“I do,” I said. “And if we can figure out who she is, maybe we’ll understand why he sketched the locket.”
8
Morning sunlight filtered through a thin veil of mist that was spreading its way across town. I pulled my car to the side of a narrow road and looked around. The neighborhood was quiet, the kind of stillness that came before the day was off and running.
Talia’s parents’ cabin sat at the end of the lane, a modest cedar-sided place with a pitched green roof and a single step leading to the front door. Smoke drifted out of the top of the chimney, carrying the scent of burnt oak through the cool air.
I killed the engine and sat for a moment, listening to the birds chirping overhead, and I wished I’d brought my binoculars. But today, birdwatching wasn’t on the agenda.
Sliding out of the car, the gravel in the driveway crunched under my boots as I started for the house, noting the front curtains were closed. I hoped I wasn’t too early and that Talia would be in the mood to talk.
I stood on the front porch and knocked, unsure what kind of welcome I’d find. The door creaked open, and a man came into view. He was broad-shouldered, middle-aged, and had silver streaks running through his thick, dark hair. His flannel shirt looked well worn, the kind that had seen more than a few winters, and he was wearing jeans that were faded at the knees.
He gave me a polite nod and said, “Hi, can I help you?”
“I hope so. I’m Georgiana Germaine. I’m a private investigator, and I’ve been hired by Audrey’s mother to help solve her murder.”
“I see. It’s good to meet you. I’m Gabriel.”
“I was hoping I could speak with Talia.”
He crossed his arms, tipping his head to the side. “You can try, but she hasn’t been in much of a talking mood these past few weeks.”
“I get it. She lost a good friend.”
“A great friend. The two of them had been attached at the hip since elementary school.”
I nodded, and for a moment, the silence between us felt heavy until it was broken by the tick of a clock somewhere deeper in the cabin. Gabriel stepped back, motioning me inside, his eyes shifting toward the hallway before returning to me.
Voice lowered, he said, “Talia hasn’t been herself since Audrey died. I wish we could find a way to get through to her, but so far, nothing we’ve tried seems to be working.”
“You’ll find a way. She just needs time.”
I followed Gabriel down a short hallway that opened into a kitchen. The scent of coffee and butter hung thick in the air, and at the stove I saw a woman with soft curls of blond hair and an apron tied over a gray tracksuit.
Upon hearing us enter the room, she turned, spatula in hand.
“Oh, hello,” she said, her eyes darting from Gabriel to me.
“This is Georgiana Germaine,” Gabriel said. “She’s a private investigator.”
The woman’s expression faded to sadness.
“Of course. Rosemary told me all about you.” She wiped her hands on her apron and came around the counter. “I’m Brianne. Audrey was like family to us. Talia adored her. We all did.”
“I was sorry to hear what happened,” I said. “I know how close they were.”
Brianne pressed her lips together and nodded, blinking back the emotion welling in her eyes. “It doesn’t seem real, you know? Last month she was here, sitting right at that table, talking to me about how she wanted to surprise Talia with something for her birthday. But she died before she could … before it ever …”
Gabriel approached his wife, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, honey.”
“No, it isn’t.”
She turned, shifting her focus back to the breakfast she was cooking—scrambled eggs, potatoes, bacon. Switching the burner off, she faced me. “You should stay for breakfast, Georgiana. There’s plenty.”
“I appreciate the offer,” I said. “It looks delicious. I’ve already eaten breakfast, but if it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate a cup of coffee.”
“Of course.”
