Murder In the Past Tense (A Giorgio Salvatori Mystery Book 2) by LYNN BOHART

crossed.
    She dropped her chin and seemed to sink into herself as she thought. But then, she relaxed.
    “No,” she said. “Nothing.”
    “All right. Thank you, Mrs. Farmer,” Giorgio said. He stood up and pulled out his card and handed it to her. “Please call me if you think of anything else.”
    She took the card and looked up at him gratefully. “Thank you for finding my little girl,” she said with such a plaintive look that Giorgio felt his heart melt. “At least now, she can be buried properly.”
    Giorgio nodded. “I’ll let you know when we can release her remains. We’re just tying up loose ends.”
    He reached out a hand for the necklace, which she still held in her lap. She glanced up at him without relinquishing the jewelry.
    “Detective, you haven’t told me how she died.”
    He retracted his hand. “We don’t know for sure yet. She may have fallen into the well…but it appears that she was hit on the head with something.”
    She nodded and reluctantly handed the envelope back. “I understand.”
    “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll see that you get it back when we’re finished.”
    They moved towards the door, when Giorgio stopped and turned.
    “By the way, is there any chance you might still have something that would have your daughter’s DNA on it? Something personal like a hair brush?”
    She had risen from her chair and stood hunched over, grasping the oxygen tank by her side.
    “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she said, turning. She shuffled to an old desk in the corner, opened a drawer and removed something.
    “The night before Lisa disappeared,” she said, coming back. “She’d been watching TV in the living room sucking on a lollipop.” She held a white cloth in her hand. “I found the sucker the next night. It was stuck to the table next to the chair she always sat in.” She glanced over to the window as if she were still in her old home. “I just stared at that lollipop for what seemed like hours, crying. Because I could see her, you know? Sitting in that chair, her knees pulled up to her chest, sucking on that stupid sucker. And I couldn’t throw it away. I just couldn’t.” She turned back to Giorgio and held out her hand.
    In it was a small white handkerchief. Inside the handkerchief was a cracked red sucker that had partially disintegrated, the sugar congealed into small globs around the edges. Giorgio reached for the handkerchief, but she didn’t let go.
    “Every time I’ve looked at that piece of candy over the last forty-some years, I’ve been able to picture her that night. Happy. Contented. Her whole life in front of her. And now you’re going to take it away from me,” she said in a wispy voice. “I’ll never get it back.”
    Her anguish made his chest swell. He quickly coughed and said, “I promise…that I’ll get the necklace and whatever else I can back to you. And I’m going to try and find out what really happened to your daughter.”
    She looked up at him with a question in her eyes. “Do you have children, Detective?”
    He nodded. “Yes. Two,” he said.
    She stared at him for a long moment, as if to cement the promise he’d just made into his soul. Then she nodded and let go of the handkerchief.
    “I believe you.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    It was too late that afternoon to make an appointment with Ron Martinelli, so they called it a day and Giorgio headed home for the aforementioned fried chicken dinner with Rocky. After dinner, the brothers volunteered to take the kids shopping for a Christmas tree, so they all piled into the Salvatori Suburban and headed downtown.
    They found a crowded tree lot run by the Boy Scouts in the parking lot of the community pool on Sierra Madre Boulevard. Stands of Noble Fir, Scotch Pine and Blue Spruce trees were laid out in rows, highlighted by strings of colored Christmas lights.
    There were dozens of people browsing, and the kids scrambled out of the car as soon as