“Jillian, Ollie is twenty-two.” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “Sandy is only twenty, and yeah, Mom isn’t thrilled.”
I shake my head. “I guess we all have our skeletons.” I take a drink of my iced tea. “Does Julie?”
When Liv’s gaze meets mine, I can see the sadness in her blue eyes. All four of us have blue eyes, which is to be expected with two blue-eyed parents. Yet the colors aren’t all the same. Liv’s are lighter, like our dad’s, while mine are darker like Mom’s. We also share the red hair. It makes it easy to spot a Thorne.
“You know, another time, I might expound on a few of her issues,” Liv says. “Now it doesn’t feel right.”
I nod. “I get it. I’m not trying to gossip. I’m trying to put pieces together. Someone hurt her. Was she the target? If so, why? Or was she simply” —I think of my conversation with Echo— “a victim of opportunity.”
Liv leans back against her chair. “Either one leaves too many questions.”
“Such as?”
“Well, let’s be clear. I wish she wasn’t a victim. Period.”
“Given.”
“If Julie was targeted, that means this was done with malice, for what...revenge?”
“And,” I say, “if she is simply a victim of opportunity, there’s some pervert out there, and he could do this again.”
“Yeah,” Liv replies downheartedly. “Neither is a good scenario.”
Quiet settles over us as we both eat and silently wrestle with our thoughts and fears. Having an opportunistic criminal on the loose is a frightening possibility. Finally, I look up. Trying to lighten the mood, I say, “I met Keith Gilbert.”
“Oh, that’s Coach’s brother,” Liv says as her eyebrows dance. “Nice looking. I met him at the dinner after the funeral.”
I push the salad around on my plate as I recall Keith, his dark blond hair, those brown eyes that change from dark to soft, and his nice build.You were feeling me out. Those words return warmth to my cheeks. “He isn’t ugly. Did you know he’s a cop? A detective in Marquette.”
“No. I barely spoke to him. He was a bit bombarded by the students and recent grads, girls mostly, wanting to express their condolences.”
“He mentioned he’s heard many.”
Liv takes a bite of her salad followed by a drink of her iced tea. “You know, now that I think about it, I recall thinking it was weird that he wasn’t staying with Mrs. Coach or either set of Joey’s grandparents. I think they all sat together at the funeral, but as soon as it was over, he was up and away.”
“Hmm, not that you were watching him.”
Liv smiles. “Okay, he was a handsome distraction. Just because a woman is committed doesn’t mean she’s blind.”
“Not calling you out, sis.”
“Well, it wasn’t a huge deal. I just noticed. I think Mom talked to him for a while.”
“She did,” I confirm. “She told me that he was staying out at the old Iverson place.”
“Right. That’s where you are.” She grins. “Don’t you think we should call it the Harrison place now?”
“Sure. It’s the Harrison place, off Ninth Avenue.”
Liv shakes her head, her smile growing. “No, stop. That’s just too much change for Blue Gil.”
A moment of merriment comes and goes, blown away by the winds of uncertainty. There’s a strange sensation to having a moment of happiness when the world would question your sanity. Both of our smiles fade as fast as they came.
“Shit,” I say.
Liv puts down her fork and lays both hands upon the table. “God, Jillian, someone raped Julie with a gardening tool.” Her eyes glaze with unshed tears. “I can’t stop thinking about how crazy sick it is.”
“It is. What’s Sheriff Manes doing? I mean, of course they need to look for Marty, but what aboutlooking for the psycho guy who did this? Is someone trying to put a profile together? Has anyone questioned Mom or Dad?”
