On Her Father's Grave (Rogue River #1)(21)

She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she had to get rid of it. She dimly heard Luis radio for an ambulance. She glanced at the jug that the liquid had come from. Someone had written “HCL” on the side with a black marker.

Her brain tugged a name out of the little-used high school chemistry section of its memories: hydrochloric acid.

She inhaled, which made her lungs burn and more tears stream from her eyes. But she didn’t know if it was a result of the liquid or the sight of Paul’s burned face and peeling skin.

Stevie shuddered at the memory and refocused on Ted Warner’s information on her patrol car’s computer. It’d been six months since she’d walked into hell in that barn. She wiped at her dripping nose and the tears that’d leaked from her eyes. She still saw Paul’s ruined face when she tried to sleep at night. Or when a place like Ted Warner’s poked at her memories. LA had lost what little remaining luster it’d held for her after that incident. Meth labs were everywhere, but she’d hoped that maybe at home, there’d be fewer of them.

And perhaps, just maybe, the criminals wouldn’t be as cruel.

She swallowed hard, put the car in drive, and headed back to the office to ask if any of the other officers found it odd that obnoxious Ted Warner was driving the nicest truck in town.



Zane tapped his pen as he sat across the table from Grace Ellis and her parents. The three of them had shown up ten minutes ago, Grace with red eyes and her parents with determined looks on their faces. Zane had wanted to interview Hunter’s girlfriend after reading Stevie’s notes from her interview, but had hoped to learn the type of compound in Hunter’s blood first.

There’d been a moment of confusion when Grace’s father had wanted to speak with Roy. Zane had brought him up to date. The parents had exchanged a look but seemed to accept him in his new role. “Tell him what you told us,” Mr. Ellis had prodded his daughter.

Grace had shrugged. “I saw Hunter talking with an adult when he first got to the lake.”

“Who?” asked Zane.

“I don’t know. I figured it was someone’s dad. I didn’t seem him around again.”

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see his face.”

“Then how did you know it wasn’t another kid?” Zane asked.

“He dressed like an adult. You know . . . shorts, but old guy shorts. And tennis shoes instead of flip-flops.”

“So it was an old man?”

“No. He wasn’t old. I meant old like you.” She blushed and looked at her hands. “You’re not old, you’re older.”

Zane sighed. “You can’t tell me what he looked like, but you know it wasn’t a teen and wasn’t someone old.”

“Right!” Grace looked pleased. “You know. The shorts were something that were probably popular ten years ago.”

Zane wondered what Grace would think about the shorts he’d worn to the Taylors’ last night. “How about hair color?”

“Not gray. Not blond. Dark.”

“Taller than Hunter?”

Grace shut her eyes and thought. “No. Definitely shorter. And he wasn’t fat. He was about the same as everyone else there.”

“Why didn’t you tell this to the first officer that questioned you?”

Her face fell. “I didn’t think of it. All I thought about was what Hunter was doing during the party and what’d happened to him.” She grabbed a tissue from the box that Zane had set on the table. His past experiences with teenage girls had taught him that they easily break into tears. Especially when they’d been brought in for underage drinking, and he’d had to call their parents to come pick them up. Grace wasn’t in that situation, but Zane had placed the tissue box on the table out of habit.

“I miss him. The stupid jerk.” She blew her nose.

Zane looked at the parents. Grace seemed to come from a quiet middle-class family. He knew the parents by sight, and at least he hadn’t met them at midnight over their daughter’s antics as he had some teens’ parents. He decided to take a risk with the town’s gossip network. “We’re keeping an eye out for something Hunter might have taken that stopped his heart or lung function. Is there anything in your medicine cabinet that Hunter might have helped himself to when he was visiting Grace? Like a prescription?”

Three jaws fell open.

“Hunter wouldn’t take something from my parents!” Grace exclaimed. But a fleeting doubt crossed her face.

The parents looked at each other, then back at Zane. “The only prescriptions we have on hand are for acid reflux,” Mrs. Ellis said. “I don’t think that would do it, would it? I don’t know what the overdose symptoms are.”

“No pain medication or tranquilizers on hand? Maybe something you have tucked in the back just in case?”

The parents shook their heads. Zane nodded. He’d figured as much. His earlier conversation with Hunter’s parents had gone the same way. Shock, denial, then consideration. Hunter’s mom kept tranquilizers, but a check of her supply had shown none were missing. He wished the medical examiner had the drug identification from the state lab. It’d be easier to find the source of what had killed Hunter if he knew what he was looking for.