Forgotten Boxes by Becki Willis Read Free Book Online Page A

death.
    Charity swept up the mess she created, made another sashay through
the small cottage, and proclaimed herself done. After turning out all the lights
and packing the boxes back into the trash bag and into the car, she took a moment
to say goodbye.
    “Aunt Nell, I have no idea why you lived such a sad, secluded
life. I’m sorry you and my mother were estranged. I’m sorry I never really knew
you.” She looked around the small living room. Without the shadow of the bullet-sheared
clothes, it was almost a pleasant, cozy scene. “I appreciate your generous gift,
but I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with it,” she admitted to the silent
room. “There’s a secret here, something to do with the clothes and the boxes. Until
I know what that is, I don’t think I can bring myself to stay here. So maybe I’ll
rent it out, maybe I’ll sell it. Whatever I choose, I hope it will please you. I’ll
try to do right by you, Aunt Nell, because I have a feeling you were done wrong
somewhere along the way.”
    Even though she had never really known her aunt, sadness pricked
at her eyes. She blinked the tears away with a sniff. “Bye, now. Rest in peace.”
    As Charity took the overgrown path out to her car, a sense of
apprehension slithered over her. She glanced around, but no one was in sight, only
the shaggy edges of flowering plants, trees, and that thick, overgrown hedge out
front. Her steps quickened.
    Unlocking the car door, her eyes fell on the trash bag in the
back seat. She had to do something with the boxes before her duty here was done.
But what?
     
    ***
    The boxes weighed heavily on Charity’s mind. Adding to the pressure,
a crazy thought tumbled around in her head. She tried to ignore the idea, tried
replacing it with a better solution. She even tried not thinking of the boxes at
all, but it was to no avail. By the time she pulled into the motel parking lot,
she knew what she had to do.
    As crazy as it sounded, as impossible as it might prove to be,
she was going to deliver the boxes to their rightful owners.
    Never mind that it was over thirty years later. Never mind that
the people may have moved or changed their names. Never mind that the addresses
— or the people— might no longer exist. Never mind that she did not know the area
or how far away the destinations might be. This was something she had to do.
    She spent the afternoon researching the names and addresses.
She knew from experience that here in the mountains, GPS was not always dependable.
Between the directional system, internet, local library, and the helpful woman at
the post office, Charity found three of the four addresses on the cross-section
of maps she had accumulated. The fourth address was no longer viable, but she kept
digging, trying to track it down. She admitted defeat by evening, but she went to
bed content, knowing she finally had a solid plan.

CHAPTER
SEVEN
     
     
    One last night in the cramped kitchenette,
and Charity left behind the over-priced accommodations. In truth, with her projected
destinations scattered all over the map, the little motel was more or less a central
location, but she was ready to see new sights.
    She could not leave, however, without one last visit to Dan’s
Market. A long shot that bordered on pathetic, she made one last attempt to see
the sugarmaker again. There was no sign of the bearded giant on any of the crowded
aisles, so it was with a resigned sigh that Charity bid farewell to the brief but
sweet dream of connecting with the man. Her consolation prize was one of the small
hand-carved trinkets she had previously admired.
    Typical , she lamented, as she drove out of town. Her luck
with men was less than stellar. Sad though it was, she could count her past boyfriends
on one hand and still have a finger or two to spare. Why should her luck be any
different this time?
    Not that she had time to dally with romance right now. She had
a mission to accomplish. A mystery to solve. A life to get