Page 42 of Fate and Fortune

Finn had released the place two days ago. His people had walked it, dusted what there was to dust, and found exactly what a man expects to find when he already believes he’s looking at a robbery gone wrong. Nothing disturbed. Nothing missing but a wallet and a phone that were taken a mile away. Sam had the key from the property manager and a moving crew scheduled, and until then it was theirs.

The condo was orderly and immaculate. Just like Leigh herself.

That was the first thing that got him. He’d expected the sadness. He hadn’t expected the tidiness of it, the way every object sat exactly where a person had decided it should sit. Books alphabetical. Two coffee mugs in the drainer, washed and turned over. A calendar on the refrigerator with the last three weeks of her life written on it in her small square hand. Dentist. Book club.

On the counter, a stack of glossy brochures. Condos with balconies overlooking shimmering water.

“Oh,” Alli said quietly, behind him.

“Yeah.”

Neither of them said anything else about it.

They worked out a system in about four minutes, which was the thing about her. Movers got the kitchen, the furniture, the linens, the anonymous middle of a life. Anything with her handwriting on it, anything with a face in it, anything a stranger shouldn’t touch, went into their boxes and got labeled properly, and Sam wrote the labels himself in block capitals because it seemed important that they be legible.

For an hour it was almost easy. Alli talked while she worked, which he had learned was how she thought, and he found that he didn’t mind. In a way, it was oddly comforting, speaking about mundane topics while doing a task that was disturbing in its own way.

There were a few items that felt a bit out of place, like a ceramic owl and a tie-dyed throw pillow on the bed. Something from her youth perhaps?

“I’m going to box up the bookshelf,” he said, avoiding the desk in the corner.

He wasn’t quite ready to do that. Not yet. He’d work up to it. If it was anything like his own desk at home, it would be full of personal and financial information. Bank and mortgage statements that he had yet to change to paperless, ticket stubs, takeout menus, and scrawled notes and reminders. Even some old photos shoved into the bottom drawer.

“I can help,” she offered, carefully wrapping a piece of jewelry on Leigh’s dresser. “I’m almost done here.”

“Take your time. I’ve got this.”

The smallest boxes had been reserved for the books. He neatly stacked each book in the box, noting that Leigh seemed to enjoy mysteries and thrillers. She had an entire shelf of Agatha Christie novels. He was loading up the second box when a photo fluttered from between the pages and onto the floor.

It was Leigh. Sitting up in a hospital bed.

Holding a baby and smiling, flanked on each side by a young couple.

A baby.

Leigh was clearly wearing a hospital gown with one of those paper bracelets on her wrist, holding a small baby wrapped in a pink and blue striped blanket.

Sam had to sit down on the floor, his entire body reacting to the photo. His fingers visibly trembled as they held the five-by-seven picture, even as his mind tried to sort through the new information.

He’d known Leigh pretty much his entire life. Honestly, he’d realized recently that he didn’t know all that much about the woman. She’d played her life pretty damn close to her chest. He’d always put it down to her strict code of professionalism.

This fucking town was so full of secrets. Did Leigh have one as well? Was this baby…hers?

“Alli.”

“Mm.”

“Can you take a look at this for me, please?”

He needed someone who wasn’t as emotionally involved as he was.

“What am I looking at?”

“Leigh. In the hospital. And it looks like she has a baby.”

Alli sat down next to him, frowning as she studied the picture.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”