“Honey, Liam’s place burned to the ground, along with ten other units at Charter Ridge. It happened about a week after the girls and whoever the adult male was were killed.”
“My God, was anyone . . . hurt?”
“One elderly gentleman died, I believe. He was wheelchair-bound upstairs. The elevators stopped working. It was on the news . . . Of course, you wouldn’t have known about this as you were locked up at the time.” Rachelle sighed. “I am so sorry.”
Blinded with grief then and now, she wanted to add, but refrained. What else did I not know? It seems that large parts of my life weren’t exactly as I had imagined.
“I didn’t know,” was the only response she could come up with.
“That’s why I’m staying at a hotel. I’ll be in town a few days longer. I want to find out if there’s any DNA connection to me.”
Honest, Tessa thought. She really didn’t know this woman. All these years, she had built up such hatred for her. In another time and place, they could have been friends. She wasn’t that much older, maybe early sixties now. She couldn’t remember her age, and it was of no importance anyway.
“Of course,” Tessa said, still shocked that Liam’s condo had burned to the ground. “I’m sure Lee will stay in touch, let you know the results when they come in. The man is a true miracle worker.”
“Good luck,” Rachelle said, and Tessa was one hundred percent sure that she meant exactly what she said.
Chapter 27
The gentle people of the press were nowhere to be found when the Mercedes carrying Sam and Tessa turned onto Dolphin Drive.
“Thank God,” Tessa said. “I feel like I’m being spied on.”
“I’m sure someone else is about to feel that way, too,” Sam said as Dave pulled the car into the garage.
“I hope it’s not for the same reason,” she replied, trying to remember how to use sarcasm. She had spent most of her life being dictated to in one way or another. Free for the moment to say what she pleased, she knew deep down inside that her sense of humor and spirit would return if she would just let go. And she would. Now that it seemed pretty certain that she was to remain free, she was going to try to be her best. Not as she had been when she and Joel were married, not the girl who’d been tossed in and out of foster homes, and not the little girl who’d been whisked out of class, only to learn her mother had died of a heroin overdose. No, Tessa would just be herself. Whatever that was, she would go with it.
“Dave, you’re free to go. If I need a lift, I’ll call,” Sam said to Dave, who had remained in the driver’s seat.
“Anytime, my friend.” Dave gave Sam a two-fingered salute and backed out of the garage.
They went in through the door that led to the kitchen, the same way she had done in the past. She stopped dead in her tracks. “Sam!”
“What in the hell?” Sam said as he removed his cell phone from his shirt pocket. “Tess, stay where you are.”
“Lee, it’s me. Looks like there’s been a break-in at Tessa’s. I’m going to call the police unless you tell me not to.”
Tessa waited outside the doorway.
“I’ll call them now, then.” He hung up and dialed 911.
The blue dishes that Darlene had picked out for the house were scattered all across the kitchen floor, in pieces. The Keurig coffee machine was completely smashed up. The garbage bin had been dumped out onto the bar area. Cans of soda had been opened and dumped all over the floor. The silverware was crammed into the garbage disposal, and from the looks of it, whoever did this had turned the disposal on. A low humming sound was coming from inside the sink. The disposal’s motor was fried.
“I don’t get this,” Sam said. “I’ve got security watching the house, plus the alarm was on when we left. How could anyone get inside and stay long enough to do all this damage? You stay here while I go around to the back. I want to come in through the glass doors. See if this bastard destroyed anything else.”
“Okay,” Tessa said. She didn’t like being left alone even if it was still early in the day, and Sam was just a shout away. This didn’t feel right. She was brought back to the Sunday that she had returned from San Maribel. She had used this exact entrance, and though the kitchen had been remodeled, the layout was still the same. She had gone upstairs to search for the girls, for Joel. Of course, she had had the shock of her life, and now, she wasn’t sure if the sheer fright of that day would ever leave her. But perhaps she could go back to that dark place where she had hidden the images of their slain bodies without having a full-blown panic attack. Prison took the fear out of you; she knew that firsthand.
Sirens wailed in the distance, and by the time she opened the garage door, three squad cars, with sirens blaring, were parking in front of her house. She put her hands over her ears, wondering how one ever got used to the noise. They must have seen her because the sirens all went silent at the same time.
“Ma’am, you called nine-one-one?” a tall African-American officer asked her.
“Uh, yes . . . Sam called.”
“Sam? Is he your husband?” the officer asked.
Sam chose that moment to appear from the side of the house. “I’m the one who called,” he shouted before the four other officers pointed their drawn handguns at him.
“Guys, back off,” the African-American officer said. Tessa looked at his bright gold name tag. Officer Ray Waterman.
“The place is trashed,” Sam said to her and the other four police officers.
“Okay, sir. We’ll need to secure the inside for the crime-scene
