Don't Make a Sound (Sawyer Brooks #1)(33)

Sawyer bent over, hands propped on her knees, and counted backward from ten. Before she had a chance to gather her emotions, she heard a group of people talking about a young woman who was killed last night.

Up ahead, she spotted Aspen heading toward the parking lot. She had to run to catch up to him. “What’s going on?” she asked him when she caught up.

Aspen turned toward her, his expression serious.

“Is it true?” Sawyer asked. “Was someone murdered last night?”

“I have to go, Sawyer.” He turned to leave.

She stayed close to his side. “Who was it?”

He looked at his phone. “Isabella Estrada,” he said as he walked.

Sawyer’s stomach turned. “Her brother, Caden, was in my graduating class. Did you know Isabella?”

“I don’t think so. The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

Hoping to ask him about what Melanie had said about Bob Stanley, she opened the passenger door of Aspen’s truck just as the engine roared to life. She hopped in and buckled up.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m coming with you.”

“That’s not a good idea. Chief Schneider wouldn’t like me bringing gawkers.”

“I’m a reporter.”

“That’s even worse.”

“Then tell him the truth,” she said. “That I wouldn’t get out of the truck, and you didn’t have any choice in the matter.”

He didn’t look happy with her as he pulled out of the parking space. The ride was bumpy as he drove on the narrow, unpaved road leading through the woods to the main thoroughfare running through River Rock.

“You should have stayed with your parents,” he said, his eyes on the road ahead.

“They won’t even know I’m gone.”

“You haven’t changed much, have you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You never did take no for an answer. You were always stubborn.”

“Maybe,” she answered. “But I also know when to back down.”

He seemed to think about that as they drove, then said, “I was surprised to see your uncle there.”

“Uncle Theo showed up at the house this morning too. The asshole wants my forgiveness.” She shook her head, glad that her hands were no longer trembling. “That will never happen.”

Her gaze drifted to the scenery outside. She found herself thinking of the girls who were murdered. “How old is—was Isabella?”

“Sixteen.”

“I wonder if there’s any connection between this murder and the others,” she said.

“First of all,” he said, “it’s up to the chief to decide whether or not we’re dealing with a homicide.”

“Got it.”

“And as to others, you’re referring to Peggy Myers and Avery James.”

“That’s right.”

“I talked to the chief, and he said people don’t talk about those girls any longer.”

“Why not?”

“The citizens of River Rock want to move on. They no longer want to be associated with murder and death.” He made a right onto Cold Creek Trail.

He seemed different from the way she remembered him. He was older now. Mature. “It’s nice that everyone wants to sweep all the craziness under the rug and pretend all that horrible stuff never happened,” Sawyer said. “But it is what it is, plain and simple.”

“What do you mean?”

She kept her gaze on his profile while he drove. “River Rock is death,” she said. “It’s also misery and rape and neglect. In my opinion, River Rock stands for everything bad in the world.”

Aspen visibly stiffened. “You don’t live here anymore. The people who stayed, the ones who have nowhere else to go, would like to move on.”

Again, she thought about the long summer days they’d spent together, especially after Rebecca went missing. Once Gramma moved in, she’d seen less and less of Aspen.

“You never said goodbye.”

His statement surprised her. He was angry with her, annoyed at the very least. She tried to think, tried to slip back in time and remember. Had she left him like that—without so much as a goodbye? She rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“No, I am. I was so wrapped up in getting out of here, leaving River Rock for good, that I didn’t stop to think about anyone but myself.” She wondered suddenly if Harper had felt the same way when she’d left.

Aspen said nothing, his gaze on the path ahead, another dirt road lined by oaks, pines, and thick brush. Before anything more could be said, they had arrived. There was a fire truck and two police vehicles to the left. He parked his truck between two trees and jumped out.

Chief Schneider looked surprised to see Aspen.

“I heard about the homicide on the scanner,” Aspen told him.

Sawyer watched Aspen step over the yellow crime tape still being rolled out so he could talk to the chief.

Her insides turned, her gaze fixated straight ahead on the young girl tied to the wide, mossy trunk of an oak tree. Thick rope circled the dead girl’s naked body multiple times from neck to ankles. Her skin was milky white, her eyes wide and fearful, mouth gaping open—stuffed to the brim with brittle leaves and stems seemingly scooped up from the forest floor.