Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
EIGHT YEARS AGO
T he police had come—all ten officers who served their small town. Flashing lights were everywhere, a somber reminder of what had happened.
Paramedics were also on the scene, and one had examined her—listening to her heart and shining a light in her eyes.
The other two paramedics had gone inside, though she wasn’t sure why.
Her four family members were definitely dead. There was no reviving them or helping them. Taking them to the hospital wouldn’t change anything.
A cry clogged her throat.
She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that was true.
She knew she’d have to deal with her shock later. Right now, she needed to answer the police’s questions.
The police chief himself, Chief Maier—who also went to her father’s church—had taken the lead on this case. The man was in his fifties with thick salt-and-pepper hair, a trim figure, and a squarish face. He seemed kind enough when Olive had talked to him in the past.
She sat in the back of his car with him now, the heat blaring. A blanket had been placed over her shoulders, and she’d been given a bottle of water. She tried to force herself to take a few sips, but she felt as if she were going to throw up.
“Ollie, I need you to walk me through what happened.” The chief’s voice remained soft but determined.
She knew there was an urgency to find the person who did this before he got too far away. She’d watched enough shows on TV to remember that.
The events of the night flashed into her mind. Sneaking out to go to that party seemed like something that happened months ago, not mere hours.
If her dad was still alive, he wouldn’t want her sharing with anyone at the church that she had a wild side. But now, none of that mattered. The truth would come out one way or another.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Olive told the chief about sneaking out. About going to the party. About returning home to find her family.
He narrowed his eyes. “When did you leave your house?”
“11:30.”
“Are there people at the party who can verify you were there?”
His question sent shockwaves through her. Was the chief implying that she might be guilty? Was he actually checking her alibi?
“Yes.” The word came out defensive and harsh. “There were a lot of people at the party who can verify I was there.”
He studied her before nodding slowly. “For your sake, I hope you’re right. Because I heard things were tense between you and your parents.”
Another burst of outrage rushed through her.
“Who told you that?” The information didn’t seem like something her father would share, especially not with the police chief.
He shrugged. “It’s not important. It’s a small town. People talk.”
His words reverberated in her mind. “Please tell me you’re not implying I did this? I could never hurt my family.”
Olive had felt fairly strong until this moment.
Now, her voice cracked. Her limbs began to tremble. Nausea roiled inside her.
How could Chief Maier think this?
He patted the air with his hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m just trying to sort through everything.”
Olive doubted that.
Chief Maier shifted toward her as if switching gears. “Let me try a different angle. Did your father have any enemies?”
She wracked her brain, trying to come up with anyone who may not have seen eye to eye with her dad. The list almost seemed too long, and she didn’t even know where to start.
Jason filled her mind—but not because he was an enemy of her father’s. He came to mind because Olive wished he was here with her right now. He would know what to do. He’d always been her rock.
Even though Olive had promised her father she wouldn’t be in touch with Jason, she wondered if any of that mattered anymore. Maybe she could call him. Ask him to come.
Would he? Or had he moved on? Had he met someone else and forgotten all about her?
It seemed like a good possibility. After all, Jason was not only smart and handsome, but he had just enough kindness to make him extremely likable while still being manly.
Olive had missed him every day since she left.
“Ollie?” Chief Maier continued to stare at her, and she remembered that he’d asked her a question.
She tried to take a sip of her water, but her hands trembled so badly that water sloshed from the mouth of the bottle and onto her blanket.
She gave up and tried to twist the cap back on. But she couldn’t do that either.
Chief Maier took the bottle from her and put the cap back on it before placing it on the seat between them.
“Is there anyone you can think of who might have done this?” he asked again.
She cleared her throat, which felt thick and swollen. “There was a guy that came into the church the other day. He wanted the church to give him money to pay his mortgage because he was behind on the payments and about to lose his house. My dad said the man acted high.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What did your dad tell him?”
“From what I understood, Dad explained that he wasn’t authorized to simply give out that amount of money without talking to the benevolence committee first. He also recommended several places where the man might be able to get the help he needed—both financially and for his addiction.”
The chief let out a soft hmm. “How did this man react?”
“He was upset. That’s what my dad said at least. He started saying all kinds of hateful things about the church and how we were selfish and only cared about people who were just like us.” She glanced at her trembling hands in her lap. “My dad sounded pretty upset about it.”
“Do you know the name of this man?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. But I didn’t ask. I didn’t think it was important at the time. But maybe Barb, the secretary, would know.”
“I’ll talk to her.” He shifted. “Anyone else?”
Her mind continued to race back in time. Olive wasn’t supposed to talk about all the places her family had lived previously, so it would be hard to give the chief an honest answer. Besides, her dad had changed their names whenever they moved. Their first names always stayed the same, but their last names changed.
She remembered once when she’d been in Texas, she’d heard two men come to the house in the middle of the night. Her dad had argued with them, and it had sounded heated.
When she’d asked her dad about it the next morning, he’d brushed it off and said it was some guys from work who were unhappy about some business practices. Said they were trying to get a group of people together to get their boss fired, and they wanted Dad to be on board.
Dad had also said it was adult stuff, and that Olive shouldn’t worry about it. So that was exactly what she’d tried to do.
But she remembered the next morning her mom had looked so worried.
Only a couple of weeks later they’d ended up moving. Olive hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now looking back . . . maybe there was more to that story than her parents had let on.
If she continued to think back even further, she was sure there would be more people.
But she was still unsure how much to say.
“Is there anybody else you can think of?” Chief Maier studied her face.
She hesitated before shaking her head. “Maybe. I just can’t think straight right now.”
Her words were true. Her thoughts were too scattered.
“Did anything else look strange at your house tonight?” he asked.
That was when she remembered that the trash cans had been moved. She’d figured the killer had moved them to cut the power to the house. But he wouldn’t have needed to do that. Most likely, he could have reached over them.
What if the killer had moved the trash cans for other reasons?
She drew her gaze up to the chief’s. “Was there any sign of forced entry?”
“No,” the chief said. “Not that we’ve found yet.”
A sick feeling grew in her stomach.
“Ollie?”
She squeezed the skin between her eyes as tears began to pour down her cheeks. “I left my window unlocked when I snuck out. When I got back home, the trash cans were moved. I always use them when I sneak out at night. One of the first things I noticed when I got back from the party was the trash cans weren’t in the same place I left them.”
“What are you getting at?” The chief tilted his head.
“I think this guy moved the trash cans so he could climb up on the roof and then get inside through my window.” A sob escaped from her. “This is all my fault.”
Then before she could stop it, the contents of her stomach rose in her throat.
Olive vomited all over the chief’s car.