Page 43 of Finding Forever

“I wish I’d come home.”

Mom pushed a strand of hair off my face. “I know you do. Have you visited the cemetery?”

I shook my head. “I nearly went there last week.”

“How about we visit their grave together?”

“I’d like that.” Fresh tears stung my eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Mom wrapped me in another hug. “I used to say the same thing to your grandma. But no matter how hard it is, when someone you love dies, you find the strength to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.”

I rested my head on her shoulder. The thought of ever losing her was more than I could bear. I took a deep breath and tried to see something positive in all the heartbreak.

Changing the past was impossible, but I could change my future. And I knew just how to do it.

thirty-two

ERIC

After Riley and his mom went home, I turned on my computer. There was too much going on inside my brain to sleep, so I might as well do something constructive—even if it created more questions than answers.

I opened the spreadsheet Alex had designed, the one where we'd detailed every possible clue that might help us predict the stalker's next move. The break-in at the cottage didn’t seem connected to the stalker, but in a town like Sunrise Bay, even the smallest crime felt like a major event.

One of the reasons I was living here was because of its low crime rate. Petty theft, the occasional bar brawl, and speeding tickets kept the local police officers busy. Until today, that is. If the stalker was here, how did he find me? And if it wasn’t the stalker, who broke into the cottage and why?

I closed the spreadsheet and opened the Sunrise Bay Community Facebook page. It was a hub of local news, updated by the residents and even the police and the fire department.

I was searching for any recent police reports. Three days ago, the police issued a warning about increased crime during the Cherry Festival, advising residents to lock their homes and watch over their neighbors' properties. It made sense for those on regular streets, but Riley’s cottage was isolated, surrounded by towering trees, with neighbors too far away to hear a scream.

I scrolled through the posts, reading about various events over the past few months. My phone rang, startling me. “Hello?”

“You didn’t call me.” Alex’s voice was filled with irritation.

“What are you talking about?”

“The burglary. It’s all over the community Facebook page and you didn’t tell me.”

I glanced at the top stories of the day and saw the post Alex mentioned. “How did Jenny hear about the break-in?”

“She must’ve had covert spies operating in your area. You know what she’s like.”

Reading the post sent chills down my spine. “How on earth did she know about Riley’s paintings and their worth?”

“Jenny’s the font of all knowledge when it comes to this town. If you believe what she says, she’s partly responsible for Riley becoming a famous artist.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It might come in handy when the news crew from Denver7 comes visiting.”

I really hoped I misheard Alex. “Who?”

“Denver7. They’re an ABC-affiliated television station. Someone in their office has liked the post.”

I dropped my head into my hands. “They can’t do a story about the break-in.”

“That’s why I’m calling. Apart from being emotionally bruised from your lack of communication, I’m offering you a place to stay. But only until the interest in Riley’s art dies down. I don’t want you to think you can permanently cohabitate with me.”

Even though I was worried, I laughed. “As one of your best friends, that sounds as though it’s on the murky side of weird.”

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