Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Seventy-Four

Josie waited for Lila to come into the room where she and Trinity were sandwiched between a bed and the wall, but she didn’t come. Trinity fell back to sleep, her broken nose whistling. Josie racked her brain, trying to figure out where Lila would be keeping them, her mind still addled from the pistol-whipping Sophia had given her. She couldn’t tell if hours or minutes were passing. She thought about calling out to Lila, but she didn’t want to draw her attention until she had some kind of plan. She was just drifting off when the sound of a phone ringing came from another room. Again, she heard Lila’s voice. “Hello? Yeah, this is Barbara. Okay, I’ll be right over.” Then there was the sound of a door slamming. Lila had gone out.

Again, Josie wondered why the name Barbara was so familiar to her. Then she remembered arriving at the trailer park the day the Price boys had found human remains. The neighbor who had been watching them, who had called 911, was named Barbara Rhodes. Josie hadn’t met her because she’d already been interviewed and sent home by the time Josie got there.

Belinda Rose. Barbara Rhodes.

“Son of a bitch,” Josie said. She wiggled closer to Trinity, rocking her body from side to side until one of her elbows nudged Trinity. “Wake up. Trinity, wake up!”

Had Lila been under Josie’s nose all along, now posing as Barbara Rhodes? Noah had interviewed her the day they found the bones and not long after seen the sixteen-year-old photo of Lila Jensen that Dex had given her. Why hadn’t Noah made the connection? Trinity had said Barbara was overweight and old. It had been sixteen years; perhaps Lila looked markedly different.

“Trinity,” Josie said. “I think I know where we are. I think we’re in the trailer park.”

Trinity stirred with a soft moan but didn’t wake up.

“Trinity. Wake. Up. Lila’s out. We’re in the trailer park. I think we should scream. Someone might hear us.”

Josie thought of the little Price boys living next door with their mother. She took in a deep breath and started screaming at the top of her lungs. She screamed until her throat ached and her lungs could take no more, periodically falling silent to listen for anyone who might be coming. There was nothing.

Trinity’s voice was barely audible. “No one will hear you. Don’t waste your time.”

Josie knew she was right. Josie had grown up in this very park, and no one had heard her screams then either. Or if they had, they hadn’t come to her rescue. “If she hears you,” Trinity added, “she’ll hurt you.”

“She’s already hurt me,” Josie said and filled her lungs to scream some more.