Paranoid(14)

“I’m just letting you know.”

“And accusing us.” Harper let out a sigh. “I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Rachel said, refusing to be baited. She hadn’t accused them, not really. She’d just let her kids know what was happening. “Okay.” She pocketed the bottle once more. “Come on. Get your backpacks and let’s all get into the car.”

“So now we just forget about it?” Harper raised a dubious eyebrow and pursed her lips in disgust.

“No way. Never forget about it. Xanax can be dangerous. You know that.” She was serious.

“Yeah, I do. So does he.” Harper hooked a thumb at her brother. “Oh, God, forget it. Okay? We’ve heard this all before. From, like, everyone. Teachers, and Dad, now you. We get it.”

So . . . that was that. Rachel decided she’d made her point and didn’t want to push it. So she changed the subject and said to the dog, waiting expectantly at the door, “You want to go for a ride?” Reno’s tail swept the floor frantically. “See, he’s ready,” she said to Dylan as she opened the back door and Reno shot through.

Harper rolled her eyes. “God, Mom, he’s a dog. He’s ready to go anywhere.”

“Take a lesson.”

“Yeah, right.” She shoved her phone into her backpack and stormed out, letting the screen door slam behind her. “I’m driving.”

“Not this morning. We’re late.”

Dylan, tiny earbuds already in his ears, camo backpack slung across one shoulder, walked past the refrigerator without grabbing anything for lunch. His head bouncing to some silent beat, he ignored his jacket hanging on a rack near the back door and strode outside.

“Not your problem,” Rachel told herself as she headed for the detached garage and her ten-year-old Ford Explorer. If he got cold enough or hungry enough, he’d learn. Both kids knew the rules. Once they were in high school, they had to take some responsibility. Still she had to bite her tongue and refrain from announcing that the temperature wasn’t going to get out of the fifties this morning.

Surely he’d learn. Surely.

They piled into the SUV, Harper stung that she wasn’t allowed to take control of the wheel, riding shotgun, the dog and Dylan claiming the backseat.

The morning, as usual, was off to a fantastic start.





CHAPTER 4


Kayleigh called.

Not a text, but an actual phone call.

This time Cade picked up. It was stupid to keep avoiding her.

“So what? Now you don’t respond to texts?” she asked, and he imagined her green eyes sparking with a mixture of amusement and irritation. She’d always had a keen sense of humor; that had been part of the attraction. That and long nights when they’d been forced together during stakeouts. They’d both been detectives with the sheriff’s department. That, like so many other things, had changed. Unconsciously, he rubbed at the scar on his neck, a reminder that he’d nearly lost his life.

“Busy,” he said, which wasn’t really a lie. “Just trying to get settled in at my desk ”

“Well, don’t.” She was all business. “We’ve got something going down here and I think you’ll want to check it out.”

“What? And down where?”

“Homicide. At least it looks like that. In Hillside Acres, on Bonaventure Boulevard, at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

Hillside Acres was a development that had never been annexed to the city.

Kayleigh told him the address and added, “I know it’s not your jurisdiction, but I thought you’d want in.” He was already out of his chair and reaching for his jacket.

“The victim is a woman. Violet Sperry. Husband was out of town, came home early and found her in the foyer. ME’s already here and they’ll be packing her up soon, so you’d better get over here.”

“Jesus. I know her.”

“Knew,” Kayleigh corrected.

“Yeah. Right. Knew. She went to school with Rachel.”

“And everyone else in town, I gather.”

“Yeah. I’m on my way.” He clicked off and headed down the short hallway and through the tiny break area to the back door. It was starting to rain, the wind kicking up, and as he drove out of town he caught a glimpse of the river, white caps roiling as if it were November instead of May.

Someone had killed Violet Sperry? Why? He didn’t know much about her, other than she’d been in Rachel’s loose group of high school friends and had testified during the trial. She and Rach weren’t close, as far as he knew, even though Violet, like so many others, had settled in Edgewater. He drove past the high school on his way out of town, thought about his kids for a second and his own misspent youth for another couple of beats before passing the old cannery where Luke Hollander, another victim of homicide, had died. Cade, a couple of years older and in college at the time, hadn’t been involved in the tragedy that night, but both his younger brother, Court, and, of course, Rachel, had been there. Rachel had even been charged with her slain brother’s murder.

Even she believed it.

At least they’d reduced the charge to negligent manslaughter, but even that crime had been washed from her record, the judge citing her age, disorientation, and conflicting testimony of everyone who had been there.