Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Thirty-Nine

As Josie predicted, the man Austin Jacks described was not under the bridge. Gretchen unearthed a handful of people who knew him, but only as Zeke. It wasn’t a lot to go on. Josie didn’t know anyone named Zeke, and she had no idea what the drug dealer would want with her—particularly if he wasn’t associated with Lloyd Todd, as Austin had said. She left Noah at the station house to book the teenagers while she returned home to assess the damage and start cleaning up. She went in through her front door and moved through the first floor slowly, flipping on light switches as she went. The downstairs hadn’t been disturbed at all. Everything was exactly as she had left it—it was impossible to tell that anyone had been there. But Josie knew. The house felt different to her now—emptier and colder somehow, like it was missing something. Something she didn’t know if she could get back.

She hesitated before turning on the kitchen light, knowing the sight of the broken kitchen window was going to stir up all the feelings of unease and rage she’d been tamping down since the teenage boys had been taken out of her bedroom in cuffs. The entire ride home she’d been worrying about that point of entry—the glass broken now, her home open and vulnerable. Now anyone could slip inside unheard until she had it fixed. Then there was the cost of the window.

The kitchen lights flickered on, and Josie’s breath caught in her throat. In the window, a large, thick board had been fitted into the window frame, sealing it off. It wasn’t the responsibility of Denton PD to clean up crime scenes, and certainly not to board up windows, but her team had done it for her. She walked over and tested if it was secure. Tears of gratitude burned her tired eyes as she pressed against it and it didn’t budge. She rushed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Her bedroom had been straightened, the night stands had been placed upright once more, her lamps reassembled as best as they could be. The stuffing torn from her pillows had been removed, and the torn pillowcases were neatly folded and placed at the foot of her bed. Someone had stripped the muddied sheets and folded them as well. Even the broken pieces of her jewelry box had been neatly arranged on the top of her dresser. She walked over to the dresser, where all the drawers had been put back in their places, clothes folded and placed inside each one. She studied the carpet and saw that someone had vacuumed. Many items would need to be replaced, but everything in the room was clean and orderly. Only the nasty red words shouted from the walls, marring the tidy room.

She sank onto the bed and squeezed her eyes closed against the sting of tears. In her jacket pocket, her cell phone made a pinging sound. A text message from Noah.

I’m outside, it read. Can I come in?

He waited on her doorstep, a brown bag in hand that smelled deliciously like meatball subs. “You didn’t eat,” he said as he stepped past her. He gestured toward the bag as he made his way to the kitchen. “All I could get were sandwiches from that minimarket over near the college. We’ll probably pay for this later.”

Josie glanced at her microwave clock and saw it was almost three a.m. “Noah,” she said softly. “You don’t have to—”

“I think you should come stay with me for a day or two. Just until you get everything back in order here.” He didn’t look at her as he spread the contents of the bag across her kitchen table. Her stomach clenched as the smell grew stronger. He was right. She hadn’t eaten. She was starving.

“That’s not necessary,” she told him.

Together they sat down and dug in. Under normal circumstances, Josie knew she probably wouldn’t enjoy a minimarket sandwich, but in that moment, the cheese- and sauce-covered meatballs were the best thing she’d ever tasted. Noah waited until her stomach was full before trying again.

“You can take my bed; I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m fine,” Josie insisted.

He raised a brow. “So, you’re saying you’ll be able to sleep here tonight?”

He had a point.

“I wanted to go with you guys tomorrow for the courthouse interview on the Belinda Rose case,” she said.

“Then you should definitely get some sleep. Stay at my place—at least for tonight.”