused her gaze on the trunk, staring past
the crime scene cameras, the techs, and Burt. From where they stood, they could see
as Burt fought with the trunk. It didn’t want to open at first, but finally, it yielded.
Water and mud gave way with a hideous sucking sound.
It might have been better if they couldn’t see at all.
The trunk, like much of the car, was flooded with mud and water and it continued to
leak out.
But there was no mistaking the secrets the trunk had held inside it all these years.
Still half-buried in the mud there was a skeleton, eye sockets empty … staring.
Waiting.
* * *
“Is it Mom?”
She’d lost track of the time. Judging by how gritty her eyes were, she’d been awake
going on nearly twenty-four hours. Judging by the looks on her family’s faces, they’d
been awake through the night, waiting for answers. Waiting for her.
Seated in her father’s living room, Jensen stared at Chris, tried to find the words
to answer that question. Tate leaned against the mantel, his face buried in his arms,
hiding away from the world. And their dad stood at the window.
She couldn’t recall how many times she’d seen him standing just there.
Waiting.
And now it was time to acknowledge the truth.
Over in the corner, Dean sat quietly. He’d driven her over here and it never occurred
to her to tell him to leave. Frankly, she couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving. Just looking at him calmed some of the chaos in her brain and if
that chaos broke free just now, she thought maybe she’d start to scream and never
stop.
His solid, quiet strength had kept her sane throughout the afternoon and right now,
she was relying on his solid, quiet presence to keep her steady.
She couldn’t break down here.
She should be able to, she knew. This was her family and if she broke around anybody,
it should be them. But she didn’t want to.
Swallowing, she licked her lips and blew out a breath, trying to find some semblance
of control before she started to talk.
“The body is female,” she said quietly. “They won’t be able to tell much more until
tests are done. But…”
Tears blurred her eyes and she tipped her head back, staring up at the ceiling until
they cleared. “There were rings . Still on her hands. The—” She blew out a breath
and then kept going. “The mud kept them on her all this time. I’m pretty certain they
were Mom’s.” She flicked a look at Dad, saw those stooped old shoulders flinch. “I
brought pictures. It would be better if Dad could give his opinion. It’s been so long…”
Chris started to sob.
Tate lifted his head and she saw the tears on his face. He crossed the room and sat
down by Chris, wrapping his arm around her.
“Can I see the pictures, Jensen?” Doug asked softly.
She pulled them out of her purse, but her hands shook so badly, she couldn’t open
the envelope.
Dean’s hand appeared in her line of vision. “Here, let me,” he said gently.
She nodded and pushed it into his hands.
He took the envelope to her father and showed him the pictures of each of the three
rings.
And when Doug would have sank to the floor, Dean caught him. “Let’s sit down, Mr.
Bell,” he said, using that same gentle, calm voice as he guided Doug over to a nearby
chair.
“They’re hers,” Doug said, his voice dull. “My wife. She’s really gone.”
Chapter Six
Rain had rolled in last night.
Dean sat on the small balcony just outside his bedroom and stared across the street
at Jensen’s apartment.
The lights were off.
She was home.
It had
Fuck this, he thought, closing the distance between them. Her left hand hung in a fist at her
side now and he reached down, caught it in his.
The second he did, her hand clamped around his in a vise, her grip tight and desperate.
“Breathe,” he whispered, keeping his voice low.
“I am.”
Just barely.
But she sucked in a deeper breath and focused her gaze on the trunk, staring past
the crime scene cameras, the techs, and Burt. From where they stood, they could see
as Burt fought with the trunk. It didn’t want to open at first, but finally, it yielded.
Water and mud gave way with a hideous sucking sound.
It might have been better if they couldn’t see at all.
The trunk, like much of the car, was flooded with mud and water and it continued to
leak out.
But there was no mistaking the secrets the trunk had held inside it all these years.
Still half-buried in the mud there was a skeleton, eye sockets empty … staring.
Waiting.
* * *
“Is it Mom?”
She’d lost track of the time. Judging by how gritty her eyes were, she’d been awake
going on nearly twenty-four hours. Judging by the looks on her family’s faces, they’d
been awake through the night, waiting for answers. Waiting for her.
Seated in her father’s living room, Jensen stared at Chris, tried to find the words
to answer that question. Tate leaned against the mantel, his face buried in his arms,
hiding away from the world. And their dad stood at the window.
She couldn’t recall how many times she’d seen him standing just there.
Waiting.
And now it was time to acknowledge the truth.
Over in the corner, Dean sat quietly. He’d driven her over here and it never occurred
to her to tell him to leave. Frankly, she couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving. Just looking at him calmed some of the chaos in her brain and if
that chaos broke free just now, she thought maybe she’d start to scream and never
stop.
His solid, quiet strength had kept her sane throughout the afternoon and right now,
she was relying on his solid, quiet presence to keep her steady.
She couldn’t break down here.
She should be able to, she knew. This was her family and if she broke around anybody,
it should be them. But she didn’t want to.
Swallowing, she licked her lips and blew out a breath, trying to find some semblance
of control before she started to talk.
“The body is female,” she said quietly. “They won’t be able to tell much more until
tests are done. But…”
Tears blurred her eyes and she tipped her head back, staring up at the ceiling until
they cleared. “There were rings . Still on her hands. The—” She blew out a breath
and then kept going. “The mud kept them on her all this time. I’m pretty certain they
were Mom’s.” She flicked a look at Dad, saw those stooped old shoulders flinch. “I
brought pictures. It would be better if Dad could give his opinion. It’s been so long…”
Chris started to sob.
Tate lifted his head and she saw the tears on his face. He crossed the room and sat
down by Chris, wrapping his arm around her.
“Can I see the pictures, Jensen?” Doug asked softly.
She pulled them out of her purse, but her hands shook so badly, she couldn’t open
the envelope.
Dean’s hand appeared in her line of vision. “Here, let me,” he said gently.
She nodded and pushed it into his hands.
He took the envelope to her father and showed him the pictures of each of the three
rings.
And when Doug would have sank to the floor, Dean caught him. “Let’s sit down, Mr.
Bell,” he said, using that same gentle, calm voice as he guided Doug over to a nearby
chair.
“They’re hers,” Doug said, his voice dull. “My wife. She’s really gone.”
Chapter Six
Rain had rolled in last night.
Dean sat on the small balcony just outside his bedroom and stared across the street
at Jensen’s apartment.
The lights were off.
She was home.
It had
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