Page 95 of You'll Be Sorry

“What if these recordings”—he tapped the longer accounts—”take up twice the space because theyaretwice as long? There are entries within the entries. The sentences you can see, sandwiched between sentences you can’t see. May I?”

He eased out one of the pages in question. Then, in a move that made Betty gasp, he carried it straight to the fireplace. Raquel and the older woman quickly followed, the dog trotting alongside in anticipation.

The fire had burned down considerably, but still offered a warm glow. Theo held up the aged paper in front of it, moving closer until Raquel could feel Betty vibrate with tension.

Then, faint at first, but with increasing clarity, letters began toappear. True to Theo’s prediction, sentences within the sentences, an entry within each entry.

“My word,” Betty exhaled. “What is that? Some kind of invisible ink?”

“Easy enough to concoct from a number of common household ingredients—lemon juice, vinegar, baking soda.” Theo shrugged. “I was partial to lemon juice myself when I went through my spycraft phase as a kid. Can’t you totally see me as Collins, Theo Collins?”

He struck a commanding pose, then, when neither of them appeared particularly impressed, drew back from the fire. Betty practically snatched the diary page out of his hands.

“Secret notes,” she muttered. “A story within the story. Something she didn’t want anyone else to know.”

“Containing secrets still worth stealing,” Raquel mused, “even after all of these years?”

Theo appeared troubled, his thoughts clearly having gone to a darker place. “Or secrets still worth killing for.”

30

Mandy was hitting a wall, the past three sleepless nights catching up with her. Debs from the FAIR lab had finally arrived with an assistant to sort out bones for as long as the snow held off. Major Crimes and the ME’s office planned on arriving the following day, in order to avoid the worst of the weather. So many official people with big, important titles descending upon one tiny mountain town. Mandy was grateful the victims warranted such attention. Good for them, in an ironic sort of way.

But fuck it all, she’d sell her soul for a few minutes’ rest.

It didn’t help that Mason had been blowing up her phone since oh-dark-thirty. Demanding to know what the volunteer firefighters were doing. Accusing Raquel Collins of theft and asserting she should be arrested and said property returned immediately. Then, as the sky had lightened and the town began buzzing with speculation, insisting on a thorough update on behalf of the entire community.

Mandy currently had that filed under things to do when she was dead.

This particular section of jutting granite was surrounded by woods, per New Hampshire geography 101. Austin’s crew had quickly identified a path from the road above that led down to the base of the ledge much more efficiently than driving through Raquel and Theo’s property.

Now Mandy trudged up the trail to her vehicle. She was thinking of old crimes, new happenings. Mentally processing a literal field of bones, while also seeking to understand various ancillary findings—a rusted-out metal lock that spoke of centuries past, a faded granola bar wrapper that hinted at century present.

People had known about the cave, that much was true.

And then…they hadn’t?

Austin had disappeared the moment the anthro had arrived on scene. Mandy had never seen the fire chief so rattled. “The entire family…in a cave? Makes no sense, makes no sense. Makes no sense.”

Mandy had always assumed locating the Dixon family would provide a sense of closure. Finally, this is what happened. If anything, she, Austin, hell, the entire community soon enough, was even more bewildered than before.

By the time Mandy reached her SUV, she was seriously dragging. She plunked down in the front seat, and while she knew it wasn’t strictly professional, tilted her hat forward to obscure her eyes. Ten minutes, if she could just get ten minutes—

“It’s true then? You found the Dixons?”

Mandy opened her eyes to discover Detective Adams standing outside her window. But of course.

She tiredly popped open her door and prayed the frigid temperatures would slap her back to consciousness. Kinda sorta worked.

“The experts will have to render that verdict. But between you and me…I can’t think of any other explanation.”

Adams nodded. He was dressed as a civilian, in a mishmash of well-used winter gear. He’d said he spent a lot of time in the area. Certainly, he now looked it.

“But we’re not on the property?” Adams questioned.

“Yes and no. I discovered the cave via the Dixon homestead. I’d peg it at a twenty- to thirty-minute walk across their fields and up throughthe woods. Or, it can be accessed from the road we are on now in five minutes or less. What that means…I’ll tell you when we figure it out.”

Adams nodded. He appeared pensive. No, upon close examination he looked tense and anxious. The Dixons’ disappearance was the holy grail of cold cases. She was willing to bet Adams had spent his entire professional career studying it, obsessively pursuing leads only to hit a wall time and time again. And now, here they were.