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I roll my lips together and exhale. “Before the whole disaster happened, I told Jake I wanted to see all the evidence together. Unless he tells me otherwise, I will show up in his office tomorrow morning at nine as we agreed.”

She nods. “Make sure you’re careful and don’t exert yourself.”

Her words uncoil some of the tension in my chest. The knowledge that Lynn will always have my back, be at my side, and care for me takes some of the sting out of Jake’s rejection. “I will. I promise. I’ll get some dark chocolate and dried mangoes to nibble on after.”

“And don’t forget the water, lots of water.”

I smile. “I won’t forget. I’ll even let you pack a snack bag for me, Mamma Lynn.”

“I will do that. Now, what do you want to do? Go somewhere? Take a walk? Shop?”

I shrug.

“Go antiquing?” She suggests with a waggle of her perfect eyebrows.

I toss another pillow at her.

Chapter29

Avalon

Well,here goes nothing. Jake didn’t text or call to cancel our meeting, so I’m standing outside his closed office door. And it’s not like I can retreat, either. I had Lynn drop me off so she could have the car. The cops behind the front desk smirked at me and waved me into the back.

“They probably think I keep coming back for booty calls,” I mutter. They wouldn’t be entirely wrong now, would they?

I inhale deeply. The scent of dust and stale coffee lingers in the air as I knock on the door.

“Who is it?” His voice comes through, the tone dry and irritated.

I swallow. “It’s me, Ava.”

The door opens a few inches, his body blocking the view inside. He looks over my head and widens the space just enough for me to slip in.

“No one told me you were here.” As soon as I clear the opening, Jake glances out and locks the doors.

“They waved me in.” A nervous flutter sets itself in my stomach.

Jake has yet to meet my eyes. He shakes his head. “So much for security.”

I lean on the door, cross my arms, and fight the urge to hunch my shoulders to make myself smaller. When he looks at me, his gaze travels down my body and back up again. Heat darkens his mismatched eyes to a deeper sea-green and twilight sky. Too late I remember that this is the same spot we were making out just a day ago.

Jake blinks away the tendrils of lust hanging between us and takes a step back. He gestures behind him, and I see why he was guarding the door.

He set up a long gray folding table behind his desk, a foot or so off the back wall. Sunlight comes through the blind-covered window, painting light and shadow stripes over the table and the objects on it. The table takes nearly the entire width of the small office. All the collected evidence in plastic bags is neatly laid out with numbered sticky notes next to each.

I push away from the door, drop my backpack on a chair, and step around his desk. Jake must have moved it to make more space. His old, creaky chair is pushed to the side, as well.

I walk around the table, touching nothing, yet the past reaches to me with a near physical presence. It’s like walking through spiderwebs. I resist the urge to swat away the tingling energy dancing around me like dust motes in sunlight. I curl my fingers into my hand.

“You have the recorder ready?”

Jake leans over his desk and grabs the small digital recorder. His gaze darts to the locked door behind me. A bead of sweat forms on his temple. His chest expands with a deep breath, and he nods.

These objects want to be read. They scream for my touch. Pressure builds at my back, like invisible hands pushing me forward. The hands of the victims, perhaps, in need of closure, justice, and peace.

I hope I can provide it to them.

* * *