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in there.”

Kimberley took the folder and opened it up. The page was filled in with Hannah’s handwriting. Kimberley saw the contact information for the pharmacy, her mom, Hannah’s cell phone, and there was one number without a name.

“What’s this?” Kimberley asked. “There’s a phone number with no name or address.”

“Ah shoot. She must have forgot to fill that part in.”

“Mind if I take a picture of it?”

“Be my guest.”

Kimberley pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the contact form, focusing on the lone number with no other details, just ten digits in a row that may or may not have belonged to the murderer. It could just be a friend of Hannah’s, a co-worker, a house phone, but the way it was written just seemed odd. The first number was a four. A heavy dot of ink was at the top of it, like Hannah had held her pen down for too long, hesitating whether or not to write the number. The rest of it is a scribble, like a chicken scratch, as if she had made the decision as soon as she wrote the number four. Maybe Kimberley was looking too much into it. Maybe she had forgotten the number, held her pen down and then suddenly it came to her. Perhaps Kimberley was looking for something that wasn’t there. She closed up the folder before she started analyzing every letter and number Hannah had written down. Handing it back to Margaret, she thanked her.

“Anything else you can tell me about Hannah?”

“Well, she ran late dropping off Isobel in the mornings, and she just always looked tired. But she was a single working mom. So, that’s not unusual. She was never late picking Isobel up in the afternoon.” Margaret paused for a moment. “There’s not much I can really tell you. Hannah was a very nice woman and clearly a good mom who loved her daughter dearly. I’ve had Isobel in toddler care for two months and she’s an absolute joy.” Her eyes became a little misty.

“Thank you, Margaret. I appreciate your time.”

Margaret wiped her eyes. “No problem. Anything else I can help you with?”

“I think that’s everything for now.” Kimberley put away her notepad, pen, and phone. Standing up from her chair, she scooped up Jessica.

“I really hope you catch the person that did this,” Margaret said as Kimberley walked away. There was a sadness in her voice.

Kimberley turned back. “I will, Margaret. Have a good night,” she said, leaving the daycare center.

31

“Hey, Mom,” Kimberley said as she carried Jessica into the living room. Nicole sat on the couch reading a book with a half-naked cowboy on the cover. The smell of some sort of roast wafted through the home. On the coffee table sat a plate of grapes and cut-up cheese, a bottle of wine, Jessica’s sippy cup, and two glasses of wine, as if Nicole were waiting for Kimberley to join her.

“Hey.” Nicole closed up her book and placed it on the coffee table, exchanging it for a glass of wine. Her attention immediately went to Jessica. “Hi, sweetie.” Her voice increased a couple of octaves. Kimberley sat down beside her mom with Jessica on her lap.

Kimberley handed Jessica her sippy cup. She gripped the handles with both hands and took a drink while Kimberley popped a piece of cheese in her mouth and grabbed her glass of wine. The whole setup was clearly Nicole’s peace offering.

“Food won’t be ready for a while. I’m running late due to my hair appointment.”

Mid popping a grape in her mouth, Kimberley stopped and looked over at her mother. The gray that speckled and streaked her hair had been replaced by a deep chestnut color. She hadn’t even noticed how vibrant and shiny it looked.

“Mom, your hair looks stunning. I haven’t seen it look like that in years,” Kimberley gushed.

Nicole couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks. I figured I needed to change it up. Jessica learned the word ‘gray’ the other day, and she started pointing at my hair, saying ‘gray’ over and over again.”

Kimberley laughed, handing a sliced grape to Jessica.

“She has your honesty. There’s no doubt about that.”

“Yu… mmy,” Jessica said as she popped it in her mouth.

“That’s right. Can you say ‘grape’?” Nicole leaned into her granddaughter, sounding the word out.

“Gape,” Jessica squealed. Then she repeated it over and over until it sounded more like ‘grape.’

“Good girl.” Nicole ran her hand down the side of her head.

“Is everyone still mad at me?” Kimberley asked, taking more than a sip of wine.

“Mad? No. Unsettled? Absolutely.”

“Mommmm,” Kimberley groaned. She ate a piece of cheese and then a grape and then a piece of cheese.

“I think Wyatt is more embarrassed than anything. I don’t think he’s upset with you. He’s been keeping busy on the farm, trying to double up wheat orders and expanding Emily’s garden. Emily is looking at refinancing their mortgage again, and David is helping them sell off some of the farm equipment they don’t use or need,” Nicole explained.

“Well, that’s good then. Right?”

Nicole shrugged her shoulders. “It might be enough to keep them afloat. David said he’ll take a chunk out of his retirement to keep the farm going.”

“Admirable.” Kimberley nodded.

“This is his family’s legacy. He’ll do anything to keep it going.” Nicole stared off at the wall as she fiddled with her wine glass. “But I think you should try to stay clear of David and Emily, or at the least not antagonize them until they cool off.”

“Noted.”

“I heard you have a lead in your case.”

Kimberley’s eyes went wide. “Who said that?”

“My hairstylist’s daughter, Michelle. She works at the pharmacy, said you were asking about Hannah’s secret boyfriend.” Nicole raised an eyebrow.

Heavy footsteps pounded against the floor, across the kitchen, through the dining room, and into the living room. David stood in the doorway covered in mud and sweat and dressed in overalls. He gave Nicole a small smile.

“She said she wasn’t one for gossip.” Kimberley rolled her eyes. “It’s just a hunch.”

David looked

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