“I’ll wait here,” Jill said.
“I’ll go find Sam,” Tessa said, walking into the kitchen.
Since he was most likely outside with Harry’s forensic team, and she did not want to leave the protection of the house, as the media remained at the entrance to the gated community, just waiting like a pack of hungry wolves ready to snatch the first bite of her if she emerged, she dialed his cell-phone number, which he had scribbled on a pad next to the telephone, and stood by the glass doors. He answered on the second ring.
“Sam, it’s me. I need to see you inside. It’s important,” she said, then saw Sam as he walked toward the house.
“Two seconds,” he said, then hung up.
When he opened the door, he placed an arm around her. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll never be okay, Sam; you of all people should know that. However, I have someone here who wants to speak to you.” She turned toward the living room.
Jill was sitting where she had left her, with the drawing spread out in front of her. When she saw Sam, she flipped the sketch so that only a blank piece of paper showed.
“It’s okay, Jill,” Tessa said when she saw her flip the paper over.
Tessa introduced them, surprised that their paths had not crossed during the investigation.
“Jill wants to see some of Poppy’s sketchbooks. Do you know who packed them and where can we find them? It’s important,” Tessa said. “Show him the drawing,” she said to Jill.
Jill turned the paper over and handed it to Sam. Sam held it toward the window, studied it, then returned it to Jill. “What does this mean?”
“I don’t know just yet. That’s why I need to see her other drawings,” Jill explained.
“Sure, that’s reasonable. I’m sure the boxes are in the master bedroom. I packed up Joel’s office but hired professionals to pack the personal possessions from the house,” Sam explained. “Between the three of us, we should be able to find the girls’ belongings, the things that were in their rooms.”
Tessa heard the hesitation in his voice. Sam had known the girls, too. How could she have forgotten that? It was bound to be stressful for him, or at least she thought so.
“What about Lee?” Tessa asked when she remembered that he was coming over this afternoon.
“We can start now and take a break when he arrives.”
She nodded. “Jill, do you mind?”
“No, I cleared my schedule for the rest of the day. I want to help in any way that I can.”
Am I ready for this? She had barely been out of prison twenty-four hours, and things seemed to be moving too fast. That was good, maybe. Her life had been so regimented, so routine for so long, it was going to take her a while to get used to the world outside. “Then let’s get started,” she said, knowing there was no reason to put this off.
The drawing had brought back so many memories of the girls seated at the kitchen table, drawing while she made dinner, talking about colors, why they were named the way they were. Poppy always had an explanation, and this would send them off into other topics of conversation. Tessa always felt so proud of them; they were smart, insightful, open to learning. She had enjoyed these times so much. Tears spilled over, and she didn’t bother trying to stop them. Cleansing, she thought, as she braced herself for the task ahead of them.
“Tessa, if you don’t want to do this, don’t,” Jill said when she saw her crying.
She shook her head, then took a tissue and wiped her tears. “I need to. It’s . . . I just need to do this. I’m fortunate to have this opportunity, I need to take advantage of it.” She knew it would hurt, but avoiding the memories wasn’t beneficial to her or her future.
“Let’s get started,” Sam said. “Who knows what we’ll find?”
Tessa agreed, but still couldn’t keep from feeling frightened at what they might discover. She picked up their coffee cups, went into the kitchen, and rinsed the cups and placed them next to the fancy coffee machine. Returning to the living room, she announced, “I’m ready.”
Sam led the way as they headed upstairs. Tessa took another deep breath, hoping to calm her nerves. She had practiced deep breathing over the years and learned to calm herself. In prison, it seemed fairly easy. Now, in the outside world, not so much. She flinched when Sam touched her arm.
“Hey, if you don’t want to do this, don’t,” Sam said. “Jill and I can handle it, right?” He looked to Jill for confirmation.
“Absolutely.”
“No, I need to do this. For myself. And my daughters.” She motioned for Sam to open the door to the master bedroom.
Inside, stacked against the wall opposite the doorway, were dozens of boxes. Tessa scanned them for some kind of writing but saw nothing. “They’re not marked,” she said to Sam.
He pulled a few boxes away from the wall, then turned them around so that she could see. “The markings were just facing the wall.”
Clearly, the boxes were marked. Why wouldn’t they stack them where they could be identified? Though honestly, she realized it had not mattered as she had been locked away for life, and other than Lara, there was no family to claim them. And she doubted that her sister would have taken the time to sort through them even if she thought there might be something worth pawning.
“I see,” she said. “Then let’s start with Poppy’s room. Maybe I can find her sketchbooks.”
Five minutes later, Sam had both boxes from the girls’ rooms moved to the center of the master bedroom. “How do you want to do this?”
“We can each open one box. If we find Poppy’s sketchbooks. . .” She turned to Jill.
“I’ll have a look at them, and we’ll go from there,” Jill said.
Sam
