She gets a funny look on her face. “It’s nothing. Work stuff, I’m sure. I shouldn’t have brought it up. All couples have rough patches.”

Jay and I never did, but I guess other people do. Maybe Jay and I would’ve had “a rough patch” had he lived, though I can’t imagine it.

* * *

I take Sadie out for a walk before the sun sets. It’s dusky, but the snow on the ground lends a strange light to the late afternoon. We wander along the sidewalk past the Fergusons’ house, and I think about their security camera capturing me and Sadie, like it did the man walking by the night Jay was killed. What was going through his mind? How long had he planned to kill Jay? Did Jay have any idea his life was in danger? Or maybe it was just random. A disturbed guy saw the light on in the office and wandered back there.

Sadie and I stop, look both ways, and cross the street. I love our old neighborhood. Each house is different, built long ago, with wide covered porches, multiple fireplaces, side entrances, some with porte cocheres. Our house wasn’t too expensive because it needed work. Still, I hope I’ll be able to afford to keep it. The thought of selling feels like losing another part of Jay. I sigh, and Sadie and I pick up the pace. It’s getting really cold, the temperature dropping quickly as the evening advances.

We arrive at the corner, where the gas station bustles with people stopping on their way home from work, getting gas, buying a soda or a six-pack of beer. I watch them for a moment before we turn back toward home.

Just before Sadie and I reach our porch, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I forgot my gloves, so I grasp it with stiff fingers.

“Hello?”

Silence, then a deep muffled voice speaks. “I know who you are.” It sounds like someone talking through some device.

“Who is this?” I shiver in the gloom, glancing around me as if the speaker is hidden nearby.

“The girl in the cellar. Melinda Wright. That’s who you are.” My knees nearly give way, and I grab for the porch railing with my left hand.

The line goes quiet. The man has hung up. I glance at the screen. Unknown caller. My heart is thumping against my ribs. I turn and look over my shoulder into the shadows. But everything is quiet, snow-shrouded. Still. Is he here? Has he found me? I shake my head. That’s not possible. He’s in prison. He can’t get out, or can he? Hold it together, Molly. It was just a crank call. Someone trying to upset me. I grip Sadie’s leash tighter, and we run up the porch steps, slip inside, and I lock the heavy door behind us.

CHAPTER 26 - Molly

CHAPTER 26

Molly