A Flicker of Doubt - Tim Myers [21]
“Do you feel better?” she asked.
“You know what? I do. Thanks.”
Erin stepped away and said, “Thank you for sharing all of this with me, Harrison.”
“I’m glad I did.”
She looked up at the stars and said, “How could I not love it? Could I come back up another time?”
“That sounds great. We can have a picnic sometime.”
Erin shivered. “Sometime warm, maybe.”
“It is getting chilly, isn’t it? Let’s go downstairs. I’ll make us some coffee.”
I turned the flashlight on and led her back to the scuttle. “Do you have any hot chocolate?” she asked once we were back in my apartment.
“You’d better believe it. I’ve even got marshmallows,” I said with a smile.
After we had our cocoa, Erin said, ‘This was fun. I enjoy hanging out with you, Harrison.”
“Thanks, I needed this more than I realized.” I walked her to her car, and she surprised me by giving me a peck on the cheek. “Call me any time, Harrison.”
When I walked back upstairs, I found Markum leaning against my door. The accordion folder we’d retrieved from Becka’s apartment was sitting on top of a box he had tucked under one arm.
I asked, “How long have you been here?”
“Not long enough to matter. I saw you had company so I waited until she was gone. Are you ready to do some more digging?”
The calm ease I’d felt with Erin drained quickly away, but I knew I owed it to Becka to find out what had really happened to her. “I’m ready.”
We walked in the apartment and I picked up the
coffee mugs Erin and I had used for our cocoa. “Do you want anything?” I asked.
“No, I’m good. Listen, I’m sorry to do this to you. I know you’ve had the mother of all bad days, but our only chance here is to jump on this before the trail gets too cold.”
“I agree,” I said. “So what’s in the box?”
He put the folder to one side and brought out a woman’s handbag. I recognized it as Becka’s. “Where did you find that?”
“It was in the water a thousand yards downstream from the overlook. I got soaked getting it, but it was worth it.”
He opened it and pulled out an envelope. “Look at that”
It was addressed to Becka. Despite the water damage, I could read enough of the return address to see that it was from Washington, D.C., but the name of the agency had been torn off the corner. I opened the envelope, not sure what I was hoping to find, but it was empty. Then I flipped it over and saw a brief note scrawled in Becka’s handwriting. The last few words were smudged and the first part was obscured by a smear of mud. All I could make out for sure was the single word “land.” As a clue, it wasn’t much use. If she’d used a pen I might still be able to read it, but the pencil lead had been blurred almost beyond recognition during its submersion. “Sony, there’s not enough here to do us much good.”
I had a thought and said, “Wait a second, I’ll be right back.” I retrieved the photo fragment I’d found on her dresser mirror and handed it to him as I said, “Maybe they’re connected in some way. Could she have been asking someone about this barrel? But how do we find out what they said?”
Markum studied the photo, then said, “The postmark on the envelope is two weeks before the date on the back of the picture.”
I felt deflated. “So they’re not related.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Can I have this? I’ve got a guy who does me favors on occasion, and he might be able to give us something more than we’re seeing here.”
“Sure, be my guest.” I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”
Markum said, “Patience, Harrison. We have to gather as many pieces of the puzzle as we can before we can figure out what really happened to her.”
I leaned forward and snagged the purse. It had a mildewed smell to it and I could feel some kind of slime on it Becka was fastidious about her appearance—the state of her apartment notwithstanding—and I knew it would have infuriated her to see her purse like that. Instead of getting sadder, it only fueled my anger. Somebody was going to pay for what they’d done to her.
I started going through