Breath of Dawn, The Read Online Free PDF Page B

secreted like the necklace and earring, she resumed her search. Piece after piece of clothing moved through her fingers, but no locket. Not pinned into any cuffs, not sewn into any hems. It was not in the lingerie drawers of the dresser, not in the trunks that produced every conceivable linen from embroidered pillowcases to Christmas stockings to latch-hook rugs.
    The matching vanity yielded lipsticks and sticky brown, mostly evaporated perfumes. The bottles might have value to product-line collectors, so she carefully packed them into a container and loaded it into her truck with the usable clothing and fabric goods. The brilliant sunshine had produced a vibrant October day she took a moment to enjoy, breathing deeply of the piney scent before going back in. She was getting a sense of Vera that should be helping the quest but so far hadn’t.
    Size-ten shoe boxes bricked the wall floor to ceiling, double deep. All held shoes, except those filled with clothing tags and tags with tiny bags of spare buttons and beads and tags with receipts stapled on. Tags and receipts she dumped, but she could probably match the novelty items to things from the closet, which would add value.
    From the toe of one pink leather pump, she drew a butterfly pin studded with blue stones of differing hues. Lifting the butterfly on her palm, she watched the light glitter through the stones like sunlight on an aqua sea. “Butterflies shouldn’t be locked in boxes,”she told it. Nor should things that matter be hidden behind heaps of camouflage, like a heart sealed by ever-thickening walls.
    She moved into the kitchen, shook and sifted open containers of oatmeal and cornstarch and baking soda while she sorted and boxed the canned and dry goods for a charitable donation. She checked and emptied the containers in the fridge and freezer, something RaeAnne would surely have done if she hadn’t been absorbed in finding the locket.
    With her arm pressed to her forehead, she glanced at the asylum cabinet, brooding in the center of the floor. She could almost hear it calling, “Open me.” What if the locket was in there? Vera knew about the cellar, might have known about the cabinet. She couldn’t imagine her down there at eighty-two with hips wider than RaeAnne’s, but perhaps when she was younger.
    Quinn pushed her hair back and looked once more at the milky glass panes obscuring the contents. It belonged to Morgan—as is . But she might search everywhere else and find it was in the cabinet all along. Shouldn’t she rule it out? Her fingers itched.
    She’d brought the skeleton keys with her—in case Morgan changed his mind, but how would she know? Since he’d seen what he needed of the house, he wasn’t likely to return before she finished. The locket might be inside one of the bottles, and there was no way she could check without leaving signs of tampering. She groaned. Why had she taken the check? Immediately her sense returned. Fifteen hundred dollars was why.
    She’d spent the previous evening photographing and listing items that didn’t require research. Everything from the cellar would. How much for shackles? She shuddered, casting a glance at the door. She’d have to go through it sometime, but she’d felt a creepiness down there, and going alone into dark, confined spaces violated her safety code.

    With Livie holding his finger, Morgan entered Rudy’s general store, a dark-stained wood-plank exterior with green roof that reminded him of Lincoln Logs. Inside was a magical place for a little person who loved fishing flies as much as toys. As always, sheran to the case that held them arrayed like jewels, pressed her little hands to the glass, and stared in. Moving from one end of the long counter to the glassed end, Rudy bent and peered at her through the display. A superb judge of character, Livie didn’t jump back but studied him in kind.
    Wordlessly, he pulled one of the drawers toward himself. With big, blunt fingers, he took one