The Pieces Left Behind

The Pieces Left Behind MAGNOLIA CREEK BOOK ONE RYAN MARIE Copyright © 2023 by Ryan Marie All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Ryan Marie at [email protected] The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Cover artwork by Renee Reynolds Photo licensed by Depositphotos, Konradbak #154760724 Edition Number One published 2023 Created with Vellum Dedication For my amazing family who will probably never read this…and that’s okay. Contents A Note to Readers Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Epilogue Dagen’s Epilogue Acknowledgments About the Author Mood Music Cold — Chris Stapleton I Got You — Bebe Rhexa Fade Into You — Mazzy Star Tennessee Whiskey — Chris Stapleton Dancing in the Dark — Cannons Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You, Baby — Cigarettes After Sex Pull You Through — Maggie Rose Sex Is On Fire — Cannons Only Want you — Rita Ora Blue Moon Revisited (a song for Elvis)— Cowboy Junkies Wild Horses — The Rolling Stones Wild Horses — The Sundays Sky Without Stars — Vella Sweet Jane — Cowboy Junkies It’s You — Maggie Rose A Note to Readers CONTENT & TRIGGER WARNINGS The book you are about to read contains themes related to mental illness, death and sexual assault. If you find these topics emotionally triggering, please practice mindfulness and do not continue. For a comprehensive list of warnings, visit my website: One CAMILLE A loud clap of thunder bursts through the air, momentarily silencing the tinkering of the rain as it landed on the roof of the car. A cool breeze swirled my hair around like a cyclone as I stood on the front porch. I hugged my sweater closer to my body, trying to ward off the bite of the cold chill that rippled over me. The weatherman said this rain would stick around for the week. The storm was rolling in and the eye would soon hover, dumping pounding rain on our little slice of heaven by the sea. People all along the coastline were prepping for rising waters. Sandbags littered garages, and anything that couldn’t be moved was tied down for safekeeping. I wonder if Robbie left any bags for me. I would really hate to have to bother the Floyd’s for help. Henry was getting up in years and besides that, all of his energy was spent caring for his dear MaryLou who's MS had become crippling. The hard clang of the car door shutting snapped me back to the scene in front of me. I watched as he started up the car and gave a small, apologetic nod before driving away. I was frozen, watching him drive off as the tail lights grew more and more faint, before disappearing all together. I knew that would be the last time I’d ever see him. He was gone. He left me, here, alone and with a head full of questions. He was gone. No warning. Without a second thought of how I would put my life back together. He was just gone and I was alone, broken and angry. All he left behind were pieces of me, of our life together, and a note that simply said; “I’m sorry but I can’t do it anymore.” Couldn’t do what anymore? What was so horrible that he just couldn’t fathom continuing on with our life? “Mrs. Stevens.” I spun around and met the sympathetic eyes of the young detective. She was young and pretty. Her eyes were bright and her skin looked like it had never seen a bad day. She still looked happy and hopeful. That would all change over time when the perils of her job would jade her. “Can we sit inside? I just have a few more questions I’d like to ask you.” Detective Manning gestured towards the living room and I nodded, stepping over the threshold and leading the way. “Mrs. Stevens-“ “Camille,” I cut her off, my voice dull and flat. “Right. Camille. Again, I’m so sorry for your loss. I will get through these questions as quickly as possible. I’m sure you have family you need to contact,” she stated, almost question like. My eyes cut to hers and conveyed all that I couldn’t say. With a small nod of her head, she continued. “Did your husband give you any indication of something that would have led him to…to taking his own life?” She struggled getting the words out, and I winced at the sound of them. She held up a plastic bag that contained my husband's scribbled handwritten note. His final words that he would ever say to me, jotted down on a scrap of paper. Eight small words was all I got before he ended it. “No,” I croaked, my throat growing tight. “Do you know if the company is in any kind of financial trouble? Or possibly a, uh, a drug problem, perhaps? Is it possible he owed money to someone?” My eyes burned with fire, and it took all the strength I had left in me to not fly off this couch and strangle little Miss Detective Barbie. How dare she. Robbie