Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Eighty

Josie dozed on Noah’s couch, nestled in a blanket, the remote in her good hand. She was watching Ally McBeal reruns while she waited for her pain medication to dull the throbbing in her arm. She had been back to her own house, replaced the kitchen window, repainted her bedroom walls, replaced all the bedding that had been destroyed, and bought a new jewelry box. But she didn’t feel right, not as safe as she did right now in Noah’s home, where no hungry reporters waited outside, shouting and vying for photos and any comment she might make. At Noah’s she felt hidden and out of harm’s way. He had assured her that she could stay as long as she needed. He had tried to be there with her as much as possible, but there was so much work to be done to wrap up Lila’s case that he was only home a couple of hours at a time.

The remote dropped from her hand when she heard the front door open and close. She blinked the fatigue away and smiled as Noah entered. He grinned back at her, placing the large wooden box in his hands on the coffee table and then planting a kiss on her forehead. “How do you feel?” he asked.

Josie lifted her cast. “Like someone broke my arm with a shovel.”

“I’m sorry,” Noah said.

Josie shrugged. “It’ll heal.”

“Did you figure out Lila’s message yet?”

She shook her head. “I’ll sleep on it. It’ll come to me. What’s that?”

Noah tapped a hand on the box. “We found this in Lila’s trailer. I thought you might want a look at it.”

Josie threw the blanket off her lap and lowered her legs to the floor, moving to the edge of the couch. “Silverware?” she asked. The box looked like an old box Lisette used to have where she kept her expensive silverware set. She’d given it to Josie and Ray when she’d moved into Rockview. Josie remembered because she and Ray had argued over it. Josie thought they should use the silverware, because what else would you do with it? Ray thought it was too fancy to use on a regular basis. The box was still sitting unused in Josie’s garage.

“No,” Noah said. “I mean, I think that’s what used to be in here, but now it’s—I don’t know. You have a look.”

Josie reached forward and lifted the lid. The inside was lined with dark-red velvet that was worn in many places. There were several pieces of jewelry, including jewelry that Needle had taken from Josie’s home. She sifted through the pieces until she found what she was looking for. Tears filled her eyes as her fingers closed around her old engagement ring, then the pendant Ray had given her when they’d graduated from high school. On a normal day, the sight of them would have been like a spike in her heart, but now they filled her with joy. They were relics from the life she had made in spite of all that Lila had done to her. Symbols of the great loves of her life thus far.

She set them aside and sifted through various newspaper clippings, including one about the Payne house fire. There were also photos—of men, mostly, including Josie’s father. There were other trinkets that had little meaning to Josie, whose import she couldn’t guess. Belinda Rose’s locket was there with the tiny piece of Andrew Bowen’s hair inside. “You’ll have to get this to Andrew Bowen,” Josie said.

“Of course,” Noah replied.

She picked up a long purple scarf wrapped around something soft and unraveled it. A gasp escaped her throat. “Oh my God.”

In her hands, his small face covered with rust-colored blood stains, was Wolfie.