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Ever the voice of reason, Michael hisses, “Easy, both of you.” But even as he warns us, my little brother moves, striding until he reaches the bottom of the staircase. His lean body rests against the post like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he couldn’t kill both the officers before I finished my coffee. The one sitting on the kitchen counter going cold beside the cup I made for Charlotte.
And my anxiety spikes again. This is the first time I have left her alone, and while I don’t think she would have run earlier had Michael not been there, I’m not entirely sure how convinced she is of the consequences should she try anything.
My clueless father smiles at his old classmate. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, Jeff, but everyone knows that if my family and I are here, it’s to get away from our businesses and the town. What can I do for you?”
McCallister nods in the direction of my sister, who has decided to place herself a little too close to Cooper for my liking. My sister is not marrying a cop.
Over my dead body. Or better yet . . . his.
The smirk on Kaleb’s face tells me he had the same thought.
“Perhaps the little ladies should go upstairs for this?”
Maybe killing a cop would be worth the heat,I think as my mothers’ lips thin.
At my father’s unimpressed look, the sheriff rushes on. “Seems you had some squatters up at the camp last night.”
My feet shift to face toward the stairs, everything in me screaming to block the way. I force myself to take a deep breath. I trust Michael. No one is getting past him.
“You said we had squatters?” my father questions, placing a hand on my mother’s knee.
The sheriff nods solemnly. “We got a call about there being lights on up there. The whole town knows about your family coming here for the holiday weekend, so I thought you’d stopped by on your way past,” he continues, his words directed at my father.
“Have they made a mess?” my mother asks, clutching her neck. The quiver in her voice tells me she knows where this is going, but the two officers assume her worry is for the property, the same as my father does.
His hand squeezes her leg. They have always been an affectionate couple, something I failed to understand before now.
“Yeah, it was a mess,” Cooper mutters to himself, earning a reprimanding glare from his boss.
“What Cooper means is that there’s been . . . an accident of sorts,” he explains, stumbling over his choice of words. “They were killed. College kids from Boise, five of them.”
The noise my mother makes chips at my cold heart. Her cries muffle against my father’s shirt, and he reaches out for Samantha, who quickly forgets about the useless cop beside her and hurries over into his arms.
“I’m sorry to have to inform you like this,” he tells them, but his body language says he’s anything but.
“We found some ID on them, and Delila already confirmed a few of them worked at the camp last summer.”
Delila Masters has been running the camp for the past fifteen years, but she doesn’t know anything that I need to worry about.
“One of the boys, Jason, was a particular pain in the ass. Her words.” He chuckles. Delila is also the local preschool teacher, known for her patience with both children and adults. Her words speak volumes of the asshole that he was.
“We think one of them copied a key. Seems he’s likely the culprit.”
My dad nods. “Have the families been informed?”
“Yes, yes.”
“We’ll head down once the scene is released and clean the place up,” Kaleb offers, trying to wrap things up. “Like it never happened,” he promises, his words for my mother.
He may not have joined us this year, but he has in the past. Several times. Kaleb is a hunter, a master with a knife. But if there’s no chase, there’s no thrill in it for him.
“We actually came for two reasons,” McCallister starts. “We saw that there was a fourth bed made up. Two couples and a single male were found. It sounds to reason that another person was there who may be our killer. Delila tells me that one of the deceased was always with another girl this summer.” And there it is. He’s fishing. “Charlie.” The nickname makes my eye twitch.
“My brother’s girl.” Michael speaks up, motioning to where I stand. “Everyone knows about her. They’ve not hidden their relationship. And that good girl is definitely not a killer.”
McCallister eyes me, but my brother talking for me is nothing new, so thankfully, he doesn’t challenge it.
I don’t think I could rein myself in and answer his fucking questions at the same time.
