Page 31 of Justice for Daesha

Uh-oh, he heard that inner child mumble. “Peach?”

“I love peach! How did you know?” she asked as she dropped her bag on one of the chairs. “Is it ready?”

“Oh, yeah, and the coffee is too.”

“If I drink coffee now, I won’t be able to sleep for three hours,” she said, sounding exhausted.

Amos laughed. “That’s what I’m counting on!” He picked up the plates he’d laid out beside the stove. “Come on and eat some pie and have some coffee. And tell me about your day.”

Thirty minutes later, they’d eaten their pie and were sitting on the big sofa, laughing and talking. Everything about being with her was easy, and Amos felt… blessed. She was happy to see him, and she had no idea how happy he was to see her. “So am I still coming tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, but I have to warn you, this is different. We’re going to a place that wants eighties and nineties music, so it’s not what we normally do.” She took a sip of coffee and sat there with her hands wrapped around the mug. “I think it’ll be fine, but that’s a new thing for us, and since that’s what their management asked for, I have no idea what kind of crowd to expect. Older, maybe? I have no clue.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll do great.” After taking her mug out of her hand and setting it on the coffee table, Amos picked up a folder lying there and opened it. “Listen, we noticed something today on the photos from the crime scene, and I wanted to ask you about them.”

“Oh, god, I’ve got to look at those again? I was hoping you’d take care of this and I’d never have to see them again,” Daesha moaned.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But this is important. Look at this one. Look at her right ring finger. What do you see?”

“I dunno. Blood. Broken nails.”

“But look at the way the blood is lying there on her skin.” He waited and watched as she turned the photo around and around, looking at it from other angles as he had. “Do you see it?”

“It looks like…” She pulled it closer to her face and stared at it. “It looks like a ring was taken off of it because the blood is drawn down toward her fingertip.”

“That’s what we thought too. So what ring did she wear on that hand?”

Daesha shrugged and dropped the picture on the coffee table. “Honestly, I have no idea. I don’t remember her wearing one.”

“Think, babe.”

He watched her face as she closed her eyes, and he knew she was trying to see her sister in her mind. After a couple of minutes, she shook her head. “Nope. I’m not getting anything.”

“Do you have some pictures of her from around that time period? I mean, other than the crime scene photos?”

She shrugged again. “I dunno. Maybe. I can look.”

“I think that’s a clue we can’t afford to drop.”

“Hang on.” She disappeared into the guest bedroom and in a minute or so, she reappeared with a photo box. “These would be around that time. Here.” A handful of photos passed to his hand from hers. “You look through those and I’ll look through these.”

Amos pored over the photos. They either didn’t show her right arm and hand, or there was nothing on that finger in the pictures. They’d been looking for about ten minutes when Daesha blurted out, “Wait!” She held up a picture and turned it around so Amos could see it.

In the photo were Daesha, a woman he assumed was their mother, and Dorinda. There, on Dorinda’s finger, was a ring, and it was a pretty large one at that. He couldn’t really make it out, but it seemed to have some sort of logo on it. “Do you know what that is?”

“No. I remember seeing it a couple of times, but I have no idea what that was. I meant to ask her about it one time, but I guess we started talking about something else and I forgot. I just figured it was something she got on vacation, or at a boutique, or something.”

“Was it in with her personal effects after she was killed?”

Daesha shook her head. “No. I never saw it again. Do you think they took it?”

“It wentsomewhere, and it sure looks like somebody took something off her finger. That’s the only logical explanation for why it wasn’t in her personal effects.”

“Unless she pawned it, or gave it back, or lost it,” Daesha pointed out.

“She didn’t need money. I’m sure your parents were helping her, am I right?” Daesha nodded. “She could’ve given it back or lost it, but don’t you think it’s weird that you’ve never seen it again?”

“Yeah, I definitely do.”

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