Dare to Dream: The Maxwell Series Read Online Free PDF

California, I didn’t dwell too much on who killed Mom and Julie. The police didn’t think the killer had any interest in finding us, and I had been too absorbed in my own hell to even think straight, although the question had been simmering.
    The detective played with the folder as though it held the answers to the one question we all had. “Shortly after the murders, we suspected that the home invasion was part of a string of robberies in a neighborhood not far from yours.” He pinned his dark eyes on Dad. “But a week ago we arrested the group responsible.”
    I had been about to jump across the table and hug the man until he said that “but.” That freaking word severed an artery. I hated that word. Absolutely despised it.
    Dad placed his warm hand over mine. Rob gnawed on his lip.
    The detective scratched his head. “Their alibies check out. They weren’t anywhere near your neighborhood that night.”
    I slumped in my chair.
    Detective Fisher considered me before he set his attention on Dad. “Was anything taken that night?”
    Dad let go of me. “How many times do I have to tell you? No.”
    Rob fidgeted, and his jaw flexed.
    “Mr. Robinson, we have reason to believe whoever invaded your home was after something specific. I know you want to put all this behind you. Frankly, so do we. So, I’ll ask you as many times as I think is necessary.” His tone was even.
    “And what makes you believe that?” Rob asked.
    I wasn’t aware that anything had been taken from our house that night, except two precious lives. Dad had mentioned several times that he went through his valuables and Mom’s and didn’t find anything missing.
    “We have a reliable confidential informant who has given us some information. Right now we’re checking into it, so I can’t divulge much.” He scrubbed fat fingers over his bald head. “It would be nice to know from you what they were looking for. Frankly, if they didn’t get what they wanted, there’s a possibility they’ll be back.”
    The tension in the small room was climbing. Detective Fisher stared down Dad, who in turn wore a pinched expression.
    “It’s been over a year since the murders,” I said. “Maybe they did get what they wanted.” My nerves were ready to burst out of my skin. I chewed on a fingernail. What if the detective was right? What if they were hunting for something specific and didn’t find it? Dad, Rob, and I had always assumed that the home invasion was random. Now that my head was clearer, I suddenly remembered Mom had once told me she kept family heirlooms in a safe place. Maybe something in her collection was of interest. I knew Dad had all those treasures somewhere.
    Dad gently pulled my hand from my mouth. “Maybe you should wait outside.”
    The police station could burst into flames, and I still wasn’t leaving. I lowered my hands to my lap. “I’m not going to freak.” This would be one time when I would welcome a panic attack if it meant I got to hear some news, even if it was scary.
    Detective Fisher’s eyes turned soft. “Lacey, while I tend to agree with you, sometimes criminals do things that don’t make sense. Sometimes they lay low until they think we’ve forgotten about them. And as long as we’re still beating the streets asking questions, they probably won’t surface.” He rubbed his unshaven face. “Do any of you know the name Dennis Weeks?”
    “No,” Dad said flatly.
    I shook my head.
    “What about you, Rob? You manage your father’s club. Ever hear that name around there?”
    Rob eyed Dad. “Can’t say I have.”
    With my brother’s nervousness and curt responses, I was beginning to get the feeling he knew something. Then I dismissed the thought. He would tell the police if he knew anything. He wanted justice just as strongly as Dad and I did.
    Detective Fisher opened the folder, pulled out a picture, and slid it across the table. “Maybe this will jog your memories.”
    Dad studied it briefly. Rob