CHAPTER XVIII

The hairless farm looked different as fork pulled up. The tattered yellow crime scene

tape had been removed from the front door. On either side, the curtains and blinds

were pulled wide and every window was propped to jar. The mid-morning summer's already

fierce and fork reached for his hat as he stepped out of the car. He tucked the box of

carons and billy school things under his arm and walked up the path. The front door was

open. Inside, the smell of bleach had eased a little.

Not found Barb crying in the master bedroom. She was perched on the edge of Luke and

Carrons' queen-sized bed. The contents of a drawer up-handed onto the pale green duvet.

Balled up socks and crumpled boxer shorts mingled with loose coins and pen lids. Tears

slid from Barb's cheeks onto a piece of coloured paper in her lap.

She jumped when fork knocked gently, and as he went to her, he could see she was holding

a handmade father's day card. She wiped her face on her sleeve and flapped the card

in fork's direction. No secret safe from a good clean-out is it? Turns out billy was

as bad as spelling as his father. She tried to laugh, but her voice broke.

Falk felt as shoulders heave as he sat down and put his arm around her. The room was stiflingly

hot as sweltering air seeped in through the open windows. He didn't say anything.

Whatever the windows were letting out of that house was more important than anything they

could let in. Jerry asked me to come by, fork said, when Barb's sobs subsided a little.

She sniffed. Yes, love, he said. He's clearing out the big barn, I think.

Did he say what it was about? Falk said, wondering when, if ever, Jerry would see fit to confide

in his wife. Barb shook her head. No. Maybe he wants to give you something of Luke's,

...