Full Tilt. Rick Mofina

each had a cookie while settling in before supper. As usual, Grace emptied her school backpack on the coffee table. Kate set aside the mail, fired up her laptop to review emails, then changed into jeans to prepare chicken tacos, rice and salad. Before setting the table, Kate checked her phone again.

      Nothing from the Searchlight Network.

      “Mom, did you think some more about my phone?” Grace asked while biting into her taco.

      “Still thinking on it, hon.”

      “Maybe we could look on your computer for a good one?”

      “Not so fast, kiddo.” Kate smiled.

      After supper, Kate helped Grace with her book report on Horton Hears a Who!

      “Mom, who do you like better, the Cat in the Hat or Horton the Elephant?”

      “Well, the Cat creates a lot of mischief whereas Horton tries to help people, so I guess Horton, for that reason.”

      “The Cat’s a lot of fun, though.”

      “Yes, but he leaves a big mess.”

      Later, when Kate got Grace into the tub for her bath, Kate’s phone rang. The number was blocked. Kate left the bathroom door open and kept an eye on Grace, who was singing to herself as she splashed. Kate moved down the hall to take the call out of earshot.

      “Hello?”

      “Kate Page?”

      She didn’t recognize the man’s voice.

      “Yes, who’s calling?”

      “Detective Ed Brennan, Rampart Police, Rampart, New York. I got your name and number from the flyer you’d submitted to the Children’s Searchlight Network.”

      Kate caught her breath and tightened her grip on her phone.

      “Yes.”

      “My call concerns your listing of a necklace your six-year-old sister was in possession of when she was presumed to have drowned after an auto accident in Canada, twenty years ago.”

      “Yes.”

      “Could you go over the details of the necklace for me?”

      “Now?”

      “Yes.”

      Kate cleared her throat.

      “A month before our mother died, she gave Vanessa and me each a tiny guardian angel necklace with our names engraved on the charms. Vanessa wanted to trade them, so she wore the one with my name on it and I kept the angel bearing her name.”

      “So, except for the engraving, they’re identical?”

      “Yes.”

      “Do you still have the other necklace?”

      “Yes, I do.”

      “I understand you live in New York City.”

      “That’s right.”

      Brennan paused as if to choose his words carefully.

      “I know this would be very difficult, and I apologize for the imposition, but would you be willing to bring the necklace to Rampart to show us? It might help with an ongoing investigation.”

      “Couldn’t I just send you a picture?”

      “We’d prefer to see the actual necklace—we might have other questions.”

      Kate’s stomach began tightening.

      “Can you tell me more about the case, Detective?”

      A few moments passed.

      “This is confidential,” Brennan said.

      “Of course.”

      “We’ve found a necklace at a crime scene that fits with the description you gave. However, the engraving is unclear at this point. It’ll need further analysis because it was badly charred.”

      “Charred?”

      “Unfortunately, it was discovered in the remains of a fire at the scene of what appears to be a murder-suicide. We have a white female in her twenties deceased, who was burned beyond recognition. We’re doing all we can to confirm her identity.”

      Kate put her hand to her mouth, then glimpsed her daughter happily playing in the tub.

      “You say it’s a murder-suicide, what—what else can you tell me?”

      “The male’s identity is also unconfirmed. We’ve not released many details to the public at this point. I am very sorry to put you through this. But we wouldn’t have imposed if we didn’t have reason to believe your cooperation might assist us. Will you be able to bring the necklace to Rampart?”

      “Yes. Yes, I’ll be there with the necklace tomorrow.”

      After hanging up, Kate got Grace to bed, then called Chuck Laneer’s cell phone. Although Reeka Beck was her immediate boss, and going over her head would create tension, Kate preferred to talk to Chuck about this. They had a good relationship going back to Dallas when she’d told him about Vanessa’s tragedy.

      “That’s an incredible development for you, Kate,” he said when she filled him in. “I don’t see a problem with you taking a few days off to follow up. But to steer clear of any potential conflict, you’re not going up there as a Newslead reporter.”

      “Right.”

      “You’re going on your own cost and time, to follow up on a private matter. I’ll let Reeka know you’re off for a few personal days.”

      “Thank you.”

      “Good luck with this, Kate. It can’t be easy.”

      Kate then made arrangements with Nancy to watch Grace. She used her points to book a flight and car and started packing.

      Then she went to her jewelry box and took out the necklace bearing the tiny guardian angel with the name “Vanessa” engraved on it. She held it in the palm of her hand until tears rolled down her face.

       I tried to hold you. I tried so hard.

7

      Rampart, New York

      The calm clip-clop of a passing Amish horse and buggy carried through the window of the Rampart Police Department, belying Kate Page’s unease.

      After her plane had landed in Syracuse, she’d made the two-hour drive in a rented Chevrolet Cruze. Mile after mile her knuckles were white on the wheel, until she’d reached the edge of town where Rampart’s sign welcomed her to the Home of the Battle of the High School Bands.

      Following the GPS, she went straight downtown to the limestone building housing police headquarters. A receptionist directed her to a creaky hardback bench where she waited for Detective Brennan. Still anxious from her trip, Kate checked local coverage on her tablet.

      Mystery Surrounds Double Death. The headline in the Rampart Examiner stretched over a sweeping aerial photo of the crime scene. The charred blotch of the obliterated barn was branded on the lush woods like a wound.

       Is this where my sister died?

      For much of her life Kate had cleaved to the remote hope Vanessa was alive, and, now, to learn that she might’ve died here was overwhelming. But Kate held on to her composure by concentrating on news reports.

      A new one posted on a radio station’s site said police still hadn’t identified the victims. However, sources had told the station that the male was believed to be Carl Nelson, an IT technician at the MRKT DataFlow Call Center. They described him as a shy, “near-reclusive” man, whose truck was found near the burial grounds, the site of the fire. Mystery continued