Guarded Secrets. Leann Harris
to several needy families in the church. Opening the door that led into the kitchen, she put her purse on the table and flipped on the light.
She gasped as she looked at the mess in her kitchen. Someone had been in here, searching for…what?
Grabbing her purse, she looked for Jonathan Littledeer’s business card. She found it and dialed the number.
“Littledeer.”
“Detective, this is Lilly Burkstrom. I just walked into my house. It looks like my husband’s apartment wasn’t the only place ransacked.”
“Your house was broken into?”
“Yes.”
A crash from the bedroom made her gasp.
“Lilly.”
“I heard something.”
“Get out. Go next door and call 911.”
She turned and ran out the garage.
TWO
T he instant he hung up with Lilly Burkstrom, Jonathan Littledeer called his partner and told him about the incident.
“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” Dave told him.
“No.” Jon had been reluctant to contact his partner since Dave was celebrating his twins’ tenth birthday. “Today is your daughters’ birthday. Do not leave that party. If there’s anything significant, I’ll let you know.”
Dave didn’t reply. They both knew the reason why Jon wasn’t celebrating with the Sandoval family. Jon had lost both of his daughters to a rare genetic disorder—Niemann-Pick disease type C. Both Jon and his wife, Roberta, carried the recessive gene. No one had known the children had the disease until the oldest, Wendy, was two and a half. Rose had been born just a few months before Wendy got sick. She had run a high temperature and had her first seizure. When she had a second seizure after recovering from the fever, the doctors were stumped. It took a while before they were able to determine what was happening. Wendy’s body eventually wasted away and she died two days before her fourth birthday. A month after they buried Wendy, Rose had her first seizure. She died much quicker. She suffered for only thirteen months. The day they buried his sweet Rose, Jon’s wife went home after the funeral and took too many sleeping pills. Jon buried his wife one week after his youngest daughter was laid to rest.
The next six months were a blur. He was drunk most of the time. The first time he shown up at work drunk, his captain suspended him. Captain Morse blistered the paint off the wall with his words and told him to clean up his act or resign.
One night after a particularly bad binge, Jon showed up at Dave’s house, railing. Most of the details of what happened were hazy, but he remembered crying and blaming God for what had happened. How Dave calmed him down, he didn’t know, but when Jon surfaced the next morning from his liquor-induced sleep, Caren, one of the twins, was standing over him. She cupped his cheek and softly pronounced that Jesus could heal his hurt.
Those sweet words rolled around in his head for weeks, until Jon went with Dave to church. Caren had been right. Jon gave his heart to Christ and started down the road to healing. Some things, such as the girls’ birthday, he had to skip, but his life was so much better. More than once, God had brought people into his life that he could comfort in the same way he’d been comforted.
The night he’d told Lilly Burkstrom of her ex-husband’s murder stood out in his mind. She’d collapsed in a chair and, although the man was her ex, Jon had seen her honest grief. But what had nearly brought him to his knees was when Penny came into the room and learned of her father’s death.
What he’d seen in Lilly’s eyes as she comforted her daughter had reached into his heart and touched him. He couldn’t figure out if it was her strength in comforting her daughter or if it was the pain in her eyes when she’d met his gaze. There was an understanding there, a shared sorrow. Pain. He didn’t know what to do with this understanding, but he found himself thinking of Lilly at odd times. Something had sparked between them, making him jumpy. He knew the Lord could use him to comfort others, but heaven knew that he didn’t want another relationship. He would be the forever bachelor.
Pulling up to Lilly Burkstrom’s house, he saw her sitting on a bench by the front walk. He parked behind the patrol car and got out.
She stood, brushing off her pants. “The patrolman just got here. He’s looking through the house.”
Stepping to her side, he asked, “So you don’t know how someone got into the house?”
“No. The front door was locked when I got home.”
He nodded. “I’ll go inside and see what’s going on.”
“Thanks.”
Jon moved into the house and surveyed the living room. It wasn’t in as much disarray as Peter Burkstrom’s apartment had been in, but the drawers of the coffee table were open and the cushions on the couch were out of alignment. He moved through the dining area and into the kitchen. Drawers hung open and cabinet doors stood ajar.
He heard someone behind him. He turned and saw the uniformed officer, Miguel Aguilar. “What are you doing here, Littledeer? I haven’t seen any bodies.”
“The lady’s ex-husband was murdered last week. She called me before she dialed 911. Earlier, the ex’s apartment was broken into and trashed. This place is in better shape, but…How’s the rest of the house?”
“It’s been tossed.”
“Any indication where the perpetrator got in?”
“The sliding glass door in the master bedroom was jimmied. It has one of those cheap locks.”
“You call for the evidence team?”
“Yeah. They’re on the way.”
He moved through the rest of the house. Whoever had broken in had been more careful than they’d been at Peter’s apartment. It sure seemed as if someone was after something—which led him to believe Lilly’s assertion that maybe her ex-husband’s death wasn’t the random event they thought it might be.
As he turned to leave the master bedroom, he noticed the framed picture on the dresser. It had been knocked on its side. He picked up the frame. Penny, who was maybe twelve or thirteen months old at the time, sat on her mother’s lap. They were both smiling. It was the kind of picture that any husband or grandparent would view with joy and pride.
He remembered the picture of Roberta, Wendy and Rose on his mantel at home. It had been taken right before they knew the killing truth. Wendy had been two and a half; Rose two months. It was a picture he hadn’t been able to look at since he’d buried Roberta.
He carefully replaced the picture and walked back outside. Lilly and an unknown woman quietly talked. When Lilly saw him, she ushered the woman toward him.
“This is my neighbor, Sandra Tillman. She thought she saw someone in the house,” Lilly explained.
“What did you see?” Jon asked.
The woman rubbed her arms. “When I went out to bring in Lucky, my dog, I saw a light flash inside Lilly’s house. I stopped and watched. The light never appeared again, so I shrugged it off as my imagination, but seeing the patrol car, I thought I’d tell Lilly what I saw.”
“Did you see a car near the house? Or anyone leave?” he asked.
The woman shook her head. “Sorry.” The slump of her shoulders gave away her disappointment at not being able to provide more information.
“Thank you for your help. I wish more people would step up to the plate. What you’ve told me is that the man, assuming it is a man and he worked alone, might have parked his car on the next street over. I’ll be sure to question the neighbors on that street.”
The woman’s spine straightened. “I’ll keep my eyes