By the time Kate walked back into the house with a pair of disposable gloves, her LED flashlight, and a roll of plastic evidence bags and tape, Luke was already in his office, leaning against the wall and sipping his wine as she sat behind his desk in silence.
Her mind had been so focused on catching their serial killer that she never for a minute considered the boxes she’d brought back from Kenny’s house could hold new information about her parents’ case.
But how could that be? Wouldn’t the sheriff and his team have seen those letters decades ago?
That unexpected bit of news had perked her up more than a cup of the district’s potent brew would have. She donned her gloves. Perhaps the letters meant nothing, but if they could help find the killer, she didn’t want to contaminate what was left of the evidence.
“What box were those letters in?”
Luke put his glass down and got up.
“Second one from the top. Under two or three photo albums.”
Kate lifted the first box and set it aside, then opened the crossed flaps on the second box, definitely one of the boxes she’d gotten from the attic, her belated uncle’s handwriting marking it with the words Steve and Jo’s attic.
After putting the albums aside, she retrieved the bundle of letters Luke had described.
“Those are the ones,” he said.
Shining her light on the envelopes, Kate saw several prints, but they were more than likely Luke’s.
“Sorry, Kate. I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s all right. His prints could be inside. Heck, the saliva that sealed those envelopes…”
For a split second, she debated whether she should just send the envelopes to the sheriff. Let him determine if they were relevant to the case. But her curiosity had the upper hand.
“Letter opener?” She put out her hand, like a surgeon waiting for a scalpel as she examined the handwriting.
Luke riffled through his desk drawer, the clinks of various pens rolling around as she focused on the angularity and sharpness of the strokes, the open loops, the angle at which the letters slanted. Kate knew graphology could tell a lot about the person, but unfortunately, she wasn’t trained to read into it. All she could say was that the handwriting was unfamiliar to her. It wasn’t her belated mom’s or dad’s. It wasn’t that of her belated uncle or aunt, either.
She felt the weight of a metal object landing in her extended hand, then realized she’d unknowingly been holding her breath. “Thanks, Luke.”
With palpitations, she ripped open the top of the first letter, then carefully pulled it out of the envelope, barely touching its edges.
The yellowed paper released a faint smell as she unfolded it. Or was it just her mind playing tricks on her?
Those hypnotherapy sessions had confused her a little too much lately. The aromas that had reached her nose had felt absolutely real. As real as Luke’s Irish Spring scent right now.
“Here goes,” she said as she prepared to read the very short note in the same handwriting as what covered the envelope.
Dear Jocelyn,
I wish things were less complicated.
But I still appreciate watching you from a distance. Your smile, your hair, your eyes. You beam and radiate, like a beacon calling to my heart.
She has your smile and your eyes.
E xox
Kate lowered the note, a shiver going down her spine as she re-read the last line. “I hate that. Mom had a stalker?”
“I don’t know, Katie,” Luke said, leaving the back of his desk and joining Kate as she carefully returned the note to its envelope.
She ripped open the second one.
Dear Jocelyn,
I haven’t heard from you, even though I gave you my address. Maybe your husband makes it hard for you to communicate with me.
Rest assured that I’ll stick around, waiting for you to come to me when you’re ready.
E xox
“I don’t like these letters,” Kate said as she reinserted the second note into its envelope.
“Are you sure you want to keep reading them?” Luke asked, his hands massaging her shoulders, working on a knot at the base on her neck.
Dear Jocelyn,
I heard a rumor that your husband will be out of town next week? Is that true? I’ll try and swing by, discreetly. Leave the back door open like before.
E xox
A stabbing pain poked her in the chest as the unspoken nature of her mom’s and E’s relationship suddenly became clear.
Dear Jocelyn,
Seeing you last weekend was the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Even though you said you didn’t open any of my letters, I’ll keep sending you my notes, so you know I keep thinking of you.
The way our bodies meshed together, can’t you see we were meant for each other?
I can still smell your perfume on me, and I love that feeling. I’ll be dreaming of you tonight, as always.
E xox
Dear Jocelyn,
Are you avoiding me? You changed your schedule. What’s going on? I always look forward to running into you at the grocery store on Monday mornings, the flower shop on Friday, and the baker on Sunday. But I haven’t crossed paths with you in over two weeks.
What’s going on? Are you okay?
E xox
Kate tossed the most recent letter onto the desk, unable to take any more of it. Unable to bear the harsh reality of what they meant. A dozen more envelopes had yet to be unsealed, but the world around Kate shrank, making her dizzy and weak.
She ran to the bathroom and locked herself in. Leaning against the sink, she stared at herself in the mirror.
Do marriage vows not mean anything to anyone?
“Mom?” she whispered, her lips shaking. “How could you do this to Dad? How could you… cheat on him?”
She watched her eyes fill with tears as the old wounds from her ex-husband’s unfaithful ways stabbed her in the chest. Her eyelids became heavy as though they alone bore the consequences of what she’d just learned, pushing out her silent tears and letting them drip into the sink below.