Page 45 of Bad Intentions

“But why?”

“Because most people like to run their mouth without taking the time to actually ask the right questions. And because the police in small towns don’t always have the resources to investigate complex cases properly.”

“You don’t think my grandmother was rightfully convicted?” I drop the folder onto the table and stare him down. He might be one of those who thinks my grandmother got away with murder.

“Hey, hey, hey, hide your claws,” Trevor says, then sits up and leans in, wiggling his forefinger at the paperwork. “Quite the opposite, actually. I think all the charges were uncalled for. I think it was all a setup. The Hartzel murder, the arson, everything. Well, maybe not the Hartzel case, because Karen Boots might’ve been covering for someone. But! Someone else was responsible, and the truth is, our guy was mentioned multiple times throughout the trial, but he never testified. In fact, he was never even questioned by the police. He skipped town, and there wasn’t enough evidence to link him to any of what happened. Or the police did a lousy job with it.”

“So you think he was responsible for all of this?” I nod at the file.

“Possibly. You have to look at the clues.”

“And those are?”

Rika leans over and pulls a paper from the stack and hands it to me. It’s a newspaper article about a drowned woman.

I frown. “What does this woman have to do with anything?”

“Read on,” Trevor says. “See the date? That’s a week before the bar fire.”

“And?”

“Are you blind, Bootsie?” Rika chirps.

I glare at her. “Don’t call me that, please. I don’t like it,” I say quietly.

“My bad.” She raises her palms in the air in apology. “Read the article, girl. Then look at the court record where your grandma talks about Derek Sickler.” She passes me another paper. “See any familiar names?”

I cross-check the several pages in my hands and see in the statement that the drowned woman’s father mentions James Sickler.

“Oh, man,” I whisper. “Wait, the drowned woman was this guy’s wife?” I raise my eyes at Trevor. “He had a wife?”

Trevor nods. “A domestic partner, yes. And she drowned the day she came to Burnville looking for him.”

26

KAREN

Josie can be mad at me all she wants, but I told her the truth—everyone who came in contact with Derek Sickler ended up in a bad way.

The first was the woman from the bar. I will never forget the morning I found out what happened.

The ice in my iced coffee was melting, and so was my good mood. The kitchen radio faded into the background as I gaped at the front page of the newspaper in my hands.

BODY FOUND IN SUSQUEHANNA RIVER

The body of Sarah Holes, an Ohio native, was found in the Susquehanna River earlier this morning.

The police are investigating the drowning, which is the third this month.

They are asking for any witnesses who’ve been in contact with the deceased to come forward.

Drownings were nothing new in this part of Pennsylvania, especially during a rainy year when the river was deep and unforgiving to reckless paddlers and swimmers.

It was the photograph of the smiling woman staring at me from the page that made my insides twist with dread.

The loud rasp at the door jerked me out of my stupor. Through the kitchen window, I saw Donna’s car—I hadn’t even heard it pull up.

Donna didn’t wait for me to open the door. She was already stomping into my kitchen, flannel shirt over a tank, her bob a mess, holding a newspaper in the air. “Did you see this?”