The implication crashed over me. Someone had wanted to kill me, and somehow, impossibly, Danny had known. Tom’s radio erupted with urgent voices. He pressed it to his ear, his face darkening. He looked at me, and I saw something that made my heart stop. Not just concern now, but suspicion. “Alexia, I need you…
“Who specifically would know you take the bus on Tuesday and Friday mornings from this stop?” Tom asked, his voice low. “My family, the other regular riders… half the town, probably.” “Tom, what are you suggesting?” “I’m not suggesting anything yet. But someone was killed here, wearing a coat identical to yours, at the exact…
“Mom, you’re not getting any younger,” Robert would say, parroting his wife. “This place is too much for you.” But it wasn’t too much. It was my life. A young detective with sharp eyes approached. “I’m Detective Roxane Merrick. I understand your grandson may have information.” I explained again about Danny’s call. She exchanged a glance…
I repeated the conversation word for word. “Where is Danny now?” “I don’t know. He sounded terrified.” “When did you last see him?” “Sunday dinner. Three days ago. He seemed fine then.” But even as I said it, I wondered. Had he seemed normal, or had I been too caught up in the usual family…
“We haven’t identified her yet, but Alexia…” he paused, his eyes searching mine, “…she was wearing a red coat. Cherry red, just like yours.” My knees went weak. Tom caught my elbow, steadying me. Through the windshield of his patrol car, I could see them photographing a shape covered with a white tarp. “Tom,” I…
Sheriff Tom Brennan saw me approaching and stepped forward, his hand raised. “Mrs. Alexia Foster, you need to stay back.” “Tom, what happened? I need to catch the bus.” “There won’t be a bus this morning, Alexia.” His face was grave. We’d gone to high school together forty-five years ago. “There’s been an incident.” “What kind of…
At nine o’clock, I walked down our long gravel driveway toward the county road where the bus stopped. I’d been taking the same bus into town every Tuesday and Friday for five years, ever since my husband, Frank, passed. The routine was comforting. But today, there was no bus. Instead, there were police cars, four of…
Danny, what are you talking about?” “Just please, Grandma, don’t wear it. Wear anything else. Promise me.” “You’re scaring me, honey. Where are you? Are you alright?” “I can’t explain right now. You’ll understand soon. Just promise me.” The line went dead. I sat there, the phone cooling against my ear, staring at that red…
When I saw Danny’s name on the screen, my heart lurched. My grandson never called at this hour. Never. “Grandma?” His voice was barely a whisper, trembling like a candle flame in the wind. “Danny, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” “Grandma, please. You have to listen to me.” There was something in his tone that made my blood run…
My grandson called me at five a.m. and said, “Grandma, don’t wear your red coat today.” I asked why, and with a trembling voice, he said, “You’ll understand soon. At nine.” The phone rang at exactly five in the morning. I know because I was already awake, sitting in my grandmother’s rocking chair by the…