The place isn’t huge. It didn’t take long to pick Chase out of the crowd.

  I expected to find him with a group of guys, and I’d swagger up with sexy eyes, and say something flirty.

  I froze in the middle of the room, heart in my throat, and then darted back to the bar.

  Couldn’t be.

  No way.

  He wasn’t with his guy friends. He was with a woman.

  Did he have a sister I didn’t know about? Maybe a colleague? I had to have another look, so I inched over to the edge of the bar where I could see him.

  They were playing footsies under the table. He was holding her hand. I could dance the salsa on top of the bar—naked!—and he wouldn’t see me. That’s how entranced he looked.

  I thought it was impossible to feel so many things at once. Shock.

  Of course, there was shock, like freezing-cold-water-in-the-face kind of shock.

  I felt heartbreak, the kind where some Aztec tribal chief rips out your heart for elephants to stampede on, the kind where your heart feels like it’s cracked and splintered inside your chest and you can’t breathe…

  Belle gripped the pages of the journal, her heart breaking for Molly.

  …I feel naked. Exposed. This is something I’ve never even told you, dearest diary. I might be the prettiest girl in the room. I might have the most money—or my family does. I might be the most popular. But I’m just like everyone else. I just want to be loved and appreciated for who I am. I want to fall in love and get married. Have babies. You’d think with all that I’d be the most confident girl in the room…but I’m not. I struggle just like everyone else.

  “I get it,” Belle whispered, wishing she and Molly could have a heart-to-heart. She wasn’t alone in her doubts and desires.

  …What finally hit was rage.

  A rage that burned like the hottest fire—and yes, Susie, I don’t care if that’s cliché. You can stick your literary books up you-know-where—the fire was blazing and could burn this entire place down.

  There was something I needed to do first. I turned back to the bartender. “One tall glass of your cheapest beer, please.” Because Chase wasn’t worth more than that. He wasn’t even worth that.

  With the cold glass in hand, I walked slowly toward Chase. My legs were trembling with the aftereffects from the emotional dance that had gone through my insides.

  When he saw me, he yanked his hand away from the woman.

  Guilty!

  Nope. This was exactly what it looked like.

  He jolted to his feet. “Molly… I wasn’t expecting you—”

  “No, really?” Honest to goodness, I’m not the type to swear, but at that moment, I understood why people do. There was so much I wanted to say in that moment. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to let him know how hurt and betrayed I felt.

  There was a big ole knife sticking out of my back. Right then I didn’t care who the other woman was. At that point, it didn’t matter. But I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to suffer the humiliation of breaking down and sobbing in front of everyone. I managed one thing before I left. “You are officially uninvited to my party.”

  Then I threw the entire beer in his face.

  Later that night, after ignoring the calls and the texts, I made a fire in the fire pit. Between shots of vodka, I tore pages from my diary and watched them burn to ash. Then I cried.

  Right then, in my heart, I was a murderer. I wanted to see him suffer.

  I wanted to kill Chase Holloway.

  Belle let out a sigh. Reading Molly’s journey with Chase was intense and heartbreaking. Belle couldn’t stop the intense feelings from rolling through her, but it ended with sadness.

  For both of them were gone.

  Molly didn’t reveal anything new about the murder, but she showed a side of herself not everyone saw. The real Molly St. James. Someone Belle would’ve loved to call a friend.

  Just in case, Belle flipped to the last page.

  …I’ve figured it out, dear diary. It’s my birthday weekend. I know who it is. I’m going to confront her. It’s about time.

  Belle studied the journal. Someone had ripped out the next page. Now why would they rip it out unless Molly mentioned a name?

  Who would remove it?

  Someone who knew the diary existed. Someone who knew where to find it and was comfortable entering Molly’s room.

  “Fascinating stuff, right?” Susie leaned against the doorway to the bedroom. “Hard to put down once you start.”

  The blush hit hard and fast. Belle quickly put the diary back under the pillow. “I was hoping she’d reveal something new.”

  “Did she?”

  “She was going to confront the person cheating with Chase.” Belle glanced at the diary. “The last page was ripped out recently…”

  “Not surprised. She sometimes tore them out herself. I mean, she burned most of the early pages about Chase.” Susie clasped her hands in front of her chest and declared dramatically. “Oh, dearest diary.”

  The sneering, sarcastic words jarred Belle. “You know,” she said, “Molly might have been all girl. She might have written in a diary like a ten-year-old, but she would never have talked about you the way you’re talking about her.”

  “Whatever.”

  That was when they both noticed the phone on the nightstand.

  Molly’s phone!

  What if Molly had texted the other woman for a meet-up? What if there was more evidence? Or pictures?

  It was as if both Susie and Belle came to that realization at the same time.

  Susie dove for it, but Belle was faster and grabbed it.

  Susie tried to shrug it off, but was breathless. “I could always guess her passcodes, but the face recognition thing is impossible to crack. I bet she might have texted the killer…”

  “The screen is shattered,” Belle said. Someone had slammed the heel of their foot on it or hit it with something hard. Possibly destroying evidence. She bet Lucas knew people who could still hack it. There was no way she would mention that to Susie, because suddenly, to Belle, Susie seemed a lot more guilty. Maybe she wanted the phone to destroy evidence? “Looks like it still has life.”

  Susie held out her hand. “Let me see.”

  “I think it should go to Detective Graystone.”

  Susie shrugged, then flounced from the room, leaving Belle alone to think. She didn’t know for sure, but most likely, someone had tried to destroy the phone, which meant there might be something on it. Of course, she could hand it straightaway to Lucas, or she could hack it herself.

  She knew exactly how to do it, too.

  Even though the prospect was grim and just the thought of it creeped her out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucas repeated the question to Peter. “Who do you think killed your sister?”

  Peter stared at him. “I don’t know. I’d say Max, the creep.”

  At first, Peter ended his thoughts there, but Lucas noticed that everyone was quick to point out Max as the likely killer, or the one to look at it. Max was the outsider in a lot of ways. He was older. He didn’t hang with the others. He was easy to blame. But, so far, no one had followed up that statement with anything convincing. Lucas raised an eyebrow at Peter, hoping he’d expand.

  Peter stammered out, “We all thought he was weird. An older guy hanging out, being the close friend to the woman who rejected him. I told Molly as much, but she refused to see the bad side to anyone. That was a fault. That’s why she continued to be Max’s friend and why she wouldn’t see Chase for who he was.”

  “Hmm. Some people would say that is a strength. Not everyone takes the time to see the good in people.”

  “Yeah, I guess, but you also don’t have to become their best friend or want to marry them.”

  “Tell me how you felt about Chase possibly cheating on your sister?” Lucas asked.

  “The guy’s a jerk.” Peter shrugged, then stifled a laugh. “I learned a long time ago to stay out of my sisters’ love lives. I tried, in the past, to offer my advice. They didn’t want it.”

  “What about Susie?” Lucas asked.

  That took Peter off guard. His eyes widened. “You mean as the…killer?” Peter straightened, grew stern. “I know she’s rough around the edges. But never. She wouldn’t do it.”

  “No one ever thinks a loved one could be a murderer.”

  “Susie’s done okay for herself. You don’t understand. My dad was all about business. First, he put the pressure on me, but I wanted nothing to do with it. I acted the goof so he wouldn’t seriously consider me. That’s how badly I didn’t want to be under his mentorship for life. It worked. He overlooked me and put his sight on Molly. Or Max through Molly.”

  “Not Susie?” Lucas asked, realizing that Peter had just confessed he was much smarter than he acted. Maybe smart enough to plan his sister’s murder and get away with it. But he lacked motive, other than the same motive assigned to Susie. Jealousy. Peter didn’t want that attention, though.

  “Susie’s the baby. He probably will consider her now.” He bit his lip, possibly realizing that gave Susie a motive. “I mean, maybe. Not sure Susie would even want it. She’s settled on some kind of art career.”

  Lucas shifted. “What about your friends?”

  “My friends?”

  “Yes. Do any of them have a motive? Have they had fights with her? Or did they know Chase?”

  “First, Molly doesn’t fight with anyone. Sure, the guys had crushes on her, but nothing too serious. I warned them away from her with the threat of my fists.”

  “How about Kara?”

  “Kara?” Peter seemed surprised at every new name Lucas mentioned. “Nah, she’s been seeing Little Pete. She’s met Molly once, if that.”

  “I’ve seen young couples together and the way they act. No one would guess Little Pete and Kara were an item unless told. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

  “Nah. It’s in the early stages. Little Pete isn’t one to hang all over his girlfriends. Anyway, I don’t keep track of my friends’ relationships.” Peter hesitated, then asked, “Not sure if I want to know, but who’s topping the suspect list?”

  Lucas was honest. “Chase was at the top for your sister’s murder. I have my doubts now. I had a few tough questions for him this morning. Obviously, that’s not going to happen.”

  That was when Lucas noticed Peter’s build. He was naturally strong and muscular, but he had a gym rat kind of body. Someone strong. Someone who knew there was a heavy marble paperweight in the office off the kitchen. Someone strong enough to use that paperweight to take out the person he thought hurt his sister. Lucas added, “I’m not ruling out Chase as a suspect in what happened to your sister.”

  Confusion crossed Peter’s face, then understanding. “Two killers?”

  “I’m thinking the second murder was revenge. Someone who cared deeply about Molly was furious and he—or she—couldn’t handle not dishing out justice.” Then he further pushed the envelope to provoke a reaction from Peter. “Have you always been a protective older brother?”

  Like Lucas suspected, Peter was smarter than he acted. Complete understanding of Lucas’ accusation brought out a response. Peter narrowed his eyes, enraged, and, for the first time, Lucas saw someone who could kill.

  Peter turned and stalked toward the house.

  Lucas stayed at the dock for a few more minutes. Peter had him fooled as the innocent, goofy brother. He played the part well. Susie had learned to act the role of rebellious younger sister. She knew the part well. But Peter had admitted their father was emotionally absent. It could be both Peter and Susie had learned how to shut off their emotions. Once someone does that, the next step would be shutting off those emotions to commit a murder.

  Briefly, Lexie came to mind. He worried. Right now, he couldn’t wait for the cops to arrive, and as much as he wanted to see this case through, he wanted to be with Lexie more. After seeing these dysfunctional adults, he wanted to wrap Lexie up in a hug and tell her over and over that she is loved, not for what she does or how she performs, but just for being her.

  He headed up to the house.

  Inside, he found everyone in the dining room. It was like they were waiting for the executioner. He poured more coffee from the carafe and took a seat across from Kara.

  “Hey,” he said. “Haven’t talked to you since last night. How’re you holding up?”

  Kara squirmed. “Ready to get out of here and forget it all.”

  “It’s hard to forget a death when you’ve seen it up front and personal. Don’t be surprised at unexpected tears or other similar reactions. Be kind to yourself.” He’d seen it enough. Sometimes, the shock, the reality of it didn’t hit until you were alone.

  Then, unexpectedly, she shared. “I’m just so upset for Peter. It’s his sister, and this being her big birthday weekend. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.”

  “You can’t?” he asked.

  “Well”—she flushed—“I guess I can imagine, but not really. Sometimes you can’t understand until it’s happened to you.”

  He’d give her that. “Peter mentioned you were seeing Little Pete. That true?”

  She shifted in her seat, her gaze darting toward the exit. “We’ve been out a few times.”

  “It’s nice to have someone there for you,” he added, casually. “I was wondering if you’ve recalled any more details about last night. You said you heard a man arguing with Molly and you saw a tall shape run away. You still standing by that? Is that what you’re going to say in your statement to the cop who takes over?”

  “Yes.” She studied him, as if trying to figure out why he asked her that. “Why would it change?”

  He sipped from his mug, taking his time. “Sometimes, in the moment, our perception can be off. The next day, the next morning, we realize the man’s voice might have been a woman’s. Or maybe the tall shape wasn’t as tall as we originally thought.”

  She shook her head. “No, sorry. Nothing new came to me this morning. I’ll let you know if it does.”

  “What about Chase?” he asked. “How well did you know him?” Lucas decided to poke the bear. “Any reason to kill him?”

  Everyone in the room grew quiet.

  Then, sirens.

  They heard them, the wailing sound of the police heading in this direction. He’d have to finish questioning later, or the police taking over would.

  “Excuse me.” Lucas stood. “I’ll go meet them and fill them in on what’s happened.”

  He strode across the room, happy to leave, happy to be handing it over in the next few minutes. He stopped at the door and looked back. There had been one more question he’d wanted to ask Kara, but she was on her way out of the room. People had that reaction after talking to a cop, especially after a murder.

  It made them nervous.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Belle figured there had to be a back way downstairs to the kitchen. Something besides the staircase leading to the great room. She wanted to slip into the pantry without the others noticing. She searched the hallway until her eyes rested on a narrow staircase at the end.

  She studied the phone once more. Yes, the screen was shattered, but whoever tried to destroy it didn’t do a thorough job, because when Belle lifted it the screen flickered to life.

  The sound of sirens filled the air and grew louder every second, sending a chill down her spine. At any moment, Lucas would be outside with the cops, and everyone would focus on the cops and be looking out the window. Not at her sneaking downstairs.

  This might be her only chance.

  At the stairs, she took a breath and crept down. Every creak sounded like thunder or lightning, something loud enough to give her away, like everyone could hear her throughout the house and when she got to the first floor, they’d all be there, waiting for her.

  Heart hammering and her breath sounding like a locomotive, Belle made it to the bottom and peeked into the kitchen. Relief flooded through her when she saw Gladys facing away from her at the sink. This was the time.

  Taking a deep breath, Belle darted across the room praying that each footfall was silent enough so Gladys wouldn’t notice her.

  She slipped into the pantry.

  She eased the door closed, leaving it open a faint crack for the sunlight to slip through from the kitchen. With a racing heart, she scoured her surroundings as her eyes adjusted to the darker room.

  Her gaze landed on the ominous white chest freezer that seemed to stand out like a beacon compared to the collection of dry goods on the shelves. She cringed at the task before her.

  She held her breath, bracing herself for what she knew had to be done. Knowing there was no turning back, Belle steadied her nerves and forced one tentative foot forward, then another.

  The closer she got to the freezer, the less she could control her body’s trembling. The room was suddenly about a hundred degrees. Beads of sweat formed along her hairline, prickling her skin.

  She didn’t have to do this gruesome task before her; instead, she could go stand with Lucas and hand the phone to the police taking over the case. But what if they didn’t appreciate all the legwork Lucas had put in questioning everyone? Maybe they would be huffy and discount any and all theories. Unless…Belle had cold, hard evidence.

  That was enough to push her into a decision. Just do it quickly and get it over with.

  When she reached it, she stared at its hulking white mass for a few moments before realizing that she hadn’t considered exactly how this would work. Would it work? Maybe too much time had passed and Molly’s body had already started decomposing—that’s why they put her in the freezer.

  Taking a deep breath, she lifted the lid, and with the other hand, she whipped Molly’s phone in front of what she hoped was Molly’s face, then whipped it back out.

  Nothing. Of course, it wouldn’t be that simple.

  She’d have to go slowly and carefully. This time, with steady breaths, she opened the freezer and looked at Molly. She fought back the sob at the sight of the body. It was more obvious than before that this was not Molly—no glimmering eyes, no warmth radiating from her, no shimmer of kindness. This was just a body. This was just bones and tissue.