Page 179 of Trust No One

“I left them on.”

“You okay?” His voice held an edge, though something tender tugged against it.

“I’m okay,” I rushed to say. “I was lying down with Molly.”

Cold air rushed as he stepped inside the foyer. I shut the door behind him, wishing he’d been here last night.

Chilly hands cupped my face as he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. Relieved to see him, I fisted his cool jacket and pulled him a little closer.

For a moment, he said nothing. But tension rippled up his body. “Rough night?”

“This house . . .” My throat tightened.

His gaze softened. “It’s a lot.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

He laid his hands on my shoulders. “The exhumation will now be today, not next week. The funeral home will also dig Maria’s and Gabe’s graves today.”

“That was quick.”

“Better to get it done.”

The air trapped in my lungs slowly released. “Okay. When will they be here today? I need to get Molly out of here so she doesn’t see it.”

“Morning. No specific time.”

“So fast.”

“Sooner is better than later.”

“Okay, sure. Molly should be up soon.” I rubbed my eyes. “Can I make you a coffee?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

He followed me into the kitchen. “How did it go with Molly last night?”

“We spent a chunk of the evening searching for ghosts.” I busied myself with a fresh filter for the coffee machine and extra scoops of grounds.

“Find anything?”

“No spirits, but I did discover something that was very odd in Mom’s old room.”

He dipped his head closer. “Can’t wait.”

“It appears Amy was living in the primary suite closet. There’s a mattress, blankets, and a lamp. There’s also a trunk with clothes, a scrapbook featuring me, and a collection of handwritten notes. The notes are written in Maria’s handwriting.” None of this made sense. How did Amy get the notes?

A frown creased his brow. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“It was one in the morning. And what could you do about it at that time of night?”

“I would’ve come.” His tone was grave, sincere.

A smile teased my lips. “I know.”

“How long has it been since you were in the room?”

“Seventeen years. Once it was cleaned out, I closed it and never looked back.”