Page 99 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“Our relationship.” I clenched my jaw. A relationship that I’d thought was serious enough that she’d come to me before believing Frank’s bullshit.

Winn held up her hands. “I need to go.”

“Fine.”

I refused to look at her as she returned to the SUV, reversed away and disappeared down the road. When the sound of her engine was drowned by distance, I kicked a rock. “Fuck.”

This was going to be a mess. A real fucking mess. What if Briggs said the wrong thing? Why would he have Harmony Hardt’s purse? And Lily Green’s wallet?

I wouldn’t get the chance to ask him first. Winn was probably already on her way to the cabin. And the minute she brought him into the station, the entire town would know. One of the officers at the station would talk, and before my family and I had answers, Briggs would have earned yet another black mark on his reputation that would last the rest of his days. Just like the one his ex had delivered.

Decades later, there were those who still believed he’d beat her. And people like Frank, those who didn’t like that our family was so ingrained in Quincy, only made it worse.

The rumor mill was about to spin out of control.

“Fuck!” I shouted, then spun and jogged for the house. I swiped my keys off the counter and hustled to my truck.

Its wheels left a trail of dust as I sped along the gravel road to Mom and Dad’s.

We could have talked at the cabin. Winn could have questioned him there with one of us present. Why was she insisting on dragging him into town?

Briggs had most likely found the purse and wallet on one of his hikes. Much like Lily’s boots. The day I’d taken those to her office, she’d told me she was going to talk to Briggs. As she should. But was it really necessary to bring him into the station?

I stomped the gas pedal.

If Briggs was having an episode, if he wasn’t as sharp as he normally was, what would he say to her? It felt like she was handing the man a shovel and telling him to dig his own grave. All because she had questions to ask.

Her damn questions. Winn had been so against calling Lily’s death a suicide. But we all knew it was suicide. The whole town. So why wouldn’t she just let it go?

This was nothing more than a case of lost and found. A purse and a wallet. Hell, that purse had probably been out on a trail for years collecting dust and rain.

If I begged, would she take Briggs to the main house? Could we have this conversation at Mom and Dad’s kitchen table, where he’d feel more comfortable?

I shifted and dug my phone from my back pocket, bringing up her name. The call went straight to voicemail.

“Shit.” I drove faster.

The pit in my stomach doubled in size.

Maybe the reason I was so pissed wasn’t because Winn was going to talk to Briggs. It was because I was fucking terrified that maybe there was a reason why.

She wouldn’t haul him to the station if there wasn’t something wrong. Right?

What had been in that purse? Why hadn’t Briggs turned it in after Harmony Hardt’s death? Why had he kept Lily Green’s wallet? He knew where those girls had died.

Fuck. If he’d had something to do with those deaths . . .

No. Those poor girls had killed themselves. The former chief had investigated. Harmony Hardt had been depressed. She’d been struggling with mood swings according to her closest friends.

Her death had nothing to do with my uncle. My kind, gentle uncle who was losing his clear mind.

Mom was in the yard on her knees, pulling weeds from a flower bed, as I skidded to a stop beside Dad’s Silverado. She must have realized something was wrong because she stood, tearing off her garden gloves and tossing them on the lawn as she met me by the porch. “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s watching the news. You’re scaring me, Griffin. Is it your brothers or sisters?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s Briggs.”