by Dan Padavona
“You mean Benny Pritchard?”
Paige scoffed.
“Total loser. We should have recognized the signs that something was wrong when she dated that guy.”
An argument poised behind Justine’s lips. She swallowed it for now.
“I tell myself every day that Skye is still alive, that there’s a logical explanation for what happened. I can’t face the alternative.”
Paige removed a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes. Somehow, the woman’s eyeliner didn’t run. A giggle escaped Paige’s chest.
“I still wear it, you know?”
“Wear what?” Justine asked, though she knew Paige referred to the bracelet.
The blonde woman peeled her sleeve back and revealed the beaded friendship bracelet around her wrist. Justine’s heart dropped. She hadn’t worn hers since high school. Yet she kept the bracelet on her nightstand. How many times had she determined to toss the friendship bracelet in the trash and sever the last tie holding her to Wolf Lake? Each time she tried, she pictured Skye. Tossing the bracelet away was akin to giving up on Skye, admitting her best friend was dead. Justine sobbed into her hand.
“I still have mine too,” Justine admitted.
Paige reached across the table and set a hand on Justine’s.
“The police didn’t mention a bracelet. That’s a good sign, right?”
“It’s possible Skye didn’t wear hers the night she disappeared.”
“Of course, she did. Skye never took the bracelet off. She was a loyal friend.” Loyalty. Even today, Paige pitted Skye against Justine, comparing the two friends as if this was a contest. Justine grabbed her bag. “Where are you going?”
“I told you I’m meeting my cousin.”
Paige huffed.
“At least call me before you blow out of town. Sometimes, I get the impression we were never friends.”
Justine pulled her sunglasses over her eyes.
“If we weren’t friends, I wouldn’t be here. Call me if anything changes.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wednesday, August 11th
9:45 a.m.
Raven knelt before the cabinet and filed two investigation folders. Three cases lay stacked upon her desk, and she hadn’t completed the paperwork on the stolen money at the state park campgrounds. She blew the hair from her eyes. Chelsey was somewhere down the hall, most likely in the kitchen, pouring herself another coffee. Her boss arrived ten minutes late this morning, complaining of a splitting headache as she blew through the entryway. Glass clinked from the kitchen.
“Can you bring me a cup?” Raven called.
“A cup of what?”
Raven rolled her eyes.
“Coffee?”
“Uh, sure.”
Raven preferred tea. But the paperwork grew by the second, and Chelsey refused to lend a hand. Raven needed energy. She slammed the drawer shut, hoping her anger carried to the kitchen and reached Chelsey’s ears. Five minutes later, she was knee-deep in case files, and Chelsey hadn’t returned with the coffees. Screw it. Raven marched down the hallway to get the coffee herself when someone knocked. She turned to find LeVar propping the door open with his leg while he pushed Scout Mourning through the entryway.
“Let me get that,” Raven said, holding the door.
The firm’s handicap accessible ramp was narrow and outdated. Levar must have struggled to maneuver the wheelchair to the door.
“’Sup, Sis?” LeVar planted a kiss on Raven’s cheek.
Raven hugged her brother and set a hand on Scout’s shoulder.
“What are you two troublemakers doing here?”
“LeVar has the day off,” said Scout.
“So you visited me at work? There must be a thousand more interesting things to do on an August morning.”
“We want to discuss our ideas on the state park case.”
Raven cast a worried glance over her shoulder. She hadn’t told Chelsey. Given her boss’s mood, now wasn’t the time to suggest they combine forces with Scout and LeVar. Raven placed a finger against her lips.
“Not so loud. Chelsey has a headache this morning.”
LeVar gave Raven a knowing look.
“Again?”
“Yeah, I hear you. She needs a good talking-to. Come on in.” Giving LeVar a break, Raven wheeled Scout into the office and set the girl beside her desk. Raven gestured at the paperwork. “As you can see, every day at Wolf Lake Consulting overflows with excitement and mystery.”
Scout giggled. The spitting image of Naomi, Scout wore her brunette hair in a ponytail. She adjusted her glasses as she peered around the room.
“So this is where you catch the bad guys.”
“And the bad girls. We get a few of them too.”
“Pretty soon, we’ll have another investigator in Wolf Lake,” Scout said, glancing up at LeVar. Raven swore her brother blushed. “LeVar declared his major this morning.”
Raven raised her brow.
“Criminal justice?”
“Yeah,” LeVar said, shuffling his feet. “Do ya need to stare at me like that, all googly-eyed and—”
Raven held up a hand.
“No name calling around Scout.”
“What? This girl’s got a mouth like a sailor. She makes the Harmon Kings seem like choir boys.”
“So I came up with a great idea,” Scout said.
Raven sank into her chair.
“What’s that?”
“Since LeVar is studying criminal justice, and you’re shorthanded, why not hire LeVar as your third investigator?”
The surprise on LeVar’s face told Raven this was news to him. Raven listened for Chelsey. Her boss was still in the kitchen, doing God knows what. Probably avoiding company. Chelsey had become the ultimate introvert since things fell apart between her and Thomas Shepherd. Raven still hadn’t heard the details. What went wrong? One day, Chelsey determined to try again with Thomas. The next, she refused to speak the man’s name.
“I’m not sure what to say,” Raven said, glancing between LeVar and Scout. She held her brother’s eyes. “A private investigator job. Is this what you want?”
LeVar scratched behind his ear.
“I guess so. I hadn’t given it much thought…or any thought, to be honest.”
Raven blew out a breath.
“I’d be lying if I said we didn’t need the help. But you haven’t taken your first class yet, and Chelsey makes the hiring decisions.”
Glass shattered in the kitchen, followed by an angry curse.
“I’d better check on her,” Raven said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let’s table this discussion for now and pick it up when Chelsey is…reasonable. Sound good?”
Scout raised her eyes to LeVar, who nodded.
“Great,” Raven said. “In the meantime, if you find anything interesting on the state park skeleton, send me the information.” Raven rubbed her hands together. She had to admit, the prospect of working with LeVar and Scout excited her. Months had passed since the last time she enjoyed investigative work. “I can’t wait to get started.”
LeVar kissed her again. That was another welcome change. Since LeVar left the Kings, he’d opened up and become a family man.
“See you at the barbecue,” he said, grabbing Scout’s chair.
“Right, I almost forgot about the cookout. We’ll talk then. Just be careful what you say around the sheriff.”
“Aight, Sis. We’ll keep it on the down low.”
Raven walked them out and held the door, while LeVar squeezed the wheelchair through the opening. As she watched her brother drive off with Scout in the backseat, she felt her heart sink. A part of her wished Chelsey had called in sick again. She could have spent the day with LeVar and Scout, playing their silly mystery-solving game. Anything would have been better than catching the campground thief, or listening to Chelsey whine about her headache.
Deflated, Raven turned back to the kitchen, Chelsey was on her hands and knees, sopping up spil
led coffee with paper towels. She’d pulled the garbage can from beneath the sink and set it beside the mess. Two broken mugs lay inside the can.
“What happened?”
Chelsey gave Raven a death stare.
“What does it look like? I dropped the mugs, and now I’m cleaning up messes while you chitchat.”
Raven bit her tongue.
“LeVar drove Scout home. You could have come out and said hello.”
“If your head was inside a vise, you wouldn’t be in the mood for conversation.”
Stooping to help, Raven snagged the broken fragments and tossed them into the container. From the closet, she removed a broom and dust pan and swept the smaller pieces. As she worked, she tested the water with Chelsey.
“You know, things would be a lot easier around here if we hired a third investigator.”
Chelsey tossed the wet towels into the trash.
“That was the last of the brew,” Chelsey said, ignoring Raven’s suggestion. “I’ll start another pot.”
“You do that. I guess I’ll work on the cases.”
As Chelsey bent to lift the garbage can, her shirt dipped off her neck, revealing a silver necklace with a dolphin pendant. Raven caught her breath. Cuts covered Chelsey’s chest from just below the neck line to the tops of her breasts. The woman looked as if she’d been attacked by an animal with razors for claws. Raven pulled her eyes away when Chelsey looked up.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Raven said, clearing her throat. “Call me if you need help with the coffee.”
What the hell was happening? As Raven hurried back to the office, she couldn’t shake the image of Chelsey’s lacerated chest.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wednesday, August 11th
6:15 p.m.
“Could you pass the sweet potato pie?” Thomas asked.
Raven snickered as the table erupted in laughter. It was a running joke that had begun during the group’s first cookout. Who would be the first to ask for a second piece of pie? Eventually, someone always did. Serena’s sweet potato pie was to die for, and now Naomi Mourning had baked a mouthwatering blackberry pie that had the table raving.
“All right, Fat Albert,” Darren said, passing Thomas the dish.
Thomas saluted Darren with his fork and scooped a slice onto his plate.
“Who is Fat Albert?” Scout asked, drawing more laughter. “What? Is he a famous fat guy or something?”
They’d torn through baby back ribs and half a porterhouse steak. Surrounded by family and friends, it was the happiest Raven had felt all day. She’d even convinced herself the lacerations on Chelsey’s chest were nothing to worry about, that a logical explanation existed. Darren caught her grinning and held her hand below the table.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m just happy,” she said.
He questioned Raven with his eyes, then he put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. Across the table, Serena and Naomi discussed recipes and conspired to bake together next time. Raven didn’t recall Serena smiling before last April. Rehab had done wonders for her mother, and Serena drew her strength from the love surrounding the table. She had real friends now, an extended family who supported her.
Beside Serena, LeVar cut another slice of porterhouse while he joked with Scout. The girl’s face lit in understanding when LeVar explained Fat Albert and Bill Cosby. After dessert, the group broke into smaller groups and scattered around the backyard. Darren convened with LeVar and Scout beside the guest house, and Naomi and Serena wandered back to Naomi’s place, ostensibly to sift through kitchen supplies and plan their first collaboration. Searching for company, Raven noticed Thomas and Gray standing away from the others and holding a secretive conversation beside the deck. Raven crept along the deck, remaining out of sight as their voices increased.
“Mark my words, Thomas. Paige Sutton and Justine Adkins knew more than they let on after Skye went missing.”
“You think they abducted her? A friendship gone bad?”
Gray chewed on the idea.
“I don’t believe so. More likely, the girls got involved in something dangerous, and Skye paid the price.”
“If they suspected someone took Skye, why didn’t they come forward?”
“I wish I had answers for you, Thomas. Start your investigation with Paige and Justine. They’re the key to figuring out what happened to Skye. By the way, a little bird told me Justine Adkins is in Wolf Lake.”
“When did she return?”
“Probably the day the story broke. If you ask me, that’s proof Justine is involved.”
Thomas folded his arms.
“Perhaps she came back because Skye was her friend, and she needs closure.”
“Or she knows who the killer is and has reason to protect him.”
Raven crept away. It wasn’t right to eavesdrop on her friends. But learning the old sheriff suspected two girls named Paige and Justine put a jump in Raven’s step. She searched the yard and located Scout and LeVar. It was time to investigate Skye Feron’s disappearance.
* * *
Paige Sutton lived in a classic Tudor with a brick-faced peak along the front and a hedge-lined yard. It was more house than she could afford. But she deserved the best, even if the mortgage payments would last forever. She strode barefoot into the remodeled kitchen and poured a glass of wine, which she carried out to the private stone patio. Eight o’clock, and the sun was almost down. How quickly summer drifted away.
Setting her feet on the chair opposite hers, she sipped the wine and listened to the first cricket chirping. This was her sanctuary, Paige’s escape when the memories threatened to cripple her. She closed her eyes and reveled in the night songs. As she let the stress pour off her bones, her hand crept to the bracelet on her left wrist. Her fingers played with the beads, rolling them around as exhaustion crept up on her. She pictured Skye as she’d last seen her—a strong, athletic body and natural beauty Paige couldn’t compete with. Skye had been so happy then and couldn’t wait to attend Colby on a full scholarship. Then she was gone. Skye’s disappearance left Paige with too many questions. Had someone hurt her friend? Or did Skye harbor a secret, something that drove her from Wolf Lake?
The hedges rustled, snapping Paige’s eyes open. She set the wine down and glanced toward the sound, expecting an animal to scurry out of the underbrush. Shadows lengthened as the sun died in a bloody inferno. She stood and wandered into the yard. While she scanned the hedges, her arms prickled with goosebumps. Someone was watching her.
Paige snatched the glass and rushed inside the house. She locked the patio door and drew the curtains, feeling stupid for giving in to paranoia.
The converted attic offered the best view of the backyard. If someone was outside the house, she’d see them. She took the stairs two at a time, not stopping until she climbed into the attic. Paige slipped toward the window and stood in the shadows, still sensing eyes on her. The hedges blocked her view of the neighbor’s yard. For once, she wished the hedges weren’t there and she could see the house next door. She plunged a hand into her pocket and came up empty. The damn phone was downstairs on the kitchen table.
Paige waited five minutes. She unfroze her body and stepped away from the window. Maybe it had been an animal in the hedges. But as she descended the stairs, the night breeze touched her flesh. She paused on the lower landing and stared at the front door. It was open.
Her eyes flashed between the living room and upper landing for somewhere to flee. If someone was in the house, she needed to choose wisely.
A light shone in the kitchen. Had she left the light on?
Paige stepped to the threshold and placed her back against the wall. Listened. Silence bled out of the kitchen.
She needed her phone.
Mustering her courage, she clenched her teeth and spun around the wall. The kitchen lay empty.
Except for the friendship bracelet on the kitchen counter.
* *
*
Deputy Lambert’s cruiser pulled to the curb at the same time Thomas arrived in his truck. Still dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, Thomas wished he’d had time to change into his uniform. When dispatch mentioned Paige Sutton’s name, Thomas had snapped to attention. Earlier Sheriff Gray discussed Paige and Justine Adkins, Skye Feron’s friends from high school. It wasn’t a coincidence someone broke into Paige’s house after her missing friend’s name surfaced.
Paige Sutton waited in the entryway. The blonde wore torn jean shorts and a halter top.
“Ms. Sutton?” Thomas asked as they approached the stoop. “I’m Sheriff Shepherd, and this is Deputy Lambert.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“Are you certain someone was inside your home?”
Paige bobbed her head.
“Please follow me. I need to show you something.”
Lambert shared a glance with Thomas. As they climbed the stoop, Thomas ran his eyes over the thick hedges surrounding the property. Lots of privacy. Too many places for an intruder to hide. Lambert noticed too. He lifted his chin at Thomas.
“I’ll check the yard while you interview Sutton.”
Thomas watched Lambert disappear around the corner before he followed Paige inside. The interior was immaculate. High ceilings and hardwood floors. The living room opened to the dining room, where a table for eight stretched across the floor. The house smelled of overkill. What was a twenty-three-year-old single doing in a house like this? The Sutton family fell into the upper half of middle class. Comfortable, but not rich enough to bequeath their daughter a three-hundred-thousand dollar home.
“In the kitchen, Sheriff,” Paige said, breaking Thomas out of his stupor.
The remodeled kitchen featured an island in the center with pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. Paige stood at the kitchen counter with her hands cupping her elbows. She kept glancing at the windows, painted black by the night.
“The bracelet,” Paige croaked, pointing to the beaded bracelet on the counter.
Thomas locked his eyes on the matching bracelet around Paige’s wrist.