Fresh off writing Hollow Judgment, I turned my attention to the next genre for my patrons, a mystery. While I had other detectives available to me, I kept circling back to Kyle Rickman. Once I settled on him, I needed the right crime for him to unravel, and the idea that caught my attention started with a simple question.
What would you do if you received a letter written in the handwriting of someone the courts had already declared dead? I would probably dismiss it as a prank or a forgery, as I think most people would. But what if someone couldn’t? That became the question I wanted to explore through Clara Marsh.
When her certainty brings the matter to private investigator Kyle Rickman, a single line begins to unravel the quiet assumptions surrounding a long-settled disappearance. What follows is not a race against time, but a careful examination of a story everyone believes they already mastered.
In this tale, old rooms, lingering doubts, and a handful of small inconsistencies draw Kyle deeper into a mystery hidden behind closed doors. Some questions refuse to stay buried, and sometimes the most troubling evidence is the piece that should not exist at all.
Excerpt of Widow's Conviction
Kyle leaned against the wall and stared at the dining table. He lifted the letter Clara Marsh had given him. She claimed the writing was her husband’s. The court declared him dead two years ago after he disappeared on a rafting trip, yet the conviction behind her words compelled Kyle to come. Inside the boarding home Thomas’s sister inherited, he looked toward Thomas’s widow.
Clara sat nearest the window, having refused the seat Evelyn had pulled out for her. The dwindling light washed over Clara’s face, draining what little color remained from her fair skin. Kyle’s gaze drifted to the table where Evelyn buffed her delicate nails. Kyle cleared his throat and crossed the room to lay the piece of paper before Thomas’s sister.
She glanced at the sheet and scoffed. “My brother is dead. Why are you wasting our time?”
Kyle leaned down and thumped the solitary line.
I am still in the house.
He rested a hand on the woman’s chair and drummed its back. “Then you shouldn’t be concerned with me searching the entire property.”
Evelyn’s jaw tightened as she lowered the tool to the table. “My issue is entertaining a fantasy.”
“Clara knows the layout.” Kyle patted the letter and headed out, Clara hurrying after him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
A few seconds later, Evelyn groaned and hurried after them. “You don’t have permission to traipse about my property.”
Kyle lifted a finger as he guided Clara to lead him. “However, based on the court’s current ruling, you aren’t the sole owner. You own it with Clara.”
“That travesty is about to be undone,” Evelyn said, grabbing Kyle’s shoulder.
The detective slipped out of her grasp and ushered her in front. “While you may win your appeal, today Clara has equal rights to be here as you do. If you’re insisting on accompanying us, don’t get in our way.”
As the trio walked through the corridors, Kyle dragged a finger along the chair molding and examined the dust coating his fingertip. When Clara stopped, Kyle grabbed her wrist as he pointed at a patch of exposed wood. “Something was here not that long ago.”
“A vase,” Evelyn said, pressing her lips together.
Kyle released Clara’s arm and tapped the edge of the table. “Where is it?”
Evelyn glared at Kyle through narrowed eyes. “I don’t know.”
Kyle’s gaze rested upon the disturbed layer of dust near the door Clara intended to open. “Is this Thomas’s?”
Clara nodded.
Evelyn stepped forward, reaching out to grab Kyle. “It’s been sealed since he vanished.”
Kyle opened the door as he turned to Evelyn.
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