Chapter 28
Paradise had fallen asleep on the way to Nova Cambridge, and Blake kept stealing glances at her in the moonlight with her
long lashes fanned against her cheeks. She made several soft noises and he reached over to take her hand in case she was having
a nightmare. Everything lately had been about the refuge, and he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her find the person
who killed her parents.
They both kept thinking things would calm and there’d be time to focus on the reason she’d come back to Alabama, but that
someday hadn’t yet materialized. He had to move past his problems and see to hers. He loved her too much to let her stay in limbo
with all of it. She hadn’t even contacted her brother yet. Blake knew she was trying to help him first. That was love.
He parked at the side of Pawsome Pets and shut off the engine. She looked so peaceful sleeping with her head resting on the
door and the light shining on her beautiful face. Someday he’d wake up in the night and find her sleeping beside him, but
right now it seemed an impossible dream.
She cried out and her head thrashed back and forth. “No, no,” she moaned.
He leaned over and brushed her hair back off her cheek. “Babe, we’re home. It’s okay—I’m right here.”
She moaned again and opened her eyes. “Blake.” She bolted upright in the seat and reached for him.
He leaned over the console and pulled her to his side. “I think you were having a nightmare.”
“I remembered.” Her voice vibrated with desolation. “It was my fault. I let him in.”
He pressed his lips against the side of her head. “It was just a nightmare, my love. Let it go.”
She gulped in air. “It was the monkey. I knew there was something about the monkey that scared me. It was in my dream, but
it was real.”
“Are you sure it’s a memory and not remnants of the nightmare? Do you want to go inside, maybe get something to drink?”
“I—I think so. I need to process it all.”
He released her and climbed out of the truck, but before he could get around to the other side to open her door, she was out
and at the hood of the vehicle. She grabbed his hand in a death grip, and her hand trembled in his. Whatever she’d dreamed
had scared her badly.
He led her up the steps and unlocked the door. Both kittens met them when they entered. He flipped on the light in the kitchen
and went to get her something to drink. “Tea?”
She nodded, and he dispensed hot water from the fridge, then dropped a chamomile tea bag into the steaming cup. He made another
one for himself and carried them both to the living room. He put the tea on the coffee table before settling on the sofa and
pulling her into his lap. “You’re still shaking.”
“It was all my fault. No wonder I felt so guilty.”
“Babe, you were a kid. No matter what happened, you didn’t kill your parents. Some maniac did.” She buried her face in his
neck, and her tears dampened his skin. He held her close, murmuring consoling noises, but she still trembled.
He’d never seen her in such a desolate state, and he didn’t want to rush her into telling him before she was ready. If he
could take her pain, he would, but all he could do was hold her and try to absorb as much of it as possible. It didn’t feel
like enough.
She lifted her head and swiped at her wet cheeks. Tears still swam in her reddened eyes, and despair twisted her features.
“In my dream I couldn’t see who was at the door, but I threw it open for him because he had a music box with a monkey with
cymbals, just like the one in The Phantom of the Opera. I couldn’t wait to see one in real life. I can still remember how it felt to hold it and the way the monkey seemed to smile
with glee as he crashed the cymbals toward each other. I smiled, too, and barely noticed when he moved past me into the house.
He said he’d found it on the doorstep and was just there to take a look at our cable box.”
“Did he look at your TV?”
“I think so, but I can’t remember. I was too excited about the music box. I took it to my bedroom and played it until it was
bedtime.”
“So you never saw him leave? Babe, that might not have even been the murderer. It might really have been a cable repair guy
who fixed your box and left.”
“And he might have been lurking in one of the bedrooms until he was ready to make his move.”
He grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table and dabbed at the tears on her face, then mopped the moisture from his neck.
“I think your mom would have noticed.”
She took the tissue and dabbed at her eyes herself. “She was hanging clothes on the line in the backyard.”
“Maybe someone really did leave the monkey on the porch.”
“Who would have done that?” She jerked another tissue from the box. “Now that I’m starting to remember, maybe I’ll be able
to recall what he looked like. And this opens the pool of suspects. If it was a stranger I let in, I might not have known
him.”
She sank back against him, and he pulled her close. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to remember something that might put her
in the bull’s-eye of a madman.
Paradise studied the music box in front of her on the booth’s table inside University Grounds where she waited for Abby. The
monkey’s mocking smile made her shudder, but it was her imagination making it appear malevolent. It was just a music box,
not some supernatural trinket that cursed the owner.
The hiss of the steamer wand and the comforting scent of coffee and cinnamon filled the space and began to ease the tension
she’d felt ever since her nightmare. Though Blake had wondered if her memory was just a remnant of her nightmare, she was
positive it had really happened.
Abby arrived with her auburn hair windblown but still beautiful. She smiled when she spotted Paradise, who held up the cup
of coffee she’d already purchased for her friend. She slid the cup across the table when Abby approached. “A caramel macchiato,
extra hot.”
“Perfect. You’d think I would vary my choice, but I like routine.” Abby settled on the booth bench across from Paradise. Her attention went to the music box. “I wasn’t expecting to see this little guy. What’s up? Your text sounded mysterious and upset.”
Paradise touched the monkey’s cymbal. “When my parents died, do you remember me having a music box like this? I think I called
you when someone gave me one.”
Abby took a sip of her drink. “I think this is that same music box, Paradise. It looks just like it. Your signature should
be on it.” She picked up the music box and turned it upside down, then peeled off the envelope where Paradise had found the
tickets. “There it is.”
She flipped it around to show Paradise. “Look, you wrote your name in blue marker. When you went to foster care, the belongings
in the house were auctioned off. My dad bought it for me.” She made a face. “I wanted to give it to you, but my dad thought
it would make you sad so I delayed, and over the years it got buried in a box in our basement. I forgot all about it. How’d
you get it? I thought it was still in the basement at Dad’s ranch.”
Paradise stared at her name in a childish cursive. “I had a nightmare yesterday and remembered a cable guy handing this to
me and coming inside the night my parents died. When I woke I knew it was true.”
“It was. You called me very excited about it, and I came over to see it. The tune drove your mom crazy, and she made you put
it up after a couple of hours. You don’t remember me coming over?”
Paradise rubbed her forehead. “My memories of the weeks just before and after that day are very vague and jumbled. I wish
I could pluck them out of the fog.”
“I’m happy to share mine with you.” Abby’s smile reached deep into her brown eyes. “I was at your house the week before, and
we helped your mom make cupcakes, chocolate and vanilla.”
“With sprinkles,” Paradise whispered.
“And you made faces out of chocolate chips on some of them. I got to spend the night, and we watched The Phantom of the Opera. I hid my face through a lot of it and couldn’t understand why you loved it so much.” Abby turned on the music box and it
tinkled out the tune to “Masquerade” before she shut it off again. A few patrons turned their way. “Someone had to have known
you loved that movie.”
“I hadn’t thought that through, but you’re right.” Paradise took a sip of her mocha, a splurge from her usual black coffee.
“Maybe it really was a cable guy, and he found it on the step. Someone could have put it there and hoped I’d leave the door
unlocked after finding it.”
“Maybe. I doubt there are service records from that long ago. It’s been twenty years since they died.”
Twenty years yet the pain was still fresh. Paradise could see her parents’ faces so clearly in her mind, though their voices
had begun to fade from her memory. When she got a chance, she’d search the box Evan had found in his attic.
Abby set the music box back on the table. “I have to wonder why anyone would give this to you. It’s a little creepy. Why not
give you the soundtrack or maybe a masquerade mask?”
“It’s an important part of the movie though. The music plays in the Phantom’s lair, and it’s sold at the auction when the
movie begins.” But that didn’t explain why someone would give it to her. “Did I ever ask for one as a gift?”
“You didn’t mention it, but then, you might not have wanted to tell me because I thought it was beyond creepy. Not to change
the subject, but what did Blake say about Lloyd Adams?”
“I—I haven’t told him. I want to face Adams myself, and Blake would be upset and worried.
Not that it matters at this point since I can’t find him.
The police are looking for Adams but he’s vanished.
That priority has moved to the bottom of the list with all the problems at the park.
” At Abby’s questioning expression, Paradise wished she hadn’t mentioned it.
The whole thing with the will needed to be kept under wraps.
“You know about those.” Abby would assume it was only the money troubles.
“You can’t let Adams get away with his smear campaign.” Abby bit her lip and looked down at her hands. “I probably shouldn’t
mention it, but I saw his truck parked in front of Bea Davis’s house.”
The former sheriff’s widow had implicated her dead husband as a possible suspect in the murders. “Bea seemed to think her
husband was having an affair with Mom, but there’s no proof.” There were so many clues Paradise needed to investigate, but
there’d been no time.
Abby frowned. “I don’t think that’s true, Paradise.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Before Mom died I promised her
I wouldn’t say anything.”
Abby knew something. Was it about the adoption? “You can’t leave me hanging. If it’s about my missing half brother, I already
know about him.”
Abby exhaled. “Oh good. My mom said she thought Becky’s former boyfriend had started coming back around before your parents
died.”
Paradise forgot to breathe. “Who was he?”
“Mom would never tell me. She said it would be dangerous for me to know.”
And she was gone now. How could Paradise find someone who might know the identity of that mystery man in Mom’s life?