Page 99 of The Hanging Dolls
“Yes. Somehow you being here raised some flags. I have no idea why.”
Zoe bit her tongue. Was it possible she was being watched? Outside the car, their surroundings were a blur of white. Icy pellets crashed on the ground, creating a frenzied dance of shimmering white. The streetlights struggled, their beams barely penetrating the dense curtain of hail. Her stomach dropped. There was a danger to wilderness. It shrouded predators and secrets alike. And then another realization smacked her. Simon. She had asked Simon to look into Keith. He must have entered the name somewhere. That would have raised flags.
“If you’re in danger, then the FBI can protect…” She didn’t finish.
Keith gave her a knowing smile. “We both know that Rachel wouldn’t have killed herself, Zoe. Especially when she had two kids that needed her. Someone got to her.”
Zoe nodded, her neck stiff. Rachel was murdered while she was in witness protection. “They did.”
“And now I have to disappear before they get to me. Maybe they’ve been keeping tabs on you too. Just a heads-up.”
Why did it feel like she was losing a piece of her past again? The one tangible connection she had found to Rachel, to whyand who killed her, and it was slipping away. “Is there no other way?” she pleaded. “Please… I just…” Tears collected in her eyes. “I just can’t lose everything.”
“I’m sorry, Zoe. But there is one thing I can do for you.” He retrieved a key from his coat. Its brass surface was tarnished to a deep, uneven patina, featured elaborate engravings, with swirling patterns. “Your mother gave something to me when she left.” He gripped the bow of the key. “She said this was my insurance policy in case they came after me. This key opens a safety deposit box in Chicago.”
Chicago. A surreal feeling swept through her. All those years she had spent in the windy city and all the while it contained something she had been searching for.
“The safety deposit box contains something important to that man who was after her. I want you to have it.”
Zoe swallowed. With a trembling hand, she took the key from him. Keith released a breath, his eyes lingering on the key.
“Why are you giving it to me? You’ll need it if you’re going to be on the run.”
“Because this is the least I can do for Rachel.” His brows pulled together, a wan smile spreading on his lips. “I can take care of myself but if they come after you or Gina, then you have leverage.”
She turned the key between her fingers. “What does the deposit box contain?”
“You’ll see for yourself. Hopefully, you’ll be able to understand it because I couldn’t.” He clicked the door open. “I hope one day our paths cross again. Take care, Zoe.”
He exited the car with the collar of his coat up, chin tucked in and hands stuffed into his pockets. Zoe watched him disappear through the frosted window as she pondered what he’d just told her.
Anticipation built inside her as she studied the key. Keith might be gone, but this was his parting gift to her. She clasped her fingers around it, and the tapered edge of the key dug into her skin. One step closer to the truth.
Her phone buzzed with a message. It was Terri.
T: The recipient of the phlebotomy kit is John Smith. Larkspur Greenhouse, 1120 Cedar Hollow Road.
FIFTY-FOUR
A quick search of the Larkspur Greenhouse on the Internet yielded no information. It was a private property—not registered or run by any organization. But that wasn’t what stood out to her like a giant, loud red sign.
It was John Smith.
Why would anyone ordering a phlebotomy kit online give the nameJohn Smith? It was because he had something to hide. He didn’t want his identity known.
She dropped a quick message to Aiden, letting him know where she was headed.
The greenhouse was nestled in a small clearing, surrounded by towering evergreens that seemed to close in on all sides. The glass structure was dimly lit by the last rays of twilight with ivy creeping up its sides and moss gathering at its base. There was no sign of life, no other buildings, no distant hum of civilization—just the greenhouse.
Zoe moved quickly but quietly, scanning the area for any signs of surveillance or recent activity. She noticed the heavy padlock on the door. It was old but sturdy, the kind of lock that wasn’t meant to be easily tampered with. Without hesitation, shepulled out a small set of tools from her jacket, quickly working the lock until it gave way with a soft click.
The door creaked open, and she slipped inside. The interior was almost completely dark, save for the faintest glow filtering through the glass walls. Her eyes adjusted, revealing rows of plants on long tables, their leaves casting strange, elongated shadows across the floor. The air inside was thick and humid, carrying the earthy scent of soil and the sharp tang of fertilizer. The walls were lined with shelves, stacked with gardening tools, pots, and various bags of soil amendments.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” Zoe shouted out, her voice bouncing around the greenhouse. She knew there was no one around but it didn’t hurt to try. The scent ofgreenerywas overwhelming and she searched for a power switch to turn on the lights but to no avail.
Her heart thudded slowly in her chest and her skin tingled.
She inspected the plants closely—varieties she didn’t immediately recognize, some of them rare or exotic, their leaves glistening in the dim light.
