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I reached into the box but pulled my hand back quickly.

I grabbed my phone and called Calloway.

“I need you to come to my apartment,” I said after he answered on the first ring.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep, but I need you to get here.”

“On my way.”

“This is some F’ed up shit, Hazel.” Sheriff Calloway sat on the edge of my mattress, in the same spot I’d been in when I finally cut the box open.

“I agree.” I handed him the pendant. “I found this out by Jerry Smoot today.”

Calloway squinted at my hand before he took the pendant. He held it in the box, comparing it to the one in there.

“It’s almost identical, but not quite.”

“Like the knife.” I grabbed my phone and swiped my finger over the screen. “I found things like the pendant for sale at a few different places. I emailed you the links. As for the other items, you can get those almost anywhere.”

“You think someone recently purchased this one?” He held it up.

“It’s just a guess.” I shrugged.

“What does all of this mean?”

“I have no idea. Sheriff, I have no idea what the significance of any of these things could be. Until learning about the classes my father taught, I thought I knew all there was to know about him. At least all the important things. These items are more mystery to me.”

“Your life was different in many ways.”

“What if I’d never gathered these boxes and opened them?”

“Maybe your subconscious knew you should.”

“I don’t know. Sheriff, my life was normal to me, and probably led to who and what I am now. My father wasn’t strange about our life, Sheriff. I know people assign personalities to taxidermists, and my experience doesn’t negate that my father might have been a little strange, but I’m sure he wasn’t cruel, which is hard for some people to understand. He loved wildlife. He didn’t hate it. He loved preserving its beauty, but you know how it is, people will draw their own conclusions.” I stopped speaking and frowned. I’d given that speech or one like it a lot of times over the years, but this time it was mostly for me. I knew Wilmot better than anyone had. Right? Besides, Calloway didn’t need to hear it.

And he wasn’t wrong. If normal is the conformation to some standard that the majority of the population buys into, then it’s true, my upbringing wasn’t normal.

But it also wasn’t murderous. I was sure of that.

“I know,” Calloway said, responding not only to my speech but also to what he probably knew I was thinking. “But this is important. I’ll take these things. They have to mean something.” He nodded at the knife. “I wonder when we’ll find one of these.”

“I used to have one like it when I was a kid. I still carry a similar one.”

Calloway’s eyes widened briefly. “Well, lots of folks carry these knives.”

“Yep.”

“Still though, be on your toes.”

“Always.” I nodded and sat on the small chair that was tucked up against the wall next to the door. “Did you find my mother’s sister?”

“Oh …” Calloway reached into his pocket and pulled out a small evidence bag. He took a few moments to put the pendant inside it and then seal it closed. I assumed he was thinking of what to tell me. Finally, he said, “I found her, but she’s not what I expected.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s not well, Hazel. She lives in a situation.”