The Last Sister (Columbia River)(28)

Madison ignored them; they never physically touched her. She shrugged when Emily tried to talk to her about it, and Emily’s heart broke over the treatment of her younger sibling. But the mean girls spread stories, passed from student to student, and many liked to repeat the words to Emily to see her reaction.

Leann had no bone to pick with Madison. And Madison’s lack of response should have taken the joy out of Leann’s harassment, but Emily responded. Fear of consequences didn’t stop Emily when she had a little sister to protect.

The fuse of her temper was long. She rarely reacted out of anger. But the spark had traveled along the full length of her fuse when it came to Leann harassing Madison.

Madison was Emily’s responsibility.

Emily strode down the school hallway, her gaze fixed on the blonde ponytail amid four other ponytails of different hues. Emily’s utter preoccupation blurred the lockers, doors, and students she passed. She had one goal. “Leann!”

The ponies turned as one.

Emily stopped nearly nose-to-nose with Leann. Both of them were popular, both got good grades, and both had large circles of friends. The power balance was equal. Emily felt rather than saw other students stop and stare, their whispers white noise in her ears.

“Why did you spread that rumor about Madison?” Emily hissed. “I traced it back to you starting it at Bryan Sprig’s party. You know it’s not true.”

Leann looked to her ponies for support. “I think it’s true. Your sister is weird.”

“She’s a straight-A student.”

Leann shrugged. “Lots of psychopaths are smart.” A slow smile crossed her face. “You know, they say it can stem from a tragic event in childhood. Her brain probably cracked soon after your mother’s did.”

Emily couldn’t speak as the head pony turned and led her herd away.

A deluge of emotions slammed into Emily, making sweat start under her armpits, Leann’s sham smile filling her mind. They’d butted heads several times since high school. All of it instigated by Leann.

She wasn’t worth Emily’s time.

Emily turned back to the Anita Haircut door. Ignore her.

“I hear you found two dead bodies yesterday.”

She stiffened. “Go away, Leann.”

“I’m trying to get some facts for my article.”

“Then talk to the police.”

“I have. A statement from you would be helpful.”

Emily looked back at her. “You’ve never said a kind word about my family in person or in the paper.”

“I just report facts, Emily. That’s my job. Did yesterday stir up some bad memories for you?” Fake sympathy shone in her eyes. “Must have been horrible seeing something like that . . . so similar to your father’s death.”

Every cell in Emily’s body screamed for her to get inside the salon to put space between herself and the leech. But she didn’t. Warning bells rang in her brain as she slowly pivoted. She wasn’t angry, but she craved satisfaction.

And thinking before she spoke wasn’t her strong suit.

“How is that fact-reporting job treating you? I heard they cut everyone’s pay again.”

“Tell me what happened yesterday. The public deserves to know.” Ignoring Emily’s comment and all business now, Leann tapped the screen of her phone, and Emily assumed she’d turned on a recorder.

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

“I heard your tires were slashed later that day.”

“What about it?”

“Seems odd to happen so soon after you discovered two murders.”

“I also burned my fingers at work,” Emily said in a mild tone. “Do you think that’s odd so soon after the murders?”

Leann tapped her screen again and dropped the phone in her purse, giving Emily a side-eye. “Sarcasm isn’t appropriate. Two people are dead. I understand the FBI is in town to give a hand in the investigation.”

Emily said nothing, thinking of Zander Wells. She didn’t need to tell Leann about the agent. It had taken less than one day for her to see that Zander was damned good at his job. And when her aunts swarmed, it hadn’t intimidated him. Another plus in Emily’s eyes.

“If you don’t want to talk, I’m sure one of your aunts will.” Leann edged closer, fake curiosity in her eyes. “I wonder how they feel about the second hanging in Bartonville’s history.”

Emily was finished with the conversation. And Leann. “If you hound my aunts with a single question, I will call your boss.”

Emily spun back to the door and yanked it open, the bell on the inner handle clanging loudly. Inside three women stared at her, their mouths slightly open. They hovered at the window, where they’d enjoyed a view of the altercation. The door swung shut behind Emily, and she silently groaned as she met their eyes.

Anita was the first to recover, strolling back to her salon chair as she spoke. “I see that snippy reporter has you in her sights again.” She waved her scissors so her client in the black nylon cape would sit back down. “Stay away from her, Emily. One time she wanted an interview about the shop, but it turned out she was fishing for information about one of my clients. I don’t gossip,” she said firmly as she combed and snipped at the wet head of her client, who nodded in affirmation.