She turned around, grinning. “It’s a hint in case I forget who I am.”
Vincent laughed. “That’s our Liv.”
Caleb had to agree. He’d had a few classes with her and she’d always been a little on the ditsy side. As long as he’d known her, she’d struck him as someone who liked attention—flamboyant, loud and boisterous. Ten years later she still dressed to be noticed, from the ridiculously high black stilettos to the rhinestone-studded dress jeans to the spiky auburn hair with its purple highlights. The auburn wasn’t any more natural than the purple. Actually, he wasn’t sure what her natural color was. Even in high school, she’d dyed it, sometimes blond, sometimes red, sometimes jet-black.
She shrugged, still grinning. “You never know when it might come in handy.”
Raymond gave her a playful slap. “Especially if you party the way you used to.”
Olivia raised her hand in a fist pump. “If there’s a girl who knows how to party, it’s me.”
Caleb watched her lead the way to the door, a spring in her step, at least as much as the five-inch heels would allow.
The day is sunny and skies are blue.
Liv’s line of the poem. The outlook of someone who was perpetually cheerful.
With Liv, it was probably an act. Her eyes held an underlying sadness the false cheeriness didn’t quite mask. What was at its root? A burden that grew heavier with every passing year? A secret slowly eating a hole in her heart?
Raymond knew. Something, anyway. He’d gotten agitated enough to almost let it slip. Then Vincent had stopped him.
Caleb stepped out the door into the steamy afternoon. He needed to speak with Raymond alone. But first he’d pore over all the investigative reports from Landon’s murder. The next time he met with any of them, he’d be armed with every fact he could get his hands on. He’d force some answers.
Whatever happened ten years ago, there was probably plenty the six of them had never told the police.
Secrets two of them had taken to their graves.
THREE (#u8da21117-890a-56f2-acf1-1ba5c400361a)
Amber turned onto Airport Road and stepped hard on the gas, lights flashing and siren blaring. Usually her shift consisted of helping tourists with directions or taking the report of an occasional stolen cell phone. This one had the potential to be much more exciting.
Two minutes ago a call had come in. A woman in distress. Someone had heard screams coming from the woods near the airport.
Amber’s cruiser screeched to a halt in front of the area described by the caller, a patch of woods just past where the road straightened to parallel the runway. She stepped from the car and drew her weapon. From deep within the pines and palmettos, a rustle sounded and her senses shot to full alert.
“Hello?”
Another rustle. A shiver went up her spine.
“Cedar Key Police. Do you need assistance?”
A soft breeze blew, whispering through the trees. But over the murmur of the wind was movement, much more substantial.
She tightened her grip on her weapon and called again. “Hello?”
This time there was a response, a raspy whisper. “Help me.”
Her heart thudded. The victim. She was alive but likely hurt. Amber stepped into the woods, unclipping her radio from her belt. “I need backup. And possibly medical assistance.” Once Cedar Key Fire Rescue responded, they’d determine whether an ambulance needed to come from the mainland.
She crept deeper into the woods, watching and listening for movement. The woman needed help, but whoever had attacked her might be lurking nearby. Charging in recklessly could get her killed. “Keep talking so I can find you.”
Silence met her words. Maybe the victim had lost consciousness.
Or maybe there was no victim. Maybe the call was a hoax. She stopped walking and turned in a slow circle, pistol raised. A bead of perspiration traced a downward path between her shoulder blades. The sense of being watched was too strong to ignore. But except for the soft, steady rustle of the breeze through the trees, the woods were quiet.
Sirens sounded in the distance. They drew closer then stopped, dying in quick succession. Backup had arrived, along with fire rescue.
“Amber?”
It was her brother Hunter’s voice. Her breath escaped in a rush. “In here.”
Moments later Hunter joined her, along with fireman and EMT Wade Tanner.
Hunter looked around them. “What have we got?”
“Right now? Absolutely nothing.”
At their raised brows, she continued. “When I arrived, someone was in the woods. I heard rustling and a woman’s faint cry. ‘Help me.’”
At least she’d assumed it was a woman. Now she wasn’t sure. The hoarse whisper could have belonged to anyone.
They spread out to comb the woods. When Hunter approached her a few minutes later, he was holding a fillet knife wrapped in a handkerchief likely pulled from his pocket. A shudder rippled through her. That eight-inch blade could have done some serious damage. Had someone planned to use it on her but was scared off when the others arrived?
Hunter indicated what he held. “I found this on the ground. Since the water’s pretty close, it’s possible a fisherman dropped it. We’ll see if we can lift prints, anyway.”
Over the next half hour, the three of them knocked on doors and searched the long, narrow stretch of land housing the Cedar Key Airport. They came up with nothing, other than the knife. Wade opened the driver’s door of the Ford rescue vehicle. At least he hadn’t brought the ladder truck to this wild-goose chase.
She flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry I brought you out here for nothing. When I heard someone call for help, I was afraid we might need you.”
“No problem. It added some excitement to my afternoon. You think it was kids playing around?”
“Maybe.” That scenario was better than the one she’d come up with.
He shut the door and Hunter stepped up beside her. “Do you really believe that?”
Wade cranked the engine and pulled onto the road, leaving her alone with Hunter.
“Honestly? No.” She walked toward her car. This wasn’t going to turn out well. Hunter had that big-brother’s-gonna-protect-his-little-sister look in his eye. As soon as he’d learned there’d been a suspicious death at her reunion, he’d contacted Levy County to get details. Then he’d bombarded her with questions.
His footsteps pounded behind her. “You shouldn’t respond to calls like this alone.”
She spun and planted her hands on her hips. “How long do you think Chief Sandlin’s going to keep me if I can’t do my job?” After a year as a part-time officer, supplementing her pay with waitressing, she’d recently made full-time. She wasn’t about to jeopardize it.
Hunter stared her down, jaw tight. “How well do you think you’ll do your job if you’re dead?”
She jerked open the cruiser door. Hunter needed to mind his own business. She’d lived under his shadow her whole life.
Through her teen years he’d tried to keep her out of trouble. It hadn’t worked. She’d resented what she’d perceived as his holier-than-thou attitude and bossy ways. Unable to measure up, she hadn’t even tried. It had been easier to follow in Harold’s downhill footsteps than to climb the path Hunter trod.