“Nothing.And I meannothing, but I’m not quite done yet.You don’t happen to know if your grandmother keeps records herself?Birth certificate, death certificate, Social Security card.That type of thing?Maybe there’s somewhere she’d keep a copy of your grandfather’s death certificate?She would have needed one to settle debts and bills and such.”
Jill looked back at the cabin.“I know where she keeps that stuff, but I’m not sure anything of my grandfather’s is in there.”
“If you get a chance, look.And let me know.I’m headed to Helena to see if I can track down his death certificate there.”
Death certificate.Jill just… didn’t know what to think of any of this.“What is it you think you’re going to find, Sam?”
The other woman sighed, then opened her car door.“Hell if I know.”She slid into the seat.“Later,” she offered as farewell, then closed the door and drove away.
Jill made her way back to the cabin.Back inside.In the kitchen, she looked out through the back window and saw Grandma with her shovel, poking at the flower and vegetable beds she babied.
She’d be out there for an hour, at least, if the sun held.Which meant Jill could poke around in the cabin without questions.
For a moment, she watched her grandmother putter and wondered why she had involved Sam or thought this needed to be different.Grandma was happy.She spoke sometimes now.Did it matter why she hadn’t for nearly all of Jill’s life?
But she thought of everything Grandma had been hiding when it came to Marie.The way Marie’s secret son had hurt people last winter.The way secrets, time and time again, ripped things apart.
Maybe they eventually mended, but what would happen if Jill discovered the secrets herself?Could she stop some of the damage they would cause?
She was sure as hell hoping so.
She turned from the window and grabbed her laptop.She went and put it on her bed.If Grandma came in, Jill would hear the door open and she’d have about a minute to rush from Grandma’s room to her own, so it’d look like she’d been in there working the whole time.
Jill nearly laughed at the thought.It felt like being in middle school again, trying to sneak-watch the movies Mom had banned from the house.In other words—any and all movies that depicted sex.
But any humor Jill felt died when she snuck into her grandmother’s room.The bed was neatly made with a quilt Jill knew Grandma had made herself.She had a nightstand cluttered with odds and ends—pictures, books, medication bottles.
Grandma’s wedding picture hung on the wall across from the bed, along with a picture Jill had always assumed was Grandma’s parents, but she’d never asked.Never gotten details.
Why not?Why did she neverask?Why didn’t Dad ever ask or demand or get details?Why was he so content to move away at eighteen and almost never return?What was underneath all the idiosyncrasies of her family she’d always just accepted as normal and fact?
Jill needed to know.She really did, but standing in her grandmother’s bedroom about to snoop, she thought… she should just ask.Grandma, how did Grandpa die?Do you have his death certificate?What are you hiding from me?Why won’t you just let me in?
But she had.In all the ways she knew how, Jill had asked for more and been toldno.Jill wasn’t the type of person who didn’t take no for an answer, except in circumstances like this… when it wouldn’t let her go.
Because after the past year, she’d lived through way too much to be afraid of finding her own damn answers.
So it was fitting, all in all, that looking through her grandmother’s private papers yielded absolutelynothing.
Chapter Twenty
Honor’s Edge Investigations Office
Nate sat athis desk.He hoped he was keeping his fuming to a minimum, but based on Mrs.Hyatt’s pouting face, he doubted it.
“Nate, it’s just not enough.”
“I completed the service you hired me for.You only need to pay for said service.”And then never bother me again.
Mrs.Hyatt sighed gustily.Then she looked around with that wrinkled-nose expression.“Surely you all need the money.”
It was things like that.She wasn’t just needy.She wasn’t just annoying.She wasn’t just overly pushy.
She was critical and rude and… there was literallynothingredeeming about this woman, except he did truly believe she was a victim in her situation.
He supposed it was a lesson.Sometimes, even the victimssucked, and it didn’t mean he shouldn’t do his job.
It just meant he wanted to tear his hair out while he did it.
