The Ghosts Of Her Past (A Completed, Steamy Romantic Mystery)

Part Thirty Five

We walked inside and it felt strange not being greeted by Lisa and Izzy.  The house was quite, too quiet, which made it seem creepy.  She died here, right in this living room, and I tried to push back my emotions for Blaine's benefit.

I looked at the sofa, and a memory did a replay.  Not too long ago we sat on that sofa and laughed so hard, we almost peed our pants watching American Pie.  As I looked around, I was haunted by happy memories that replay like ghostly images taunting me to run right back out the front door.

My eyes landed on photos Lisa put into frames of us during happier days. 

"Do you mind if I give this to my mother?  It shows how happy she was during her last years." He asked as he picked it up.

"Sure, I have plenty others at home, "  I said as he set it down on the table.

He looked over at me.  "Should we start in her bedroom?"

"That's as good of a place as any," I said, knowing if anything was in the common areas, I would have seen it before now.

I led him upstairs to her bedroom, and he shook his head.  I know what that's about, Lisa had more clothes than she would ever wear. 

"There's more in the guest bedroom closet," I said, and he didn't look surprised. 

"Let's do this together so we don't miss anything.  Where should we start?" He asked.

I shrugged.  "Maybe her drawers?"

He nodded, and we went through one that just had her panties and bra's, then another one with the same, but when I pulled out the third one, I turned my head quickly to see his reaction, but I heard a gagging noise. 

"Shut that!" He snapped, and pushed it closed.  I guess his sister's sex toys weren't well received.  I laughed so hard, I almost peed myself.

"That never happened, move on." He said, and his face was bright red with embarrassment.

"Oh come on, again?  If it makes you feel any better, I have two drawers." I'm lying, but the look on his face is priceless. 

"Jesus Christ, what's wrong with you?" He looked shocked as I laughed.

"I'm totally lying, but that was hilarious." I tried to speak through my fit of laughter, I actually don't own any, but that was hilarious. "What's wrong with sex toys anyway?" I love making him uncomfortable.

"They're fine, but do you have to talk about it?" He asked.

"Not normally, but you're fun to mess with, Blaine."

I opened the next drawer, and I guess I underestimated my friend.

"For fuck sakes." He said, and I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.  She had a drawer full of lube and more toys. He also said fuck again, I just can't...

I reached in and turned one on and he jumped away from me, but I was laughing too hard to chase him.

He reached for my arm and shook the dildo out of my hand and it fell to the floor and vibrated its way under her bed. 

"That's disgusting!" He said, and I had tears rolling out my eyes.

"I gave her that last Christmas, and see, she cleans them, because these wipes are almost gone." I said as I'm dying laughing.

"Just how close we're the two of you?" He gave me that same disgusted look, and I didn't know how I was able to laugh harder.  I shook my head as I tried to gasp for air.

"Close, but not that close." I managed to say as I went hinting for the runaway dildo.

"Good, cause that would be awkward." He said, and I tilted my head and his face turned even redder.

"Why?" I asked as I tried to calm my laugh.

"Nothing." He shook his head.

He must not be that great of a lay if he's this shy. I thread the dildo in and he shut that drawer and opened the next one, and that's where we found her journal. 

"Bingo." He said as he skimmed though it. 

"Let's start a pile here of things that could have some clues." I took it from him and placed it on the dresser.

We went through another dresser and found nothing.  There's a safe, but it was busted open.

"I swear, Blaine, this is bullshit. Just because she died, didn't give them the right to invade her privacy.  They knew right away it was natural causes." I'm so pissed, I can't see straight.

"You should be more concerned about where the money went than anything." He said.

"Aren't you worried?" I asked.

He shook his head.  "It's not my money, she left it to you."

Say what?

"I told you, I'm returning everything she left me." I said.

"Why?  She wanted you to have it, besides, my family and I don't really need or want it." He said.

My hands began to shake. "It's too much, a girl like me isn't made to have that kind of money."

He shrugged.  "Then donate it." He began reaching for boxes in the closet and pulling them down.

I sat down on the bed, and he looked at me.

"Why do I always find myself asking if you're okay?" He asked.

I sighed and rubbed my temples.  "It's just overwhelming."

He walked over and sat next to me.  "If this is too much we can leave."

I looked over at him.  "No, we have to get this done."

"Cora, if it weren't for that child, I promise I wouldn't ask you for anything, and again, I'm very sorry." He said, and I reached for his warm strong hand.

"I know, and I'm glad you're starting to relax around me." I squeezed his hand.

He looked down at my hand, then to me and he caught my gaze for just a moment.  "Your eyes aren't just like Cassidy's eyes.  They are similar, but yours are lighter around your pupils, and there are blue flecks if you look hard enough.  They're unique and very pretty." He said.

I couldn't say a word.

He cleared his throat.  "Anyway, let's go through these boxes." He he let go on my hand before he stood and brought them over to the bed.  They're all shoe boxes filled with receipts, but nothing very useful.

We went to put them back, but something caught my eye.  A envelope could barely be seen on the floor, it was hidden under some shoes.  I picked it up and must have gasped when I looked inside.  I looked on the floor under some clothes, and there are two.

"What's that?" He asked.

"They must have fallen from the safe.  There's a little bag with black hair in it." I said, and walked toward the bed.

"Black hair?" He asked as I dumped out the contents.

Among everything, was a tiny little bag with a clip of black hair, then a little crochet blue bootie fell out.

"Was it a boy?" He asked as I just stared down at all the contents on the bed.