Her thoughts struggled for her attention. She needed to focus on the scene — which she knew well enough to do in her sleep — but she couldn’t stop thinking about Duke. Dead.
The curtains opened, and she forced aside any extraneous thought. In a matter of minutes, she could put this all behind her. Lock herself in her room and blast music. She just needed a good excuse to get out of the celebration afterward. Or maybe she’d have to put on another performance before heading home.
Once the bright lights kicked on, her attention snapped to the play. Waited for the first few lines, belted hers out at just the right moment, and glided across the stage with ease. A few more lines before her solo song.
She’d nailed it all day, and she’d do it again. Two more characters’ lines, and then she was up. One more. It was an entire paragraph.
Against her better judgment, she scanned the audience, finding her parents front and center. Zeke was, of course, staring at a wall instead of paying attention. She turned her attention back to the stage when she saw Duke.
Duke.
Excitement flooded her. Until she realized it wasn’t him.
It couldn’t be, seeing as he was dead.
Tears misted her eyes.
Someone next to her cleared his throat.
Hadley spun around. Smacked into Ellie. Foreheads clunked together.
Some of the cast members gasped, and a few giggled.
Declan twirled her around so gracefully, it might as well have been part of the script, making up a line that was the perfect opening for her song.
She thanked him with her eyes and belted out the first line.
It came out flawlessly. Better than ever before.
Relief flooded her. She focused on the faces of her cast and the props. Stayed in the moment, moving slowly around the stage as she sang her heart out, losing herself until the last line.
Applause erupted. She paused, expecting it to quiet as quickly as it began.
It didn’t.
Several of the other cast members patted her on the back. Ellie said something, but the clapping was too loud. Declan gave her a thumbs-up behind his back, invisible to the audience.
The room finally quieted.
Hadley’s cheeks warmed as she smiled a thanks before turning to Ellie and delivering the wrong line, forcing her costar to improvise by blending her next two lines to make sense of Hadley’s fumble.
She needed to pull herself together. She could make or break this final scene.
This would be what everyone blogged about later.
No pressure.
Declan and Lucy began their song, giving Hadley a moment to collect herself.
The last tune ended, and Hadley jumped in with her line. The final few minutes went off without a single mistake.
The audience gave a standing ovation as the curtain fell. Everything was a blur as the cast hurried to the other side of the stage for their bow. The applause continued so long, they bent over more than a dozen times.
Mrs. Hargrove came out and handed roses to everyone as the clapping continued.
Eventually, everyone finally headed off the stage, trading congratulations on a job well done. They’d practiced for over a month, and all of their efforts had paid off.
Hadley led her classmates out to the hallway, where all the families waited for their stars. Parents of kids who didn’t even have lines gushed over them like they’d been the star of the show. It took her a moment to find her parents.
Dad handed her a bouquet of multi-colored roses and smashed her in an embrace. “That was the performance of a lifetime!”
She tried to return the hug, but he was squeezing too tightly. When he let go, she straightened her dress. “But I messed up a couple lines and—”
“And nothing. You were the best one up there.”
Luna bounced around, tugging on Hadley. “You’re famous!”
Hadley pulled her into her arms. “Maybe someday.”
“You are.” Luna snuggled against her.
Mom was next, and even Zeke hugged her, both congratulating her on a job well done. They spoke for a few minutes before Ellie and Lucy tugged on Hadley’s arms.
“Everyone’s leaving for the party. Come on!” She turned to Hadley’s parents. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Morris.”
Mom smiled. “Hello, girls.”
“What party?” Dad lifted a brow.
Hadley groaned. “It’s not really a party. We’re having dinner at McMurphy’s Grill. I know I told you.”
“Are there going to be boys?”
“Dad.” She shoved him and gave Mom a hug. “I’ll see you guys in a few hours.”
Someone seeming obviously out of place caught her attention behind her parents. The lady officer who had been at their house in the morning.
Hadley stepped toward her friends. “Let’s go. Now.”
The officer raised her hand and hurried over.
“See you later.” Hadley blew kisses at her family and turned around.
“Hadley!” said the cop.
She swore under her breath.
Ellie tilted her head.
“I’ll catch up with you,” Hadley said.
“What’s that about?”
Hadley mouthed later before turning around to the officer with a forced smile. “Yes? What are you doing here?” she asked before the woman could respond.
She kept her attention on Hadley. “I’m Detective Carla Stewart, Hadley. My partner and I asked your family some questions earlier, but you weren’t there. Do you have a moment?”
Dad stepped between them, his back to Hadley. “Leave her alone. She’s on her way to celebrate with her friends for a job well done.”
The detective looked around Dad. “It’s only a couple of quick questions about your neighbor.”
A lump formed in Hadley’s throat, blocking any words. Not that she had any.
Dad moved in front of Detective Stewart again. “Now isn’t the time.”
Hadley pulled herself together. “It’s fine, Dad.” She maneuvered around him. “I don’t know anything. I was performing last night. It’s been a busy weekend. Ask anyone here.”
“How well did you know Duke Hill?”
She couldn’t help a guilty glance at Dad before answering. “No more than any other neighbor.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m so busy with school and my other activities, I don’t have time to get to know anyone. He seemed like a nice guy. Can I go now?”
She offered her card. “Let me know if you think of anything. You can text that number.”
Hadley’s pulse quickened.
“Okay. But I don’t know anything.” She took the card and headed backstage to gather her things.
Behind her, Dad said something about an attorney.
Hadley blinked back tears. She could hold it together just a little longer. Laughing with friends would be the perfect distraction until she could get home.
She found her things and stuck the card in her purse, though it belonged in the trash. Then she looked around before pulling out her cell phone to read over last night’s texts from her boyfriend.
Maverick: Miss you. Wish I could be in the audience tonight.
Hadley: Miss you more! You already saw two performances. That’s more than anyone else.
Maverick: Still not enough. Break a leg!
Hadley: Thanks. Love you, my Maverick.
Maverick: Love you more, Angel Eyes. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
Then Duke had sent a picture of himself making a kissing face.
It simultaneously warmed and shattered her heart.
They hadn’t seen each other when she got home from her play. She’d called and texted repeatedly but never got any answer.
Because he had been dead.
And the cops probably knew everything. They had to have his cell phone.
They probably thought she was guilty. That had to be why the detective wanted to talk to her.
; She might need that lawyer Dad was talking about.
Chapter Nine
Brad filled a mug with coffee but didn’t bother with creamer. It was a black coffee morning. And he was still waiting to hear from his boss. It wasn’t unusual for Kurt to be harder to reach on the weekends, but the man was practically avoiding him.
It wasn’t Brad’s fault that the guy next door had been murdered at almost exactly the same time he’d been taking care of his target. Brad’s kill was legit, though. Duke had been annoying and stuck-up as hell, but it wasn’t like the guy deserved what happened to him. And, of course, he was offed with a Valderdorf.
The evidence all pointed to him. Apparently, his neighbors all thought that, in Brad’s eyes, the stupid fireworks displays were worth killing a man over. No, he went after pedophiles, serial killers, drug dealers, and the like. People who needed to be taken down for the sake of a safe society.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
He shoved aside his concerns and offered Faye a smile. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Stop.” She waved him off and filled her own mug.
“I mean it.”
“No, you don’t.” She sat down and sipped her drink.
“You’re as gorgeous as the day I first saw you.”
“When I was fourteen, in my cheerleading uniform?”
“You’re like a fine wine, improving with time.”
She sighed. “Are the investigators still next door?”
“The police tape is still up, but I didn’t see any vehicles outside.”
“I can’t believe he’s dead.”
“It’s shocking, to say the least.”
Faye rubbed her eyes. “Do you think we need to worry about our safety? Was the murderer after him specifically, or could he hit us next?”
“There has never been any serious crime in the neighborhood. I’m sure it isn’t anything to worry about. What we do need to be concerned about is the cops’ interest in our family.”
“What if they find out he was here?” she asked, setting her mug down.
“I don’t see how. Not after we removed the footage from the cloud. They can’t prove anything.”
“What if someone else’s camera caught it?”
“I did some reading last night, and most of these don’t store the images for long before they’re replaced with new footage.”
“But it seems like someone could’ve gotten something. Can’t they save it?”
“Sure. If they captured anything.” He rested his hand on hers. “I looked around yesterday, and given the way the homes are spaced, I really don’t think any of the doorbell cams are pointed anywhere near our front yard.”
“What if someone has other cameras? Like the Johnstons. That woman is paranoid about everything.”
“Let’s not worry about it. We have enough to think about as it is.”
Brad pulled out his phone and checked the news. Duke’s murder was all anyone locally was talking about — that was no surprise — but there weren’t many details. Nothing about the knife or anyone the police were questioning.
So far, so good. He just needed to talk with his boss, who had promised to help, but so far had done nothing.
He should’ve heard something by now.
Brad rose. “I’m going to call Kurt again.”
Faye shifted in her seat. “I need to ask you something. It’ll be quick.”
Her tone made his stomach knot. “What did I do now?”
“Nothing.” She patted his chair.
“What is it, then?” He sat.
“It has nothing to do with the police or our kids.”
“Okay. And for the record, I don’t like those two groups in the same sentence.”
She halfway smiled. “I think we should host the neighborhood Super Bowl party.”
He blinked a few times. “Come again?”
“The party.”
“Tonight? Here?”
Faye nodded. “I’ll recruit the kids to help clean. It’ll be fine.”
Images of nosy neighbors rummaging through their things flashed through his mind. People who wanted to prove him guilty of killing Duke. Given the way some of them had eyed him outside, and at the play yesterday, they would probably be thrilled to capitalize on the situation.
“Brad?”
He snapped his attention back to her. “No.”
“No?”
“There’s no way we’re hosting the party. It’s asking for trouble.”
She twisted hair around her finger. “Or it would show the neighbors how hospitable we are.”
“Meaning?”
“Everyone has been looking forward to Duke’s party.”
“Not me.”
“Of course not.” Faye drew in a deep breath. “But it would be an act of goodwill to host the party. Give the neighborhood a place where everyone can come together and mourn.”
He shook his head.
“It would help put us in a good light. You have to admit we could use a little of that. A lot, actually.”
More images raced through his mind. This time, of people breaking into his office and finding everything he had at the house for his job — not only the knives but the tools of his profession. “I get where you’re coming from, but it really isn’t a good idea.”
“Why don’t you want people in our house?”
Anger churned in his gut. “We have parties.”
“You mean the summertime barbecues?”
“Right. It’s perfect. Those keep people outside.”
Her brows drew together. “Why don’t you want people in here? Not for a simple party and not for me to have my dream of an in-home salon?”
“Not that again.”
“Why don’t you want people in here? It’s not like we have anything to hide!”
Brad gritted his teeth. He hated keeping the truth from her at all, and he would never lie about anything outside of his job, but he had to keep his cover.
No exceptions.
“What aren’t you telling me?” She pressed her palms on the table.
He closed his eyes a moment before meeting her gaze. “You know me. I value privacy. And having everyone over tonight will only invite people to snoop.”
“And what exactly would they find? We aren’t guilty, Brad. And they all think you hated him. What better way to show them how wrong they are?”
“Because I don’t want our entire neighborhood traipsing through our house!”
“They wouldn’t be. Everyone would be in the living room watching the game.”
“Everyone?” he countered.
She took several small breaths. “I’m sure a bunch of the wives will be in the dining room, enjoying the snacks. And we could set up games for the kids in the front sitting room. It’ll be fine.”
“You can guarantee nobody will go upstairs?”
Her mouth curved down. “No, I can’t guarantee it. But it isn’t like we have anything to hide.”
If only. “We have plenty to steal.”
“Now you’re worried that we’re surrounded by a pack of thieves?”
“That’s what we’re opening ourselves up to if we invite a bunch of strangers. Some of whom apparently see us as capable of murder.”
“You,” she mumbled.
“I’m done discussing this. No parties.” Brad hurried out of the room.
He marched up the stairs and stopped at his office. Typed the code into the lockbox he’d installed long ago and collapsed onto his leather chair, his heart racing.
How could Faye think hosting a party would be a good idea? That would be crazy, even without knowing his secrets. Nearly every finger was pointed at him, and she was crazy to think that no one would snoop.
An outside noise nabbed his attention. Probably someone dragging garbage to the curb. Despite the HOA rules, there was always one wise guy who put them out way too early.
But the sounds continued for several minutes, so he pulled himself from the chair and
glanced out the blinds.
About half a dozen people gathered in front of Duke’s house. Not nearly the crowd from yesterday, but enough to spark his curiosity.
One lady — Brad couldn’t remember her name, but she was always spouting off her opinions at the meetings — turned and pointed to his house. Almost at his window.
Brad lowered the blind slightly, but kept watching. The group seemed deep in conversation, shifting their attention back and forth between his house and Duke’s.
Each time they turned his way, literally pointing fingers, they looked annoyed.
No, not annoyed. Suspicious.
They had to be cooking up theories, figuring out how he would have offed their neighbor.
He needed to know what they were saying. But there was no way to hear from inside the house, and he sure wasn’t going out there to talk with them.
Not only that, but if he didn’t hear back from Kurt soon, he might have to launch his own investigation to find out who really killed Duke.
He pulled out his phone, used voice command to make the call, and got his boss’ voicemail. So he called again. But still no answer.
There was only one thing to do. He would have to tell Faye that he would go along with the party, but only on the condition that they lock up their valuables. And while his family was busy doing that, he would make sure his office lock’s code was updated.
Brad went out into the hall and tried to change the code. It had been too long, and he couldn’t remember the procedure, so he needed to find the paperwork. After nearly twenty wasted minutes, he finally had a new code.
He passed Hadley on his way to Faye. “Mom wants to have the Super Bowl party here. We need to start picking up.”
Her mouth gaped. “We’re hosting? Tonight?”
“I suggest locking up your valuables. I don’t trust any of these people.” Brad checked his phone as he darted down the stairs.
But still nothing from Kurt.
He would have to go to work and deal with Kurt face to face.
Then he’d worry about his nosy neighbors going through his house, looking for evidence to prove that he was a murderer.
Chapter Ten
Brad glanced around the sparse parking lot. Kurt’s car wasn’t there, but he fretted every scratch when driving his convertible and might have parked around back.
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