Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

that David took over the living room with some western show, so Nicole took Jessica into their room to watch the movie. Of course, Kimberley hadn’t remembered. She was too busy thinking about Hannah Brown, lying on her own bed going over the intel she had collected and the crime scene photos for the twentieth time. No matter how many times she looked at them, they never told her a different story.

Kimberley quickly texted back.

Yeah. Just picking it up to bring to daycare.

She stopped herself from texting any more. She wanted to tell her mom what had happened, about the note, but she knew it would freak her out. She’d insist that Jessica come home immediately and then Jessica would be on lockdown for the foreseeable future. And Kimberley didn’t want Jessica to know that anything was wrong. She wanted her to feel safe. She wanted things to appear normal, even though they weren’t. Just before she put her phone away, Nicole texted again.

Okay, I’ll be home in a few minutes to help you look. Had to grab groceries.

Kimberley stowed her phone in her pocket and walked back toward David and Nicole’s bedroom. She pushed open the door and flicked on the light. She hated to pull apart the bed, because it would mean her mother would have to remake it for a second time, but she needed the elephant. She pulled up the blankets, sheets, and pillows. Nothing. She checked beside both bed tables, but nothing there either. She attempted to pull the bed away from the wall, but it wouldn’t budge. “Ugh,” she groaned. Kimberley kneeled down to look under the bed, lifting up the frilly bed skirt. It was dark underneath, so she pulled her flashlight from her utility belt, shining a light on the dust bunnies and rolled-up socks, but no elephant.

Ugh. She should have put a tracker on that damn thing, she thought to herself. Kimberley went to push herself back up, planting her hand on the wooden floor, but she paused, when she realized the plank of wood was unstable. She pushed the palm of her hand down harder, the wood rose again, wiggling in its place. That’s weird.

Kimberley stood all the way up and pulled out her phone, bringing up her mom’s number.

There’s a piece of wood by your bed that’s loose. Might want to tell David to fix it.

Her finger hovered over the send button, but something stopped her. Instinct.

She erased the message, putting her phone away. Kimberley kneeled down on the floor again, pressing on several pieces of wood until the unstable one popped up. The whole thing came loose, and she removed it. A hole sat under the floor.

Hesitating for only a moment, she reached her hand into the dark abyss, feeling around. A tickle on her finger. Cotton that stuck to her. Definitely a spider and its web. She had faced worst things in her life than a spider, so it didn’t faze her. Then her hand touched something other than wood and insects. It rocked back and forth. She gripped her hand around it and pulled it out. A shoebox. Kimberley set the box down. Items inside clamored around. The noise didn’t give any indication as to what it was. She slowly opened the box. Inside lay two items wrapped in white rags, almost as if they had been mummified. Kimberley cocked her head. She pulled at one white rag, unwrapping what was inside; a flip phone fell out into the box. She pulled at the other white rag, unwrapping it from its mummification, a 38-caliber pistol landed beside the phone. Kimberley looked down at the phone and the gun. Two pieces of a puzzle.

She reached for her own cell phone and pulled up her photo album. The image she was looking for was right at the front. She went to her keypad and typed in ten digits. Kimberley hit dial. The phone in the box immediately began to vibrate.

33

“Kimberley, Ellie was in my car,” Nicole said, standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

Kimberley was sitting on the floor, knees pulled in. In front of her were her new discoveries, the missing puzzle pieces. Her mouth and eyes were wide as she was working through everything in her head, a hundred different possibilities for why the same type of gun that was used to kill Hannah and the phone that had called her on the night of her murder were in this house. The same phone that had been in contact with her over the years that wasn’t even saved under a name. The same number Hannah had as a contact on her emergency form at the daycare. Why was it here? In this house?

Nicole looked at Kimberley and then at the wooden floor where the board had been pulled up.

“What did you do to the—” She stopped herself as her eyes scanned the box and the contents of it.

“Why are these in your house?” Kimberley narrowed her eyes, meeting her mom’s.

Her mom was a possibility in all of this, as much as she hated to think that. But they were in her house, the house she took care of, the house she lived in, in the bedroom she slept in, just beneath the floor she walked on.

“I… I… I’ve never seen any of that.” Nicole shook her head.

“What about this?” Kimberley pointed to the hole that doubled as a place to stash murder weapons. “Did you know about this?”

“You need to put those things back before David gets here. He wouldn’t want you snooping around his stuff,” Nicole warned.

“Mom! You’re not getting it. This gun, this 38-caliber, is the same type of gun that was used to kill Hannah Brown. And this phone”—Kimberley pointed at it, careful not to touch anything as it was evidence—“I dialed a number that was in Hannah’s call log. The same number that was listed on the emergency contact form at the daycare. This phone rang. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Kimberley