As soon as she’d closed the door behind Kerri, she added, “Sarah is lying down. She came home very tired. I’m certain it’s depression.” She exhaled a weary breath. “Who wouldn’t be depressed.”

  “It’s a terrible situation,” Kerri agreed.

  “Would you like tea?”

  That was another thing. Renae was a tea person. Kerri couldn’t recall ever seeing her with a mug of coffee. Hot tea was one thing Kerri had never learned to enjoy. It was like wine; it gave the appearance of a bit more sophistication. Coffee and beer drinkers were a little less classy.

  “No thank you.”

  “Join me in the kitchen,” Renae suggested. “I really need tea.”

  Kerri followed her through the family room into a kitchen that would make any chef jealous. Lucky for Kerri, she wasn’t a chef.

  While Renae lit the flame under the kettle, Kerri slid onto a stool at the island. “I’m sure Sarah is as devastated by what happened as Tori.”

  Renae leaned against the counter next to the stove. “Unquestionably. Do you have any news on Brendal’s condition?”

  “Unchanged. I’m hoping for better news soon.”

  Renae gathered a cup and tea bag. Her hand slowed as she reached for a spoon. She lowered it to the counter and turned back to Kerri. “Sarah is frightened. Terribly, terribly frightened.”

  “Tori too,” Kerri commented. “We’ve all just started to heal after Amelia’s death and now this.”

  “Sarah said Brendal had given Tori a hard time about what happened to Amelia. Did you know that?”

  Kerri schooled the surprise that streamed through her. “Tori didn’t mention it.”

  Renae poured the hot water into her cup before turning back to Kerri. “Brendal is a bit of a bully. Even when she was just a toddler, she pushed the other kids around. You know we attend church with Brendal and her family.”

  Kerri had forgotten. “I see.”

  The other woman seemed to catch herself. “I didn’t mean to speak ill of the poor girl. But everyone knows how Brendal is.”

  Kerri held up her hands. “No, I get it. I’ve heard the same thing from others.”

  A frown marred the older woman’s perfectly smooth forehead. “Really. Have you been talking to the other parents?”

  “No, no.” Kerri shook her head in emphasis. “I meant I’ve heard people make those sorts of statements before. Before what happened.” She shrugged. “You know, like on the soccer field. At the Christmas program rehearsals.”

  Renae nodded as if Kerri’s explanation seemed plausible. She went on, “Brendal has always been the chosen one. At church and at school.”

  For a moment—a single moment—Renae allowed Kerri to see and hear a hint of jealousy. Then she banished it and smiled. “I guess when your daughter is as beautiful as Brendal and, my word, as intelligent, it just makes sense that she always rises to the top. You certainly can’t blame a child for being all she can be.”

  A lone nod seemed an adequate response. “Tori told me what a terrible time Brendal had been giving Sarah recently. I know that must have been difficult for her. Sarah is such a sweet, kind girl.”

  A cloud of uncertainty passed over Renae’s face before she could stop it. “You know how girls are at this age. All those hormones.” She made a tsking sound. “I don’t know how any of us survived it.”

  Kerri pinned on a sad smile. “It really is a difficult stage.”

  The silence went on for a beat or two too long.

  “I’m certain you know Sarah would never hurt anyone, not even someone who had been unkind to her.”

  “Never,” Kerri agreed. “She and Tori are very much alike in that. They are too kind and far too sweet to hurt anyone.”

  “Tori hasn’t mentioned the issues she was having with Brendal of late?” Renae reached for the spoon again and added sugar to her cup. “A lot of the children are talking about it. Sarah has been very worried about her.”

  “We’ve discussed at length how hurtful bullies can be.” The answer wasn’t really an answer, more an avoidance of the question since Tori hadn’t mentioned any such issue. In fact, she’d said Sarah was the one on the receiving end of Brendal’s recent attention.

  Renae picked up her cup of tea. “Young girls do like their secrets.”

  Kerri somehow managed a vague tilt of her head. “Tori learned a hard lesson last year about keeping secrets, even the seemingly harmless kind.”

  Renae only smiled before sipping her tea.

  Again, Falco’s words reverberated inside Kerri. “I’m glad the girls were able to give coherent statements after what they went through.”

  This was straight-up fishing. Kerri hoped like hell it worked.

  Renae shook her head with the same weariness and sadness she’d been wearing since she’d opened the door to Kerri. “Sarah can hardly remember anything. She said it happened so fast. Everything was just a blur. Of course, she’s never experienced any sort of trauma like this.”

  “As a detective, I’ve tried to impress upon Tori the importance of paying attention to the details. You’d be surprised how much happens in a split second that we don’t see if we’re not paying attention.”

  Renae set her cup aside. “I’m sorry. I really should check on Sarah now. We’ll have to talk again soon.”

  Rather than push more questions at the other woman, Kerri followed her back to the door. Renae opened it, but Kerri hesitated before leaving. “Maybe the news will be better next time. Tori and I sent flowers to the hospital. As soon as Brendal is well enough, we’re planning a visit.”

  “Brendal can’t have visitors yet, but Sarah and I visited her parents yesterday. They’re holding up as well as can be expected.”

  Kerri had known Renae wouldn’t be able to let the comment pass without a comeback of her own. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Kerri headed for the street.

  How the hell had Renae and Sarah managed a visit with Brendal’s parents? Kerri gave herself a mental kick. What was she thinking? The two families attended the same church and Dr. Talley likely knew everyone in the hospital. Did Sykes and Peterson know about the visit? No wonder Renae hadn’t returned her calls. She was too busy making sure her daughter was in the clear.

  Aren’t you doing the same thing?

  Kerri refused to consider her investigative attempts to be the same as Renae’s obvious steps to set the stage for her daughter’s innocence.

  By the time Kerri reached the sidewalk she was mentally kicking herself. Of course Sarah was innocent, and so was Tori. This situation was getting to her, making adversaries of longtime friends.

  Tires squealed as a car screeched to the curb in front of her.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Devlin?” Peterson shouted out the driver’s-side window as he lowered it.

  Damn. She was caught.

  Sykes was out of the passenger-side door and striding her way. “You know better than this, Devlin,” he reminded her. “This is interfering with an investigation.”

  “Seriously? Renae and Sarah are our friends. I wanted to check on Sarah.”

  “Maybe that’s the way of it,” Sykes said, “but you know better than this.”

  “I didn’t talk to Sarah.”

  Peterson was out of the car, standing in the huddle now. “You cannot do this shit, Devlin. Stay away from the Talleys and the Cortez girl and her folks.”

  “What the hell?” She looked from Peterson to Sykes. “You two know me better than this. It was a quick visit. No big deal.”

  “But it is a big deal,” Sykes countered. “Brendal Myers just died. Until we can rule out foul play, this is a homicide case.”

  Sykes had lost her at died.

  Brendal Myers was dead.

  Regret, horror . . . fear all twisted inside Kerri. Dead. Those poor parents. Air forced its way into her empty, starving lungs. This was the worst possible news.

  Kerri had to get to Tori before she heard this some other way.

  As she drove away, leaving the two detectives glaring after her, she recognized she could no longer put off calling Tori’s father about the situation. He had a right to know. But first she had to call Falco.

  She needed to hear his voice.

  Swanner Residence

  Twenty-Third Avenue South

  Birmingham, 6:30 p.m.

  “Hey,” Kerri called as she entered her sister’s kitchen. “Sorry I’m late.” She forced her lips into some semblance of what she hoped was a smile. She couldn’t talk about what she’d just learned. Not until she was alone with Tori.

  She had to be strong. Keep it together.

  Diana and Jennifer Whitten—Jen—were seated at the island. Jen was like another sister. She and Diana had been best friends for as long as Kerri could remember. Sadly, Jen was the only person Kerri knew who had worse luck with men than her. She’d been married and divorced three times. Kerri had long ago lost count of her numerous and often short-lived relationships. Everyone had their weaknesses, and men just happened to be Jen’s.

  “No worries. Tori’s playing video games with the boys,” Diana said. “You want a beer?”

  Kerri shook her head, barely holding herself together. The last thing she wanted to do was fall apart in the middle of her sister’s kitchen. Diana had enough hurt of her own to suffer. “Thanks, but I just want to get home.”

  Jen frowned. “If you’re not willing to have a beer with us, things must have been really shitty today.”

  Jen had always been on the blunt side. It was one of the things Kerri and Diana loved about her. At the moment she had no idea how right she was. “Really, really shitty,” Kerri confessed, her voice brittle.

  Diana pressed her fingers to her lips for a moment as a realization sank in. “It’s the Myers girl. She took a turn for the worse?”

  Kerri nodded stiffly. “She died.”

  Everything inside Kerri had expanded and swollen to the point she felt ready to choke to death. Her heart thumped so hard she could scarcely think. Between the Talley house and here she had called Falco and given him the news. He was coming over as soon as he finished for the day. He would help navigate the new direction this tragedy had taken. Tori would need them both.

  “Oh my God.” Jen was off her stool and rushing around the island to give Kerri a hug before the words stopped ringing in the air. “I am so sorry, sweetie. This is hard, I know.”

  Diana joined the hug. “We’ll get through this. Tori will be okay.”

  Kerri closed her eyes tight to hold back the emotion burning there. If she allowed the tears, she might not be able to present a picture of strength for Tori. Tori would need her to be strong. The girl’s death was awful, awful, awful. There was no way to change that. But she did not want this to damage Tori and her friends in some irreparable way. It was bad enough as it was.

  When they’d pulled away from each other and settled around the island, Diana said, “Maybe Tori should stay home from school for a few days.”

  Kerri shook her head. “I’m not sure if that’s the right move. Rumors are rampant at school already. All three girls are under scrutiny. And Renae Talley is going the distance to cover for her daughter.”

  “What do you mean?” Jen asked.

  Steadying herself, Kerri went over her visit with Renae and then the confrontation in the street with Sykes and Peterson.

  “That bitch,” Jen growled. “How dare she make out like her daughter is more innocent than Tori.”

  Diana gave a dry laugh. “Hear, hear.” Her expression turned somber. “Are you worried? I mean, really worried?”

  “Of course I’m worried,” Kerri admitted. “Not about what I know so far, obviously. But about what I don’t know, and I don’t know a lot. Which is why I’m really worried.”

  Jesus Christ, how could this be happening?

  “Why are you worried?”

  Kerri turned to find her daughter standing in the wide doorway between the living room and the kitchen. Oh hell.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Diana said, “would you like a Coke or something?”

  Tori shook her head, the fear on her face breaking Kerri’s heart. “No. I want to hear why my mom is worried.”

  Kerri stood and walked toward her daughter. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I just learned that Brendal didn’t make it.”

  One, two blinks. “So, she’s dead.”

  Kerri nodded. “I’m sorry, yes.”

  Tori started to tremble, and Kerri grabbed her just before her knees gave out. Her daughter clung to her and cried so hard her slim body shuddered. Kerri hugged her close and stroked her hair, all the while whispering soothing assurances. Diana and Jen wrapped their arms around the both of them, and they all cried together for a bit.

  “Who died?” one of the twins demanded.

  Diana pulled away. “Ryan, where’s your brother?”

  “Tell me,” the older-by-two-minutes twin repeated. “What happened? The last time you were all crying like this, it was Amelia.”

  River came up next to his brother. “What’s going on?”

  Tori pulled free of her mother and turned to her cousins. “She died. Brendal died. And everyone thinks I had something to do with it.”

  “No,” Kerri argued. “No one thinks you had anything to do with what happened.”

  Tori swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yes they do. Even Sarah’s not talking to me right now. They think it was me. And now Brendal is dead.”

  Kerri tried to pull Tori into her arms once more, but she drew away. “No one—NO ONE,” Kerri emphasized, “believes you had anything to do with Brendal falling.”

  “I wish I was the one who had died.”

  Tori rushed out of the house. Kerri started to go after her, but Diana held her back. They watched as Tori loaded into the Wagoneer.

  “She’s upset. Not thinking. She didn’t mean what she said.” Kerri looked from Diana to Jen and back.

  “Kerri,” Diana said, her expression dead serious, “don’t even go there. You take those words as if you know she meant them. Do you hear me? Take no chances.”

  Her sister was right.

  Tori was in a very dangerous place.

  Kerri had no idea how to help her. But she would move heaven and earth trying.

  Devlin Residence

  Twenty-First Avenue South

  Birmingham, 7:15 p.m.

  “I don’t want to talk.” Tori tossed her backpack on the sofa and headed for the stairs.

  “I’m sorry,” Kerri said, “that wasn’t a request. We are going to talk.”

  Tori halted, her hand on the newel post, but she didn’t look back.

  “Let’s sit and talk now. Falco is bringing dinner.”

  Tori heaved an exaggerated breath, did an about-face, and strode to the sofa. She plopped down. “So talk.” Even with her arms crossed so tightly over her chest, Tori’s shoulders shook.

  “What happened to Brendal is so, so awful. I understand you said what you did because you’re hurt and afraid. I’m certain you didn’t mean it. I also want to be certain you know I’m here for you. Whatever you need. We all are. We love you, Tori. Your family—Falco—we all love you so much. We want you to be safe and happy.”

  She looked at Kerri then, her eyes brimming with emotion, lips trembling. “Not my dad. If I was the one who died, he wouldn’t care.”

  For the first time since Kerri had caught Nick cheating, she was glad she had called him. Filling him in on what was going on with their daughter was the right decision.

  “I talked to your dad today,” Kerri said. “He’s worried too. He said if you needed him, he would be on a flight first thing in the morning.”

  A lone tear rolled down her daughter’s cheek. Kerri’s heart felt as if it were cracking apart.

  “Are you just telling me that to try making me feel better?”

  Even after a year of neglect, Tori still desperately needed her father to love her. Kerri would never forgive him for putting her through such profound uncertainty. But his rising to this challenge gave her a renewed, if marginal, ability to tolerate him.

  “I’m telling you exactly what he said. In fact”—Kerri checked the time on her cell—“he’ll be calling you any minute. He loves you too, Tori. We will get through this.”

  More tears flowed. “You promise?”

  Kerri put her arm around her trembling shoulders. “I promise. In fact, I’m so certain this is all going to be behind us very soon that I told your dad it was fine if you went to New York for a couple of weeks when the school term ends.”

  Tori swiped at the flood of tears. “He actually wants me to come for two whole weeks?”

  Kerri managed a smile. The bastard had allowed only weekend visits—and even those rarely—since the new baby was born. “He does, and I’m okay with that. I want you to be happy, Tori. Safe and happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Tori searched Kerri’s face, uncertainty clouding her expression once more. “What will you do?”

  “Don’t worry about me, kid. I’ll find plenty to do.” She had her work.

  The doorbell chimed.

  And she had Falco.

  Tori shot to her feet. “Wait till I tell Falco. He won’t believe it!”

  Relief washed over Kerri as she stood. Chasing killers was easy compared to this parenthood gig. Watching her daughter’s animated face as she shared her news with Falco almost brought tears to Kerri’s eyes.

  Falco hugged Tori, the take-out bags hanging from his hands. “This is great,” he was saying. “You’ll have to bring me a T-shirt.”

  Kerri’s phone vibrated, and Nick’s face appeared on the screen. “Tori.” She held her phone screen out so Tori could see that her father was calling.

  Tori gave Falco another hug and rushed to take the call. Chattering away to her father, she bounded up the stairs.

  Kerri suddenly felt more tired than she had ever felt in her life.

  “You did good.”

  She turned to her partner. When she’d called to tell him about Brendal’s death, she’d also told him she planned to make the call, and he’d assured her it was the right decision.