Page 21 of The Hanging Dolls
“No!” Mary cried, and looked at Bella. “What are they saying? Did you see anyone?”
“I didn’t,” Bella pleaded. “I swear. It was a regular day. I often take Lily to that park. I never noticed any pervert. Lily never mentioned any man to me.”
“You should have been more careful, Bella,” Mary said through gritted teeth. “Why did you look away? What have you done?”
“Now, now…” Tim said, making a half-hearted attempt to pacify her. Then she broke down and sobbed into his chest. He just sat stock-still, making no attempts to hold her or soothe her. “We didn’t notice anything like that.”
Bella was horrified. She looked at Mary somewhere between hope and yearning, as if waiting for words of comfort. Aiden opened his mouth but she ran into the hallway, banging a door closed behind her.
“She’s been taking it very badly,” Tim explained.
“Was Lily allergic to anything?” Zoe asked.
“Why?”
She didn’t have the stomach to tell him the killer had offered their daughter Claritin before killing her. “It’s relevant to our investigation.”
Mary continued to sob into his shoulder. His face tightened in irritation and he pushed her away sharply. But she didn’t seem to notice, instead burying her face in her hands.
Zoe and Aiden exchanged a glance. What was all that about?
“Devil’s club,” Tim answered. “We went camping last year and she got hives on her skin when she brushed against it.”
While Scott continued to tactfully gather more information, Zoe stared at her boots on the thick, slightly worn carpet with a floral pattern that had faded from years of use. While Mary had folded her body in half, Tim was barely holding it together. His patience was wearing thin. He wanted to be alone in his grief. Perhaps he wanted to mourn in silence.
“Mind if we see Lily’s bedroom?” Aiden asked.
Tim led them to the back of the house to Lily’s room—the door slightly ajar. When Zoe entered the space, a chill coated her skin, raising goosebumps on her arms. There was a single bed against one wall, covered with a thin, slightly worn quilt featuring cartoon characters—Elsa fromFrozen, Rapunzel, andLooney Tunescharacters. The bed sheet was plain and white and crumpled.
A shelf housed a few toys—dolls, puzzles, and a couple of board games—but they were almost untouched, gathering dust as if playtime had become less frequent. Next to the toys was a small, neatly organized basket with medical supplies: bandages, ointments, and a few small bottles of over-the-counter medications.
Aiden picked up a cough syrup bottle sitting on the small nightstand and turned it over in his hand. Andy, Tim’s boss, had mentioned that Lily hadn’t been well a few days before she went missing.
“She hated that syrup.” Tim’s voice came from behind them. He stood at the doorway; his eyes haunted. “I would promise herthat she could watch TV in return. Of course, Mary didn’t know that. She was strict about things.”
“I can see that.” Zoe looked pointedly at the basket of medicines. What an odd thing to keep in a child’s room. It was something Rachel kept in her room, but Zoe and Gina had had a very unusual upbringing.
“Did Lily fall sick often?” Aiden asked.
“Past two years, yeah. But Bella was the same. She grew out of it. Can I ask you something?” His eyes pinned them with a desperate look. For the first time, tears welled up in his eyes and the tip of his nose turned red. “Was she… was she in pain? Please be honest.”
There it was. That first uncorking of questions. It always started with shock and then melted into“Was she in pain?”. It didn’t take long for“Why would anyone do this?”to come.
Zoe picked up a stuffed animal from the bed. A gray elephant. She threw a glance at Aiden, who nodded at her. “No. He was gentle in his approach.”
Tim nodded, releasing a breath. “Have you worked on cases like this before?”
“Yes.” She kept stroking the soft toy.
“What do the parents do?” His voice was small.
Zoe didn’t usually hang around once her job was done. She caught the bad guy, put them behind bars, and moved on with her life. It wasn’t callousness; it was self-preservation. She took a choppy breath, afraid she might say the wrong thing to a weak man.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Baker. We can tell you the truth,” Aiden said. “We are also here to offer you support—I can put you in touch with resources.”
“Does the truth matter if it can’t bring my kid back?”
Truth was a double-edged sword. It didn’t offer any closure but the lack of it ravaged the mind. Festering lies was like a deathby a million paper cuts, drawn out and never-ending. The truth killed you swiftly.
