EPILOGUE



The next day, May arrived at the Fairshore police department at eight-thirty. She hadn’t had much sleep. She and Kerry had swapped war stories into the small hours. May felt tired, but happy.

As she rushed into the police department, ready to prepare for the press conference, Sheriff Jack called her name.

“May. I have some news for you. We’ve got the go-ahead to reopen your sister’s case. The file is being sent today. I hope you find something that can help,” he said, his tone at once hopeful and comforting.

May’s heart leapt.

Finally, she was going to be able to relook into the confusing, conflicting circumstances of Lauren’s disappearance. Nerves twisted inside her at what she might find.

In fact, she couldn’t wait.

Now that she had the official go-ahead, she wanted to do what she’d been so tempted to do two days ago, as she’d stood in the evidence room, scenarios unfolding in her imagination.

Now, she had actual permission to open the box. And she wanted to have a quick look inside before the press conference began.

May took the key for the evidence room and hurried through. She unlocked the door and stepped into the cool, musty-smelling place.

Feeling breathless, she trod along the length of the room, past the quiet shelves.

There it was. The box she needed. She lifted it down from the shelf and placed it on the floor.

With shaking fingers, she gently teased the tape away and loosened it.

This was all that remained of her sister’s movements and possessions on that fateful day. The only traces of it were here. It had happened so long ago. What hope did she have?

But May reminded herself firmly that there was always hope.

She took the box and opened the cardboard top. Then she moved it under a light and peered inside.

So little was there. Just a few items, all carefully bagged. Untouched for a decade, and now touched again by her shaking fingertips lifting them out. Underneath was the folded log of the items.

There were the tiny scraps of fabric from her blouse, stained with blood.

There was a button from Lauren’s shirtsleeve, found in the same area. May remembered that now.

Her water bottle, with the traces of her saliva on it. That pink bottle had been found near the lake, a few yards away from the fabric.

And something else. What was this?

Puzzled, May lifted the bag and looked inside.

It was a key. A small metal key, the steel slightly discolored with age, grainy and gray. It was attached to a plastic key ring.

And on the key ring was scrawled an address, old and blurred and all but unreadable. Narrowing her eyes, she squinted at the lettering.

This was weird.

Had it been misfiled? she wondered. A key had never been mentioned. What was it for, and how had it even ended up here?

She stared at it, feeling shivers trail up and down her spine as she considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this would lead to something more. She needed to examine this blurred lettering more closely and if she did, surely there was a chance to work out what the address was. Perhaps a magnifying glass or a microscope might yield some answers as to what key it was, and what it opened.

She didn’t dare to wonder if this might even unlock some of the mystery surrounding Lauren’s disappearance. She had always suspected, deep inside, that there was more to it and that some questions had never been answered.

Had her sister’s case been given up on too soon by the previous sheriff?

Putting the box carefully back on the shelf and hurrying out of the evidence room, ready for the press conference, May felt a sense of confidence flaming inside her. She knew she could do this. She resolved she was not going to let go this time. No matter what.

The key might mean nothing.

But then again, it could mean everything.


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Tags: Blake Pierce May Moore Suspense Thriller Thriller