Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

on our website for any leads as the case is still open. I’ll do it for you now.”

“Thank you.”

Pam turned her back and whipped off the gloves. She marched to the copier and began the listless process.

Stripe kept one eye on the detective as she dipped her gloved hand into the box. Her fingers dawdled with the contents, trying to keep her sneaking quiet, the cranking and shunting from the copy machine was covering the bashes she made as she slipped the photos out from the frames. Stripe quickly placed them under her coat, curling the cards into the sleeve.

Pam watched the machine spit out faded copies of the original documents. After she was done, she returned to her desk. Stripe had placed the yellow file back in the box. “I am curious though. Why are you looking into this case now?” Pam asked. “It’s been nearly twenty years since your father’s death…”

Stripe smirked, as if there was something funny about her question. “It feels like it’s the right time. My mom thinks I’m crazy.”

“Sounds as if she’s made peace with it, it’s very hard to move on from grieving, especially when the killer’s never been found. Maybe you should listen to her and leave this to the professionals.”

“I’ve got enough journalistic experience under my belt thanks. I can handle it.”

Pam laughed lightly; she liked the sassiness of her reply.

“You said this is an open case,” Stripe said. “Have you had many tip offs?”

“We did at first but the majority of them were random callers, fantasists. You get them with every cold case. We followed them up but they all led to dead ends. You’re our first one in many years I’m afraid to say, Stripe.”

She smiled kindly. “I’m sorry I don’t have any information to give you.”

“Maybe, if you find something during your investigation, you’ll call me?” Pam plucked her card from the desk, handing it to her.

Stripe pulled off her gloves and placed the card in her coat pocket. “I will, thanks Pam.”

After they said their goodbyes, Pam showed her out of the office. She retrieved the Gerald Blair box and returned it to the records department. She hadn’t noticed anything was missing.

Chapter Forty-One

Summer 2016

Mary Summers had fallen into a snooze. Her grandson rattled the arms of her rocking chair, the cool breeze of the humid weather had coaxed her to sleep. She was so relieved when the mugginess of spring had finally passed; she didn't miss the thunder storms and waking up in a river of sweat.

“Nana!” Alex shouted. “Somebody wants to talk to you!”

She squinted, her head still foggy. “I’m not expecting anybody today.”

Full vision melted into view and she saw Alex pointing at a woman. Mary rose from her chair, she had to use a stick now no matter how much she hated it. Time was beating her. She shuffled to the edge of the porch, taking in her caller, her hips throbbing with pain.

The woman stood at the bottom of the porch. Her long blonde hair looked a mess with the waves of the Summer heat. As the lady swayed on her feet, Mary saw something snug on her back. It was in a sling and she nearly screamed when she saw the face. It was a baby with a load of black hair and an ice blue stare. Her heart did a little dance in her chest. I’ve seen those eyes before.

“Who are you?” Mary asked anxiously. “And who’s that?”

“My name is Stripe McLachlan,” the mysterious woman said. “This is my daughter, Sofia. I couldn't get childcare in time so I had to bring her with me. I'm a journalist for Titan News. I want to ask you a couple of questions about a case I’m working on, Miss Summers. I'm sorry to spring this on you suddenly.”

“And what case is that?”

“The Night Scrawler Murders back in the nineties.”

Mary laughed; she didn't want Alex to hear about the details. “What makes you think I know anything about it?!”

“I know you're not involved but I think you may have known someone who was.”

Now, she was confused and pissed off. “What do you mean? How on earth did you find me? This isn't right!”

The Stripe woman extracted something from her jacket pocket. “I'm sorry to show up like this. I had access to some employee records and found you the naughty way. Flash a wad of dollar bills, a door suddenly opens up. I know it's not the most ethical way to conduct business but you have to bend a few rules occasionally to find your way in journalism.”

Mary didn’t know whether to kick her off the porch or delve deeper. If a complete stranger can find out where she lived, what other details were out there. The world around her had changed vastly with the power of the almighty internet, anyone could access anything from the simple touch of a button, or the swipe of a screen.

The baby on Stripe’s back babbled for a few moments. “Do you recognise this man?” she asked, holding out a picture.

Mary commanded Alex to retrieve it. It was so odd that her grandson was racing up to her height. She'd be the shortest one in the Summers household in no time. Her arthritic fingers ached as she tightened the grip on the walking stick, keeping a tight eye on one of her pups. Alex plucked the photo from the lady and raced up the steps. When Mary saw it, she felt her head grow dizzy. Those green eyes, his dark rimmed glasses. She didn’t think she’d see him again.

“Nana!” Alex shouted, supporting her back as she wobbled.

“I need to sit down. Alex, help me.” She waved to the woman. “You can come up, dear.”

Stripe edged up the steps like a timid wildebeest. Alex escorted Mary back to her rocking chair. She indicated to the stool opposite her. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to frighten you,” Stripe said, bundling her daughter onto her lap. “You've seen him before,