Secrets in a Still Life, Kari Ganske [best fiction books to read .TXT] 📗

of the women are?" I asked. Maybe we could have a little chat with them, you know, being friendly neighbors and all.

"Only through rumors and speculation. But my dad plays poker with Mike and a bunch of other guys on Wednesday nights. I heard him mention that Mike hasn't been coming the last few weeks. But he has been telling Missy that's where he's going," Colleen said.

"We have to follow him," I blurted out. "Do you think he'll go tomorrow night?"

"Normally, I'd say no. His wife just died; you'd think he'd have a little more respect." Colleen tapped a purple nail on her lips. "But this is Mike Vandenburg we're talking about. Couldn't hurt to try."

"You're willing to go with me? Just like that?" I asked, genuinely grateful to have such a great friend.

"Are you kidding? Every episode of Forensic Files I've binged has led me to this very moment. Plus," she added with a smirk, "who's gonna keep you from falling through a window or smashing into yet another sign?"

"Ha ha, funny guy," I said, but I smiled too. Colleen wasn't wrong. I'd be even more impeded if my ankle didn't miraculously heal by tomorrow night.

"Soooo, I've been trying to think of a way to ask without sounding like a complete creep, but—" Colleen started.

I cut her off, "You want to see the picture."

"Please?" Colleen asked, wrinkling up her nose. I understood completely—the same morbid curiosity drove me to look more closely at Missy's body in the woods.

"Grab my computer and hard drive from my bedroom."

Colleen practically ran up the stairs.

"And some ibuprofen!" I added. If I was going on an adventure tomorrow night, I needed my body to cooperate. From a vast number of prior experiences, I knew I always hurt worse the day after a fall. Like the time I was taking pictures of a memorial procession in India, backed up to get a better angle, and stepped right off the edge of a small cliff. I saved my camera. My back and head? Not so much. I was stiff for a week.

Colleen made it back downstairs in record time. She fetched me a glass of water while I booted up the computer and navigated to the saved photos. Hard to believe this was only a few days ago. I took the pill and opened the photo file.

Colleen sucked in a breath, then let it out, and leaned closer to the screen. "What am I looking at? I mean it's a great picture of the birds, but is this the right photo?"

I zoomed in to the area behind the bush with the cardinals. I pointed to the lighter part among the grass and detritus covering the ground. "Here."

"Oh my goodness! That's it? How did you even notice that?" she asked, clearly disappointed.

"It was drawing my eye away from the birds. I wanted to see how easy it would be to crop it out," I explained. Again.

"Hmph. You can't even see the cause of death." Colleen flung herself back on the couch, arms crossed. "At least the birds are pretty. You can totally crop her out."

"Colleen! I'm not actually going to use this photo," I exclaimed. Just what I needed—some mommy blogger using this photo and then finding out later it was a crime scene.

"It's a great picture!" Colleen started scrolling through the rest of the shoot. "These are all great. Okay, fine. You have others that are equally as amazing."

"Thanks," I said.

"So, tell me all about your day with Linc," Colleen said.

"Nothing to tell. I cleaned up the firehouse desktop; he iced my ankle." I shrugged.

"Boring." Then Colleen's eyes sparkled. "Unless 'iced my ankle' is a euphemism for—Hey!" she shouted, catching the pillow I threw at her head.

"Honestly, I spent a good portion of the day searching for apartment rentals. I love my parents, but I need to get out of here. I'm used to being on my own." I thought of the apartment I'd shared with Wreck-it Rick for the last year. "Or mostly on my own."

"Come on, then. Let's go look! I'll be your chauffeur."

"I'm supposed to be icing and elevating," I said evasively, gesturing to my ankle. As much as I wanted to move out, I wanted to move out to New York, not find a place here in Piney Ridge.

"No excuse. You can bring the ice. And elevate when you get home."

I bit my lip. Was I ready to take this step toward permanence? Was I willing to not take that step and stay at my parents’ house?

"Come on," Colleen whined. "I'm bored. We can drive by and at least look if you don't want to tour any."

Before I could respond, the front door slammed open, making us both jump. Nana K stood there in thick stockings, thicker glasses, and a scarf covering her shock of white hair. Or at least it used to be white.

"Nana K!" Colleen exclaimed. "What do you have going on under that babushka?"

She whipped off the scarf to reveal a pink- and purple-ombre pixie cut. "Whaddya think?" she asked.

I smiled so broad I thought my face might break. "Nana, I missed you so much. It looks perfect."

Nana K shuffled over to where I had my foot propped on the coffee table. She leaned over to give me a light kiss on the forehead. Then did the same to Colleen.

"The other ladies in the community think I'm nuts for this hair. I told them I may be nuts, but I'm not dead."

"Of course you did," I said fondly.

"Your mother called to tell me what happened," Nana K explained. "I came to see if you needed anything. Cheesecake? Pierogis? I'll make whatever you want."

Before I could open my mouth to say, "Yes, please," Colleen cut me off. "I'm trying to convince