Reunited By Danger. Carol J. Post

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СКАЧАТЬ of life’s pleasures surround you.

      Once you were bound, but now you’re free.

      The kids all adore you, their referee.

      A sworn public servant, you’ve answered the call.

      But one by one, justice will find you all.

      When she met Caleb’s eyes, he was studying her. “Any idea why somebody wants you guys dead?”

      She swirled the tea bag in the mug and watched the liquid darken. She had an idea. It just didn’t make any sense.

      Caleb’s gaze bore into her.

      Finally she released a long breath. “Logan Cleary has always blamed us for his brother’s death.”

      “Why?”

      “I don’t know. We didn’t have anything to do with it.” Her hands tightened around her mug. “I invited him to join us. Then I got sick and Liv took me home.” The words came out more defensive than she’d intended and she softened her tone. “Landon never showed. But Logan has always blamed me. I don’t know whether he thinks we hurt Landon, but he holds me accountable for inviting him in the first place.”

      She held herself accountable, too. Had for the past ten years. She just tried not to think about it. That was one reason she’d severed ties with all her old friends.

      She sighed. “But why act now? I mean, it’s been ten years.”

      “Logan has spent most of that time in the Army, so he’s been gone. He got out a few months ago.”

      Yeah, that was what she’d heard. She’d run into him during one of his leaves. His animosity toward her was as strong as it had been right after Landon’s murder. And judging from the glares he’d given her at the reunion, it hadn’t faded.

      Caleb poured syrup over his pancakes, the eggs and hash browns now gone. “What can you tell me about Landon’s last day alive?”

      “Same thing I told the police ten years ago. It was Sunday, two days after graduation. He’d asked me out at the commencement ceremony, and we’d made plans for dinner and a movie Monday night. Sunday he texted me and asked what I was doing. I told him I was going out later and partying with friends.”

      “How late?”

      “Late. After Mom and Dad went to bed.” She didn’t have to tell him she’d been sneaking out. He knew. She could see the condemnation in his eyes. Or maybe her guilt was putting the condemnation there. That was something else she avoided thinking about, how her bad choices had affected her parents, especially her father.

      “So you slipped out of the house after they went to bed.”

      The words sounded even worse coming out of Caleb’s mouth. He’d probably never caused his parents a moment’s grief.

      “What happened then?”

      “I climbed out my bedroom window and Liv picked me up down the street. We went to the woods where Mona and the guys were. Raymond had raided his dad’s liquor cabinet, like always. I don’t remember what we were drinking, but we all got pretty wasted.”

      “Then you got sick.”

      She nodded. That had been a regular occurrence, too, drinking till she’d made herself sick. But she hadn’t touched the stuff since that night. First Landon’s death, then her father’s heart attack—two life-changing events in the span of a week had scared her straight.

      “After Liv dropped me off, she went home. The guys and Ramona said they left shortly after we did. No one saw Landon.”

      “You didn’t let him know you were no longer at the party?”

      A wave of guilt crashed down on her. “I didn’t think about it.” Or maybe she had, somewhere between bouts of throwing up. But the thought hadn’t stayed in her pickled brain long enough to act on it.

      “Anything else you can tell me?”

      She shook her head, trying to tamp down another pang of guilt. There was something else, but it wasn’t connected to Landon’s murder. Not technically. If she brought it up now, the police would think they had something to hide. And they didn’t.

      Caleb washed his last bite of pancake down with coffee. “Alex’s death is suspicious, but with Ramona, there’s no doubt. She was murdered. The last line of the poem proves it wasn’t random. This is someone’s warped idea of justice.”

      She nodded and Caleb continued. “Frank Mason’s the lead detective on the case. He’s bringing the others up to speed, cautioning them about the danger. I told him I’d talk to you. But I’d like to meet with all of you and see if you can come up with some possible suspects. Logan is the most obvious. But it could be someone who’d been close to Landon.”

      “I’ll get hold of them.” They’d all exchanged numbers before leaving the reunion.

      The waitress brought the checks and he claimed both of them. After he’d finished paying, he walked her to her vehicle. “I guess you’re off to Walmart.”

      “And you’re headed to bed.”

      “Not yet. Church first. I teach a preteen Sunday school class.”

      After bidding him farewell, she climbed into the driver’s seat. He was going to church. To teach Sunday school. He hadn’t become a preacher.

      But he was still way out of her league.

      * * *

      Amber wheeled her cart into the midmorning sunshine, a large, flat box protruding from the top at an angle. She’d gone with a forty-inch. Anything bigger wouldn’t have fit on the shelf in her entertainment center.

      As she moved down the center lane, she glanced around, an uneasy caution tightening her shoulders. The same uneasiness had plagued her since her meeting with Caleb. Mona was dead, brutally murdered. Alex’s death probably wasn’t an accident, either. Based on the poem, the rest of them were all marked. The question was, “Who’s next?”

      She dragged in a shaky breath and pressed her key fob. Several spaces away, the lights on her RAV4 flashed and the security system beeped. Soon she’d be loaded up and locked safely inside. From now on, she wouldn’t go anywhere without her weapon, whether on duty or not.

      After sliding the box into the back of her vehicle, she straightened to shut the door. Her heart stuttered. Logan Cleary stood at the driver’s-side front quarter panel, arms crossed.

      “Hello, Amber.” He pushed her name off his tongue as if it were something distasteful, then moved toward her, blocking her path to the door.

      Her pulse raced and moisture coated her palms. She squared her shoulders. Whether she was armed or not, he’d have to be stupid to try accosting her at Walmart in broad daylight.

      “What do you want, Logan?”

      “I want a lot of things. A filet mignon dinner. Tickets to the Super Bowl.” He rested a shoulder against her vehicle. СКАЧАТЬ