Page 125 of Trust No One

Her smile was sad. “Keep us posted about the funeral.”

“I will.”

The funeral for Maria and Gabe had been a distant thought. Truthfully, I had no idea if I was allowed to make those decisions. Gabe might have killed Amy and Maria, but he was still Molly’s father. I wouldn’t leave his body to rot. Not with her watching.

Judson started the engine. Panic knifed through me as I hooked my seat belt. How had it come to this? I caught Molly’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Do you like to listen to music?”

“Sometimes.”

Judson turned on a country music station with an upbeat melody about trucks. Molly stared out the window, silent, as the countryside blurred by.

Twenty minutes later, Hale House loomed through the gates.

Molly sat forward. “I know this place.”

“You do?”

“Amy used to bring me here sometimes.”

“Amy?” Judson asked. “Was she your friend?”

Molly’s expression shifted to regret and hesitation. “Yeah, I guess.”

Amy had brought Molly here. Treading carefully, I asked, “What did you think of it?” I asked.

“It’s big. Lots of closets.”

“Your mom and I used to play hide-and-seek in the attic when we were your age.” The car rumbled down the graveled driveway toward the house.

“One day it’s all going to be mine,” Molly said.

The statement struck me as odd. “Who said that?”

Molly yawned. “She said it was going to be hers and then mine.”

She. “Amy or Mommy?”

“Mommy.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, she was excited. She said when she sold it all, we’d be rich. I’m getting a new pink bike then.”

Judson’s head tilted slightly as he paid attention to the child’s patter. He likely sensed that any questions could shut down the flow of information.

He parked, shut off the engine, and helped Molly out of the car. We followed her up the stairs to the front door.

From my purse, I fished out the key and unlocked the dead bolt. Judson went first, checking the rooms as we wandered into the foyer.

“Are you hungry?” I asked Molly.

“A little.”

“Can I get you a bowl of cereal?”

“Okay.” Molly walked to the back door and stared out over the lawn. “Do the fairies live out there?”

“I think they do,” I said.