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Saw eight calls to one number that wasn’t saved.

I went to the messages and saw the same number had been texted twice.

Darla Darling:

I need to talk to you. It’s about your brother.

Unknown:

I don’t care about him.

Darla:

Please, it’s important.

Unknown (Jessamy):

I really, really don’t care, mother. I don’t want anything to do with him.

Darla:

Please.

Darla:

Jessamy, please.

Darla:

Please, please. It’s important.

There’d been no reply from Jessamy. Likely because she’d blocked her mother.

I shook my head and went back into the main living room.

Then outside to look for Terry Darling’s phone.

The ME held it out to me. “It was in his pocket.”

I checked his phone and found much the same.

He’d tried to message and get ahold of his daughter, too.

She’d also blocked him.

Shaking my head, I was just about to head back inside when the familiar beat-up Volkswagen Fox rolled up on two donut tires.

Jesus Christ.

This woman had a fucking death wish.

I started down the steps and moved toward her car.

She got out and glared at me and snapped full of hostility, “Why am I here?”

I gestured toward the porch.