Into the Sound by Cara Reinard

Author:Cara Reinard [Reinard, Cara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2021-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

There were cop cars in the driveway when Holly arrived home with Tyler. A female detective with a cue-ball haircut stood on the porch—Nadia.

Holly staggered out of the car. Tyler followed. “I’m sorry; I’m having a migraine,” she said to Nadia. “How much was taken?”

Nadia shot Holly a cursory glance. “Nothing, actually.”

“What?” Holly asked.

“Did they take the Xbox?” Tyler asked worriedly. Holly hadn’t done a great job in the car comforting her younger son about what’d happened, only telling him that they had insurance for these types of things and that anything taken would be replaced. Not that she should make those types of promises. Mark would have to agree the lost items were worth replacing.

“No, the electronics are all here, by your dad’s account,” Nadia said.

Tyler blew out a sigh of relief, and Nadia remained unfazed.

As Holly walked in the door, she saw that all their drawers had been removed and overturned, the uneasiness twisting her guts like a dishrag. What a mess. She placed her hand over her chest, imagining someone else in her house touching her things. “Wow. What were they looking for?” Holly asked.

“Exactly.” Nadia shot her a much longer look than the last. Holly peered down at her hands.

Tyler started to cry. Holly grabbed his shoulder. Otto walked in the living room from the kitchen and took refuge under Holly’s other arm. It was good; she needed them to hold her up with her headache and the feelings of nervousness coursing through her veins.

She could hear Mark upstairs talking to someone. Holly and the boys followed Nadia to the master bedroom. Detective Rigby was standing next to Mark with a notepad, likely taking inventory of everything that had been stolen.

All her jewelry was overturned from the box, but nothing seemed to be missing. Mark was palming a gold watch given to him by his grandfather, undoubtedly, the one thing he was sure he’d lost. He looked angry, though, as he bounced it in his hands, and Holly just assumed it was because of the mess and the cost of the broken glass on the front door, where the criminal had gotten in.

“Hi, honey,” Holly said.

Mark didn’t answer. He only shot daggers at her with his eyes.

“It’s awful, isn’t it? What did they get? Did the neighbor scare them off before they could take anything?” They lived on a busy street.

Mark’s vein was pushed out in his neck, jaw clenched. He nodded at Detective Rigby.

Holly turned in the detective’s direction, and it was only then that she noticed her planner was flipped over on the bed, its pages partly ripped out. The detective was eyeing it strangely, and Holly understood why. It wasn’t something a common thief would likely go after, unless they were looking for something else. She didn’t have to examine the inside to know the computer printouts from the library, her evidence, were gone.

Then she remembered the missing page. The one from Vivian’s Google Hangouts that she couldn’t account for when she was trying to read in her car after leaving the courthouse.

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