Paranoid(78)
“I don’t think either Annessa or Violet planned to come.”
“Even though they still live in the area?”
“Maybe that’s why,” she said sarcastically. “Anyway, it really pissed Lila off. She wants to make the reunion one of the best ever or something along those lines. You know Stepmommy-Dearest. Always wants the biggest and best; to make a splash.”
“Watch out, your claws are showing.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just sayin’.”
They’d walked to the living room again and he stopped near the door. “Is there anything else that links Violet and Annessa?”
“Oh, geez, I don’t know. I haven’t kept up with either of them.” She thought for a second. “All I know is that they both moved away for a time, got married. Neither had kids and they ended up back here. Violet came back because of her husband’s business—Leonard Sperry and the furniture store—and Annessa’s husband, whatever his name, Cooper—”
“Clinton.”
“Clint. Yeah, that’s right, he’s some big developer who bought some property around here. Annessa moved back here pretty recently, in the last couple of years, to help out with her parents. They were in their seventies and . . . I don’t remember but I think they’re both gone now, but don’t quote me on that. I could be wrong.
“Anyway, Annessa and Violet didn’t run in the same circles in high school, and I don’t think they became friends recently. At least I hadn’t heard that they connected.”
“But they were both at the cannery that night?”
It wasn’t a question and they both knew what night he was referring to.
“Yeah.” She eyed her ex. “But a lot of people were.”
“I know.”
“So what? Are you trying to freak me out? Because if you are, it’s working.”
“No.” He took a step toward her, and for a second she thought he might cross the room and wrap his arms around her. Instead, he stayed near the door. “I just want you and the kids to be careful.” He reached for the knob, then pointed at Reno, who had curled into his bed near the bookcase. “I’ll be back. Keep the dog on alert, reset the alarm, and lock up the house.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
And then he was gone.
No kiss.
No arms wrapped around her.
No hint of the intimacy they’d once shared.
Which was a good thing; what she’d insisted upon.
Right?
Why then the tinge of disappointment when she threw the dead bolt on the front door?
“Because you’re an idiot,” she whispered before engaging the alarm system near the back of the house, then starting her nightly routine of double-checking all the locks on the doors and latches on the windows.
CHAPTER 24
Kayleigh was waiting for him.
Cade recognized her slim form in the strobing lights of the cruisers barricading each end of the block in front of St. Augustine’s.
He parked and ducked under the crime scene tape, thus avoiding a TV crew that stood by a white news van, the logo of a Portland station emblazoned across the side panels. The reporter exchanged a disappointed look with the cameraman, who juggled a shoulder cam complete with microphone and lights at the ready.
Kayleigh stood, her hair pulled back, a baseball cap low over her eyes as she talked with Nowak and Voss near the open gate. She wore tight jeans and a coat that hit her midthigh. Deep in discussion, Kayleigh looked up as he approached. “Hey,” she said. “Got your message.”
He nodded. “I see. They bring you up to speed?”
“Yep.”
“You all think this murder might be linked to the Sperry homicide?” Voss asked.
“Yep.” Cade was certain of it.
Voss snorted. “Makes you wonder what the hell’s going on in this small town. No homicides in twenty damned years and now two within a week.”
“Two victims who witnessed the shooting twenty years ago,” Cade said.
“Oh, good Lord,” Voss said, “you’re not trying to link what happened tonight to the Luke Hollander homicide twenty years ago?”
“Not yet.”
“I saw you pulled the case file.”
“Just brushing up on what happened.”
“My ass. I know you, Ryder. You think you’re on to something.”
“Maybe nothing.”
Voss caught his gaze. “All good on the home front?”
“As good as can be expected.”
Voss snorted. “What a mess.”
Kayleigh didn’t remark, but one eyebrow arched beneath the bill of her cap.
“The ME?” Cade asked, turning the conversation from his personal life.
“Been here and gone. Body, too. On its way to the morgue.” Voss shook her head. “I’m heading that way. Meeting the husband. He’ll ID her, but it’s just a formality. She matches the photo on her license, which still lists her residence as Seattle. The husband explained that she hadn’t gotten around to getting a new one in Oregon. They weren’t sure they were moving here permanently.”
“How did he sound?”
“Okay. Considering. But who can really tell on a phone? The wireless connection wasn’t all that great. He was already driving south. Has a friend or business partner with him.” She checked her watch. “Not much traffic, clear night. He should be arriving soon.”