Once Upon a Grind by Cleo Coyle

had
let
me.”
    â€œI know you would have. But she was right to get you out of the park. It’s no place for kids at night . . .”
    While the dog ate heartily, I petted Molly’s hair. “Honey, can I ask you a question?”
    â€œSure, Aunt Clare, ask me anything.”
    â€œDo you remember when I first found you both? Something fell out of your pocket—a silver-and-gold chain with diamond-shaped links. It had a broken clasp. Was that your chain, Molly?”
    The little girl shook her head. “I found it near the Oak Bridge.”
    â€œWe both did,” Jeremy said. “We thought it might belong to Anya.”
    â€œWhy is that?”
    â€œShe wore a chain like it around her neck,” Molly said. “It must be hers.”
    Jeremy nodded. “Since she went into the Ramble, we figured she must have lost it in there.”
    â€œI’m going to give it back,” Molly said, “when she picks me up on Monday after school. I wasn’t going to keep it or anything.”
    â€œI know that, honey, that’s not why I asked. I was wondering because it’s such a unique chain. I might want to get one like it. Tell me, do either of you remember what she wore on that chain? Was it a charm or . . . something else?”
    Like a golden key maybe?
I silently added.
    Jeremy shook his head. “Whatever was on Anya’s chain, she always had it tucked inside her shirt.”
    â€œNot always,” Molly volunteered. “I saw it a few times.”
    â€œSaw what?” I asked.
    â€œThe key. She wore a pretty gold key on that chain.”
    â€œBut you didn’t find the key, only the chain?”
    Both of them nodded and I frowned.
Was Anya’s key lost or did someone take it? And why was Leila given one exactly like it? Coincidence? Were they both involved with the same man? Did this “BB” give both of them keys?
    â€œOne last question, is that okay?”
    â€œSure,” they said.
    â€œDo you remember who exactly told you they saw the Pink Princess go into the Ramble?” I held my breath, hoping for a break, like maybe a credible witness with more info. But Molly shrugged and said—
    â€œJust some kids.”
    Jeremy nodded. “We didn’t know them—a couple of girls and a little boy. We were asking around and they remembered seeing her pink gown going into the woods, that’s all.”
    Penny barked and Molly hugged her. “All done already?” she sang. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you? How about a special treat for dessert!”
    As Molly went for the dog biscuits, Jeremy studied me. “Why do you want to know who saw Anya go into the Ramble, Aunt Clare? Is everything all right?”
    â€œEverything’s fine.”
    He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “When you were looking for Penny, did you see Anya?”
    â€œI saw her, yes,” I said carefully. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”
    But the detective’s son did worry about it. He glanced toward his sister and back to me, as if to say:
You don’t want me and Molly to know that something is wrong, do you?
    â€œI better get going,” I said quickly. “It’s getting late. Have a good night’s sleep,
both
of you. I’ll see you soon . . .”
    *   *   *
    T HOUGH I managed to avoid more questions from Jeremy, hurrying back to the living room failed to put me in the clear. Like an underfed predator, Mike’s ex-wife couldn’t wait to pounce—
    â€œAnd here she is again, our dog savior! You and Mike were made for each other, you know that, Clare? The big cop hero and the wannabe heroine. Well, now that you’re both reunited, you can go save the day
somewhere else
.”
    God, the woman was awful, and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to be somewhere else, but this was my chance to ask about Anya. So I swallowed my