“I bought this house about four years ago.” Pride echoed in his words. “I’d never owned anything in my life. I lived mostly in apartments while trying to go to school and just keep my head above water financially, but when I decided to get custody of Lydia, I wanted someplace special to bring her.”
Together they walked toward his front door. Erica couldn’t help a glance over her shoulder, wondering at her feeling of being watched. She forced herself to brush it aside. Once inside the house, her uneasiness disappeared and she gasped in delight. “It’s beautiful. Did you decorate this yourself?”
A flush crept up into Max’s cheeks. “Well, I did the woodwork, the molding and the painting. A friend of mine helped me out with the decorating aspect.”
A friend? Erica couldn’t help wondering if that friend was more than just a “friend.” A little dart of jealousy shot through her and she stood still, shocked by the feeling. Not wanting to dwell on it, she turned back to admiring his home. Shiny hardwood floors made her pause. “Should I take off my shoes?”
He laughed. “No. You’re fine.”
A simple, classy chandelier hung overhead. Stainless steel appliances and granite graced the kitchen to the right. “It’s truly lovely.”
He motioned toward the steps. “Lydia’s room is upstairs.”
Erica followed him up the steps, her fingers trailing over the banister. At the top, he turned left and entered the first room on the right. Erica stepped inside and was once again impressed. “I can’t believe she didn’t want to stay here. It’s charming, but simple enough she could put her own stamp on it if she wanted to.”
Max gave her a warm yet sad smile. “Yeah, well, I’m still not her favorite person so—” He shrugged, and she could tell his heart was heavy.
She laid a hand on his arm. “Maybe she’ll come around soon.”
“Maybe.”
Even though she felt sorry for Max and the angst his sister was putting him through, she still couldn’t get past the fact that the evidence pointed to Lydia’s guilt. She removed her hand.
“What if she’s staying away because she’s guilty and she’s afraid you’ll turn her in to the cops?”
He sighed and dropped his head. “It’s more likely that she’s staying away because she believes that I think she’s guilty. That’s one of the reasons I have to find her. I have to convince her that I believe in her.”
“Do you have to convince her? Or yourself?”
Max stared at her. “You’ve already got her tried and convicted.”
“And you’ve bypassed the evidence and are letting your emotions get in the way.”
Max held up a hand. “We’ve agreed to disagree. Can we please not argue about it?”
Erica sighed and looked at the closet. “May I?”
“Sure.”
She opened the door and saw a few outfits and several shoe boxes lined up on the shelf. She went through them, hoping to find anything that might lead her to Lydia. Disappointment spiked when she only found shoes that would appeal to a young woman. “Did you buy this stuff for her?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got good taste.”
He gave a short laugh and pulled open the top drawer of the dresser. “I’ve searched her room each time she’s stayed and never found anything.” He rummaged through the next drawer. “I think she figured I’d search and just didn’t bother bringing anything here.”
Erica planted her hands on her hips. “You could have told me that.”
His sad smile speared her. “You needed to see for yourself.”
He was right. She gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, and they finished the search together in silence.
They came up empty.
Erica ran a weary hand over her face. “Well, it was worth a try. Thanks for letting me look.” She thought for a moment then said, “Do you have time to go to Bea Harrison’s house?”
He glanced at his watch. “I can call her and see if she’s home.”
“That would be great.”
As Max called, Erica stepped outside in the chilly afternoon air.
From the corner of her eye, Erica noticed a green car rolling down the street. “Max, I think that’s my brother’s—”
A gunshot cracked and wood from the porch roof rained down on them.
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