2
Theo.” He greeted her first, extending his hand as Mandy gingerly climbed onto the front porch, navigating several missing boards. “For Theodore. Because, you know, Thaddeus would’ve been too much.”
He flashed that dimple again, and Mandy nearly tripped. Dear Lord, no man should be that handsome…charming…dynamic. She had to forcefully resist pinching him to ensure he was flesh and blood.
“Raquel.” The wife gave Mandy a knowing look. “Yes, he really is quite obnoxious. The trick is not to make eye contact. When we’re arguing, I purposefully stare at his earlobe just so I have a shot at winning.”
Mandy thought Mrs. Collins was one to talk. The woman, probably around Mandy’s age, seemed more restrained than her husband, but that was only fair. If both of them exuded his wattage, it’d be like peering at the sun.
“Chief Grady,” Mandy managed belatedly. “Just wanted to introduce myself in person, see how you were settling in.”
“Grady.” The wife tilted her head. “We know that name…”
“The news articles,” Theo provided. “From, you know, the incident.”
Ah, so that was going to be their euphemism for the missing family of six who mysteriously vanished from this couple’s now home sweet home, leaving behind only a trail of bloody footprints and an enduring mystery.
“Chief Grady,” Raquel murmured in agreement. “But you’re too young…”
“My father.”
“That explains it.” Theo, all good cheer. “Come on in. You’re welcome to check out the place. And us, of course. We seem to have garnered some interest.”
Mandy removed her hat, following them into the yawning interior, and immediately saw their point—the long farmer’s table parked in the dining room was covered with various casseroles, baked goods, and fresh floral bouquets.
“Small pond, new fishes,” Mandy explained, nodding her head in their direction.
She couldn’t help but look around. Last time she’d been inside the house, the interior had been a dark, gloomy space, illuminated only by the glow of her flashlight.
It’d been easy to picture violent deeds and unsettled spirits as the beam had swept over dust-covered boards, heavily cobwebbed corners, and debris-littered floor.
Mandy made it a point to pick up the omnipresent collection of empty beer cans and pizza boxes every few months.
But where there was the promise of danger, the kids would always continue to flock, eating, drinking, and fornicating along the way.
She was grateful that the Collinses had purchased the vacant home if only for the reduction in her and her officers’ workload.
Now, she of all people could appreciate the already meticulously buffed and polished great room.
The wide-planked floors still had roughly patched holes in places, not to mention several large sections carved out of the drywall to provide the subs access to wires and pipes, but the Collinses hadn’t wasted any time setting the interior to rights.
A richly colored Oriental rug had been positioned in front of the fireplace, topped by an eclectic mix of reclaimed wooden tables, a modern black leather sofa, and what appeared to be 1920s green velvet armchairs. Above the mantel hung a battered steering wheel from a historic whaler.
Because of the shape of the room, Mandy deduced. With the angled walls of glass forming the prow of a ship.
Beside her, Raquel smiled slightly, as if pleased Mandy got the reference.
“Something to drink?” Theo spoke up. “Or, let’s see.
” He turned his attention to the loaded table.
“Um, we have chocolate chip cookies, what appears to be a carrot cake, some zucchini bread, two jars of homemade jam, and oh, brownies, topped with what I think are chopped-up candy bars. Maybe Heath, Snickers, or Three Musketeers. Maybe all three?”
“You have Mrs. Karlson’s brownies?” Mandy was immediately at attention.
“Older woman?” Raquel inquired.
“That’s half the town.”
“Sharply dressed—smart-looking fuchsia jacket, giant strand of pearls.”
“I will absolutely take a brownie.”
“Stuff of legend?” Theo asked.
“Absolutely. Worth every calorie.” Should she be discussing such things with two physically perfect specimens?
Theo, however, handed out brownies all around. When Raquel took a hearty bite, Mandy warmed to the gorgeous brunette considerably.
“So, rumor is you’re planning on turning this place into a B and B?” Mandy asked through a mouthful of chocolate.
“We’re still exploring options.”
“Great home to start a family.” It was a deliberately leading question, her father’s favorite kind.
Now the husband and wife shared a look Mandy couldn’t quite decipher. A tinge of sadness? A note of apology? Or regret?
They turned toward her as an expressionless unit, clearly not big on personal revelations. Fair enough.
“Please, have a seat.” Raquel led the way to the sofa and chairs. “As you can imagine, we have some questions.”
“About the town?” Playing dumb, another one of her father’s strategies. Mandy already assumed the Collinses’ new community wouldn’t be their main concern. And sure enough:
“Your dad, he was the first on scene that night?” Theo, doing the honors. “He must’ve talked about it.”
“No one ever found a single trace of the family?” Raquel arched a brow. Mandy was beginning to recognize the tell. The brunette, pretending to play it cool. As if there wasn’t a sudden charged current in the air.
Mandy finished up her last bite of brownie. It really was damn good. Then she gazed out the jutting expanse of windows, the view so vast and clear they could indeed have sailed off into the pewter-gray sky.
Some folks theorized the two parents and four kids had raced out into the storm and in the dark fallen off Widow’s Peak.
Except why, when, how? Not to mention no bodies were ever found.
Others speculated about a possible mafia hit.
Or vengeful business partners determined to take out Dave Dixon and his entire family over a perceived slight.
Maybe he’d had a lover who’d angrily destroyed the entire family.
Or maybe she’d had a lover who’d angrily destroyed the entire family.
Theories, rumors, increasingly wilder and wilder ideas. So many had cropped up over the past thirty years. And still, no breakthrough discovery on what had actually transpired.
Ambiguous loss. The term for a tragic incident without any closure. A loved one never seen again following a natural disaster. A soldier listed as MIA after heading off to war. A plane disappearing mid-flight without a trace of the wreckage.
Could an entire town spend three decades suffering from ambiguous loss, existing in a state of frozen grief?
Mandy’s father had certainly thought so.
“You must’ve done your own homework,” she commented at last, tone neutral.
“We read all the newspaper accounts,” Theo volunteered readily. “Plus watched the TV episode. That footage was something else. The image of all the family’s jackets hanging next to the door, shoes lined up below. The partially consumed food and wine waiting on the table. Talk about CAF.”
Creepy as fuck. Not a term Mandy’s father had ever used, but one that definitely fit.
“Their vehicle in the garage,” Raquel murmured. “Her purse, his wallet, car keys sitting on the entryway table. Plus all their personal possessions still in the bedrooms.”
Mandy nodded. These details were well known, the stuff of local legend/real-world ghost stories.
The entire family, spotted out and about several times during the previous day.
The kids running around the village green, Dave Dixon grabbing some caulking for a drafty window, Janet swinging by the library to drop off her last load of well-thumbed paperbacks.
Not a mood, step, action to indicate anything was amiss. And yet, within twenty-four hours…
“From everything we’ve read,” Theo continued, “sounds like the family vanished sometime Tuesday night? Given the half-consumed food still sitting out, that kind of thing.”
Mandy nodded. That was the prevalent theory.
“The entire town lost power that night, correct?” Raquel’s turn. “Due to a bad thunderstorm? Surely there must be record of when the electrical grid went dark?”
Oh, there were records all right. Not to mention her father’s personal storyboard, an entire wall of his office covered with crime scene photos, interview statements, and weather charts, many linked by an ever-expanding mass of colored strings as he sought to connect the dots.
Growing up, Mandy had been under strict orders never to enter her father’s study.
So naturally she did so every chance she got, spending hours staring at the four beaming Dixon children.
In the standard gray backdrop school photos, they looked perfectly normal.
Henry, Violet, Josie, and William. She could picture them sitting beside her in a classroom, especially William, who’d been only a year older.
Or attending driver’s ed, going to the prom, celebrating graduation with wild cheers and a toss of their mortarboards in the air.
Except they never did any of those things.
Instead, they became a white noise of tragedy, buzzing through the town day after day, year after year, decade after decade.
The Dixon family disappeared one stormy night. Their ghosts, however, remained firmly entrenched in the community, including Mandy’s own house.
Theo and Raquel were still waiting patiently for her answer.
“The power went out a little after six,” Mandy granted. “At least, that’s what I remember reading.”
“And the next day?” Theo asked. “What time did your father arrive at the house?”
“Shortly after five. The postmistress was just locking up for the day when she noticed the dog.”
“The Dixons had a dog?” For the first time, the couple appear surprised. “We never read about a family dog,” Raquel continued.
“I don’t think it was an actual pet, more like a stray that’d taken to hanging around.
I never heard what happened to the dog afterward.
Probably went back to its nomadic ways.” Her father had spent months trying to find that dog.
Called area shelters, put up posters, contacted vets.
The dog named Dog, who’d befriended the four Dixon kids and was last seen sitting on the front porch, howling in misery as blood dried on its fur.
Her father had found a snapshot some tourist had taken of the canine. The Polaroid had been tacked up next to the children’s photos, growing increasingly blurry and green tinged, as if bruised by time itself.
“What kind of dog?” Raquel asked.
Mandy shrugged. Details about the dog had been purposefully withheld by her father. She saw no reason to change that now.
“Twenty-four hours,” Theo mused finally, “between the loss of power and arrival of the police. A lot can happen in twenty-four hours.”
Mandy didn’t disagree.
“Sounds like the search efforts were quite extensive.” Raquel again. “County sheriff, state police, even the National Guard spent months combing the woods, roadways, rivers, and streams.”
Again, Mandy didn’t disagree.
“But they never found so much as a sock, hair clip, wristwatch?” Theo mused.
She shook her head.
“Did they ever test the blood?”
Raquel’s question was so abrupt, it caught Mandy off guard.
For a moment, her mind blanked, her expression slipped.
Well played. If only Mandy understood the exact nature of the game.
Because it felt to her as if there was something more driving this seemingly polite Q and A; she just didn’t know what.
She fell back onto one of her father’s tricks, stretching out the moment, slowing the other party’s momentum. She leaned forward in her chair, planted her elbows on her thighs and regarded Raquel and Theo thoughtfully.
“Lotta money in true crime,” she commented at last, doing some fishing of her own. “And alleged paranormal activity slash unsolved mysteries. If you were going to turn this place into a B and B, not a bad business plan.”
“This is our home now,” Raquel countered coolly. “What happened here thirty years ago is a bit more personal than a marketing hook.”
Mandy cocked her head to the side, studied her hosts intently.
“Blood from the footprints was collected and tested,” Mandy allowed, as that was public knowledge.
“DNA results?” Theo.
“Inconclusive.”
“DNA has come a long way since the late nineties.” Raquel exchanged a glance with her husband. “Even if they didn’t get any hits before, I imagine there’s more that could be learned now.”
“Does the town, or would it be the state, still have samples in storage?” Theo asked.
Mandy shrugged. “The attorney general’s office has a cold case unit. I’d start by contacting them.”
Another silent marital exchange.
“What about you?” Theo returned his focus to her, working that grin.
“You grew up in this town, with your neighbors gossiping, your father investigating. Must’ve felt for a while that everything came back to that one night, that one family.
I bet you have some theories about the Dixons’ vanishing act. ”
“Do you believe they’re dead?” Raquel pushed, voice softer.
Mandy genuinely couldn’t answer that question. Her father had never been able to make such a statement. And maybe because of that, even now, the words remained stuck in her throat.
“I think…” She paused, convinced this conversation within a conversation had gone on long enough. “I think we still have no idea what happened that night. But logically, if no trace of a single family member has been found after all this time…”
“The family died that night.” Raquel. “Meaning…”
“Someone in this town got away with murder? Plenty around here have definitely wondered. And on that note”—Mandy rose to standing, placed her hat squarely on her head—“welcome to the neighborhood.”