Page 104 of Rekindle My Heart

That had been one of the messages from Ryan early in the week. They still didn’t have proof he tampered with her regulator, but she couldn’t think of anyone else who would have a reason to. “Yes, I can’t believe Tony was involved.”

“He may have been covering up for someone else. I have been looking into those… incidents. You know. Anyway, I keep copies on my reports when I file them. Wyatt’s house fire was definitely electrical, but nothing pointed to arson.”

“Then why cover it up?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going keep looking into it.”

“And his accident? Have you looked into that?” Erica hadn’t found anything to support her belief that his car had been tampered with. She held her breath, not sure if she wanted to be right or wrong.

“I did. I know the mechanic who took his car in.”

A car honked, startling her. She was so focused on what Walker would say, she’d forgotten to go when the light changed.

“There was no tampering.”

“Really? How can that be?”

“Erica, my friend documented everything. Not only was it an accident but I found out his last text was to his wife.”

“Okay. What does that prove?”

“They had a fight right before the crash.” He sighed. “It looks like he was distracted driving.”

Speaking of distractions, she shook her head and focused on the road. “Well, thanks for checking.”

“That doesn’t explain the changed files—Wyatt’s or the others. Maybe the police will find a connection when they finish their investigation.” The alarm sounded in the background. “Shoot. Gotta go.”

The line went dead. Erica drove the rest of the way home in deep thought. If no one messed with Wyatt’s car, and it was truly an accident, then… Her brain was starting to hurt just thinking about it.

Either way, they still had a cover-up going on. But did it tie to the police corruption? She hoped Ryan would find out soon. His message only said Johnson hired Winters to keep an eye on her and to wipe her laptop files.

Unless Tony confessed, they might not have a way to tie him to the fire report tampering.

Once home, she carried the boxes as far as her kitchen table. Karma gave them a thorough sniffing. “They good, boy?”

He deemed them okay to be in the house, then went to his food bowl.

“Sorry I’m late.” Karma could be a prima donna when it came to his dinner times.

She filled his bowls and opened the refrigerator to see if she had anything quick and easy for dinner.

When no tasty four-course meal magically appeared, she pulled out the milk. Sniffed it.

“Still good. Cereal it is.” She took her Cheerios to the table.

As she took the first bite, she eyed the boxes. No time like the present. She flipped open one of the box lids. The top row was all paperbacks. She picked up one and read the back cover. As she was about to put it back, she spied a leather-bound book. Her forehead crinkled. She set down her spoon and pulled out the book.

A diary? Not hers. Sarah’s? She hadn’t known her sister kept a diary.

She ran a hand over the spine and cover. A one-inch clasp held it closed. She shouldn’t read it. She set it on the top of the box and finished her cereal. Her attention strayed to the book over and over. She had so many questions when Sarah died. So many blanks in the story of her sister’s life. Until recently, Erica thought she knew almost everything about her sister.

Maybe it would give her a clue as to her sister’s mood before she died. The police ruled her death an accident, but Erica always wondered if she and Ryan being together pushed her to drive off that bridge. Yes, she’d been drinking according to the toxicology report, but… What was she thinking?

She gave the book one more glance. It held her sister’s private thoughts, words. She shouldn’t. Scooting the chair back, she carried her bowl to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. The numbers on the microwave reminded her she had to go to bed. She had a wedding to go to tomorrow. Ryan would be there. Hell, half the town would be in attendance. She started for the bedroom and stopped.

She pivoted. Nibbling on her thumbnail, she thought about it. She moved closer. She couldn’t send it to the donations. No. She should at least take it out of the box.

She carried the diary into the bedroom with her. Dropping it on the bed, she went to do her nightly routine.