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“Catsup,” the mother said as her husband eyed his small screen.
“The body they pulled out of the river today was a woman,” he told his wife. “There’s talk that she might’ve been murdered.”
Jessica’s heart lurched.
“We moved here to get away from all of that, George!” the mom hissed. “Isn’t that what you said? If we leave the city, life will be safer. Slower paced?”
“Who gots murdered?” the three-year-old asked.
“Nobody. I mean nobody we know.” The mom shushed her.
Jessica moved out of earshot, wending her way through the tables, telling herself this latest murder had nothing to do with her. Nothing. It was just partial stories, bad information, gossip.
But throughout the morning shift and into lunchtime she heard more and more about the woman found in the Grizzly River, supposedly first seen by a woman who owned wolves and cast spells, a witch of sorts, if the gossip could be believed. Table after table of patrons speculated about the identity of the woman and if, as Misty had mentioned earlier, another madman was in their midst.
Around ten, a big man came into the diner and though Jessica was certain she’d never seen him before, there was something familiar about him. Within minutes, she realized he was Zedediah, “Big Zed,” Grayson, Cade and the fallen sheriff’s brother. She steeled herself, wondering if Cade would join the large man, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. He was seated in Misty’s section, so she didn’t have to deal with him.
Others did, however, including Nell, who deigned to come out of the office to offer condolences. She’d been tallying receipts from the day before, balancing them with the payments received. “So sorry for your loss.”
“Oh, Zed, a shame about Dan. Such a good man,” a seventyish woman with a red beret pinned to her shiny gray hair offered up, her friend nodding solemnly.
“We’re gonna miss Dan. Helluva man,” a farmer-type put in.
“The town will never be the same,” declared another man in a suit.
And so it went for the hour that Zed occupied his chair. He was alone, an unread newspaper spread on the table. He scooped up his paper as soon as he was finished eating, squared his hat onto his large head and, after paying his bill, strode quickly out of the building.
Misty sidled over to Jessica and confided, “That’s one of the dead sheriff’s brothers. You know, there’s a strange thing about him. He doesn’t quite seem to fit with the others. Dan was a handsome man, as was his brother Bart, the one who offed himself in the barn. You heard about that?”
Jessica no
dded, though she didn’t admit she’d heard about the suicide from Cade, years before. Luckily, Misty didn’t ask.
“Well, that Bart, he was a looker, too. And Cade . . .” Misty made a big show of fanning herself. “Hot, let me tell you. That cowboy can park his boots under my bed any day of the week. Any day. But Zed,” she said, watching through the window as the big man made his way to a huge king cab. “He’s different. Not just in size being that he’s a head taller and got seventy pounds or so on his brothers, but he keeps more to himself. Not as friendly. Almost . . . oh, I don’t know, darker somehow. Someone you wouldn’t want to meet at night in a deserted alley, you know what I mean?”
Jessica watched Zed put his truck into gear and drive off.
“Oh, maybe I’m all wet. I mean, Zed’s done nothing to make me think there’s anything wrong with him. It’s just that he’s so damn different from his brothers.” Misty shrugged. “But it takes all kinds, now, doesn’t it? Say, would you cover for me for a minute? I need to take five.” She was already reaching for the pack of cigarettes in her apron pocket and heading for the back door before Jessica could agree.
Near noon, Jessica learned that Sheriff Blackwater had held a press conference. According to the customers who had smartphones and Nell, who caught it on the office TV, he’d stood on the steps of the department and made a public statement. She’d been too busy to watch the report, but from what she could gather from the customers who’d caught the news, the acting sheriff’s speech had been short and concise without any room for questions. The sheriff’s department wasn’t giving out much information other than that the woman’s death was being investigated as a homicide. Her name wasn’t being released, pending notification of next of kin.
Jessica went cold inside.
Another woman fished out of a body of water.
Talk of mutilation.
Has he followed me?
She nearly dropped a tray of drinks, she was so distracted.
Quicksilver memories slid through her brain—seeing him for the first time at her parents’ home near the river, the smell of magnolia in the air, spring air clear, the cloudless sky a cerulean blue, the murmur of guests as they’d wandered the grounds. His gaze had found hers and she’d sensed then that he was a rogue, a handsome man whose civility was probably only skin deep, that there was more to him to explore.
He’d wooed her easily, his laughter infectious, his kisses promising so much more, his hands on her body exciting and a little rough, but she’d wanted something that would crack the veneer of her family’s genteel and oh, so fake civility.
The summer had swept by in dark moonlit nights, hours of pent-up passion, and quick decisions that, in hindsight, had proved deadly—a wedding on the broad lawn under a hot August sun. Sultry air and thick clouds, a storm brewing that had been, as she looked upon it now, a warning she hadn’t heeded.
“Jessica?” Misty’s harsh voice broke into her reverie. “I think table seven might want those.” She nodded her head at the tray of burgers Jessica had been holding, the one that shook in her trembling hands. “Hey, you all right?”
