The Book Code: A Gripping Psychological Thriller with a Brilliant Twist (The Girl in the Book Box Set 2) by Dan Noble

Author:Dan Noble [Noble, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DB Co.
Published: 2018-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

23

MILLIE

Another sleepless night after catching Kennedy by the tackle box in the garden. I pretend to sleep and then when I hear Kennedy drive off to work, I rise to bathe and dress Rose for the day. I didn’t think he would leave me alone with her after the way he acted the other day, but I was glad for it.

I can’t know if he was looking for the box or had come across it by accident. It wouldn’t have been difficult the way I left it. I also can’t know whether he looked inside and put it back, or never got to that point. I know I mustn’t let on until I’ve got the facts straight. It’s just papers. I’m sure it’s just papers. What else would it be? Gestalt. Instinct.

The morning is sweltering. After breakfast I scrape my hair back into a bun, but it’s already wet at the roots just two shovel swings into the effort. Later, I’m sure to feel the sting from where the sun is burning my neck. I swing and dig, toss the dirt, swing again. Surely, I hadn’t buried it this deeply.

I hear Rose call for me and drop the shovel. There’s a hug, kickles, teeth brushing and breakfast. Then I settle her in front of Sesame Street, her book and charm necklace in hand, and head back out to the garden where I can see her through the large picture window. I still can’t believe Kennedy would leave her with me today. He must believe me about what happened the other day, that she magically ended up barricaded in there.

I dig until I’d made a mess of that corner of the garden, just alongside Kennedy’s impressive veggie patch. The tackle box isn’t there. He’s got it, hasn’t he? And if he does, then why hasn’t he said anything? Why am I so worried about it? I don’t believe I know what’s inside, and yet I feel a strong tug toward it. I sense whatever’s in there is monumental to me.

I look through the window at Rose. She’s just listening to Sesame Street, her attention on the book. It’s a normal scene, I tell myself. I replace the dirt and pack it as best I can.

Back inside, I pull up Google. I type the words: Dr. Pinocchio.

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