Forgotten Pieces. Tyler Anne Snell
night is still there—”
Maggie’s eyes caught on to a few details she’d missed. The strangeness of what she was seeing must have shown in her expression. The detective’s body language became more open. He faced her with a look split between curiosity and concern.
“What is it?”
Maggie walked to the coffee table and paused. She pointed to the contents on its wooden top.
“Those are my keys,” she said, thoroughly confused. “My house and car keys.” She started to pick them up as if the physical contact would somehow answer the questions starting to spring up in her head when she noticed something else between the table and the couch. “And this is my purse.”
“What?”
Maggie picked up her bag. She pulled out her wallet and flipped it open. Her ID, credit cards and money were inside. The same as she remembered it from before her memory blanked out.
“Everything’s here.”
It was a statement but even to her ears, her confusion was still running rampant. The half-filled cup of coffee with lipstick marks on its edge didn’t help.
“You may think I’m a lot of things but let me tell you, messy isn’t one of them.”
“But you and your car were at Dwayne’s,” Matt added. “How did the keys end up back here?”
Like someone had flipped a switch, a new theory blazed across Maggie’s mind. She turned around and walked straight to the kitchen. Matt’s boots were heavy against the hardwood as he followed.
“Do you remember something?”
Maggie rounded the breakfast bar and made a beeline for the three metal canisters on the counter next to the sink. The one labeled Flour was open, its lid next to it. She was sure of what she wouldn’t find within it but still had to look. After she did she turned, confused.
“It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
“The spare key to my car.” She motioned to the canister. “I kept it in there.”
Matt looked between her and the tin for a moment.
“So let’s assume you used your spare car key to drive your car to Dwayne’s,” he said. “Why would you need it when your original car key is in the other room? And why not take your purse?”
“Why leave a half-filled cup of coffee out? Why leave the back door unlocked and not the front? And why not set the alarm?”
Matt’s eyes widened. Like her, his switch had flipped.
“Because you needed to leave in a hurry,” he guessed. “But why not grab your things?”
Maggie walked to the door that opened into the kitchen. From where she stood she couldn’t see the living room. But she could see the back door.
“I’m not one to make baseless guesses, despite your personal opinion of me, but I think someone was with me here yesterday,” she started. A knot of cold began to form in her stomach. “And whoever they were must have said or done something I really didn’t like.”
“It’s a theory,” Matt reminded the sheriff. He was standing in the living room, phone to his ear, and looking down at Maggie’s key ring. After she’d become convinced of what had happened, he’d had to reel her in a bit. She’d excused herself to shower, not that he blamed her with dried blood caked on her head and a hospital stay that had extended through the night. Now he was bringing Billy up to speed. “But I have to agree it may be right on the money. I mean it looks like she just got up and got out. It’s not adding up.”
“Then we must not have the right numbers,” Billy said. The background noise of the department filtered through the phone. It reminded Matt that he hadn’t been home since he left for work yesterday. “I’ll keep things going on my end while Ansler runs point on the investigation.”
“You’re giving lead to Ryan?” Matt asked, surprised. He was head detective in the sheriff’s department and had been employed with them for four years longer than Ryan Ansler. Not to say that Matt didn’t like the man. He was just more invested in figuring out what had happened thanks to his friendship with Dwayne. Which, he realized two seconds too late, might have been the problem.
“You need to figure out Ms. Carson’s part in all of this,” Billy said. “Whether or not she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, at the right place at the wrong time, or did exactly what she wanted to do. Finding out what happened with her is the key to solving this case. Trying to juggle everything at the same time won’t help Dwayne. Getting answers about what happened at that house might. Let Ansler and me cover the other details and questions. You focus on Carson.”
Billy was right. Like always.
Matt ended the call and decided to explore his surroundings while he was alone. It was less curiosity and more of an attempt to keep his mind from settling until he could ask Maggie some real questions. Ones that she did have answers for. Like the investigation into Erin’s accident.
He imagined his late wife as he often did. Years later and he could still trace every curve of her face in his mind. Bright eyes, button nose, all smiles. He felt more at home in those snatches of memories than he ever had since the accident. Matt didn’t know if that was because he’d moved on or that he hadn’t.
Depending on the day he could give an answer one way or the other.
Today, though?
He wasn’t sure.
The inside of Maggie’s house was surprisingly cozy, all things considered. Beige and white, linens, blue and yellow pops of color and various pictures of Cody, herself and a few people Matt didn’t recognize. He didn’t know what he had expected of the ex-reporter—maybe newspapers and magazines scattered around or a bulletin board filled with pictures all connected by strings—but normal hadn’t been it.
He moved from the living room to what he guessed was a converted dining room currently being used as an office. At least this room looked more like the speed of the Maggie he remembered. Surrounding her computer was a sea of notebooks, papers and empty coffee mugs. A small filing cabinet was tucked next to the desk, partially hidden by a wooden side table standing over it. Matt walked closer to inspect it. There was a lock on the bottom drawer.
A treadmill was tucked in the corner and against the left wall, while a small bookcase stood on the right and seemed to be dedicated to Cody. Colorful spines filled the openings while toys were interspersed between some of the covers. Matt paused at one and smiled. It was a toy cop car.
From there his attention roamed over the pictures hanging on the wall in this room. A collage of more unfamiliar faces hung above the desk while a picture of a newborn Cody sat in the center. He’d had a lot of hair as a baby and was swaddled in a blue blanket, filling up the entire image.
And then there Erin was. Heralding a memory of the first time they’d talked about having kids. He’d just joined the Riker County Sheriff’s Department and she was working through nursing school. They’d decided to wait until their life became less hectic.
Now here he was, years later, standing in Maggie Carson’s house wondering what his own child might look like.
It was another question he didn’t have an answer to. However, it shepherded in a thought that had been in the back of his mind as he moved around the house, looking at pictures.
“Investigating and snooping are separated by the finest of lines, Detective Walker. I thought you of all people would know when you’re toeing it.”
Maggie came to a stop at Matt’s side. A sweet aroma wafted off her, filling his senses before he’d known what hit him. Shampoo or