The boy pats the greenish blue soil at his side. “Come sit with me. If you aren’t going to take a toke, you can at least keep me company.”

  My gaze travels from his narrow fingers splayed on the earth up to his tanned arm and neck, slipping past his thick bottom lip the color of pale raspberries before settling on his eyes the same warm hue as the bark of the hickory tree behind him. My stomach tightens with an unfamiliar sensation. I can’t seem to make myself walk away from this beautiful boy even though my mom will be super mad that I’m late.

  Pressing my lips together, I lower down at his side and cross my legs, willing my throat not to tighten any more. I already feel as if I’ll choke to death. Beyond the faint odor of sweat and something that reminds me of one of those scratch-and-sniff skunk stickers, his skin has a spicy scent. When I sniff him again, my stomach does a funny little dance.

  “What’s your name?” he asks.

  “Jackie. What’s yours?”

  “Everyone calls me J.R.—it’s short for Junior.”

  “What are you doing here by yourself?” I ask, pulling my legs against my chest and glancing at him over my knees. “Don’t you have any friends?”

  “Don’t you?” J.R. fires back, one sandy brown eyebrow raised.

  Eyeing the chipped orange polish on my toes, I think of Becky Myers. She was the oldest one in her grade before she was held back a year, so she’s two years older than most sixth graders. We sometimes played together at recess in 5th grade. Even though she only lives four trailers down from ours, I haven’t seen her around all summer. I was surprised when the pretty little invite to her sleepover appeared in our mailbox a couple of weeks after the start of summer break. The yellowed paper was folded in half with my name written among hand-drawn stars and rainbows. I have a feeling I might be the only person she invited since none of the other kids at school ever want anything to do with her. She’s really pretty, but she wears dirty clothes and talks a little funny, like she isn’t very smart. She also has a mean dad who drinks a lot and throws crushed beer cans at anyone who steps on his lawn. He’s the only reason I really don’t want to go to her party.

  From behind my knees, I shrug as a blush spreads across my cheeks. I’m not about to admit I’m a loner.

  “I’m just yanking your chain,” J.R. says, finally letting me off the hook. “I don’t have any friends here. I just moved to town with my old man.” With another dazzling grin, he reaches out to gently tug my braid over my shoulder. “I guess I could become friends with a twelve-year-old girl.”

  “I’m not a girly girl,” I declare, all at once wishing I hadn’t let my sister braid my hair before we left home, and that I hadn’t worn a pink and white striped tank top, or rode my pink bike. I nudge my braid back behind my shoulder. “I like riding bike…and listening to music.”

  “Oh yeah? What kind of music?”

  Panic zaps down my spine. I only listen to whatever’s playing on the K-Dog radio station while my mom’s at work, and I really don’t know the different “kinds.” Some are fast paced with a lot of drums and a lot of yelling. Some are slow and dreamy with a gentle voice and softer music in the background. “Whatever,” I say. “I like all kinds.”

  “My old man has a ton of electropop vinyls. I kind of dig it.”

  What the heck is electropop? I wonder. “I like electropop too,” I say anyway, even though I have no idea what the word even means.

  “Cool.” Head tilted to one side, J.R. studies my face, as if waiting to catch me in the lie. “What’s your favorite song?”

  Sweat pricks beneath my hairline. I don’t know the name of a single song or band. I only remember our elementary music teacher, Mrs. Lewinsky, introducing us to certain melodies she enjoyed.

  I say, “I really like that song that goes, ‘you may be right, I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for.’”

  He looks as if he’s on the verge of laughter when his eyebrows squiggle up and down. “Never heard of it.”

  “I think it’s new.” I point to his Walkman. “What are you listening to?”

  “Gary Numan. Some of the songs on this tape are crap, but I really dig ‘Cars.’ Have you heard it?”

  “I love that one,” I lie once again.

  “I guess it wouldn’t be so bad having a girl as a friend,” he decides. With a chuckle, he reaches over to tug my braid a little harder. “Why are you out here by yourself, anyway? Don’t you know it isn’t safe for girls like you? My old man said there’s a curfew coming soon.”

  Irritated that he’s so focused on my braid, I nudge his fingers away. “How would he know that?”

  “He’s a police detective. We only came back here because of the girls that have gone missing in the area.” He looks annoyed when he adds, “He’s good at solving murder cases and shit.”

  A trickling cold spreads over my face, sending painful chills down my back. More than one girl from Mankato is missing? Was my mom right about Shannon? Has she been murdered?

  “What girls?” I whisper.

  “My old man isn’t supposed to talk about details of his cases with me, but I overheard him mention some names in a conversation with someone on the phone—Shannon Bentzen and Rebecca something or other. He’s out now with the cops, leading a search party.” He glances up at the sky, tapping his chin. “Wait…I know the other last name because it was the same as one of those slasher movie guys that kills everyone.” He takes another drag of the strange cigarette. “Not Krueger…not Voorhees…” He glances back at me, his eyes wide as smoke curls out from his nostrils. “I know! It was Myers! You know, like Michael!”

  A massive sob lodges in my throat. “Becky Myers?”

  “Yep, that’s it.” He notices the tears in my eyes and frowns. “Oh shit. You know her?”

  When my stomach folds over itself the same way it does when I get the flu, I scramble to my feet. My legs don’t feel strong enough to hold me up when I stand. “I have to go,” I tell him, turning away right as fat tears freely flow down my face.

  Who would want to hurt someone as innocent as Becky? I’ve never heard her say a mean thing to anyone, even to defend herself. Could she really be dead? Everyone knows her dad is mean, but would he kill his own daughter?

  J.R.’s sandaled feet crunch on the sticks behind me as I wrestle my bike away from the tree. “Hold on, Jackie.” He touches the back of my arm, waiting for me to turn back to him. “Are you okay?”

  Swiping my arm over my wet face, I close my eyes and slowly shake my head. “Becky’s my friend.”

  His warm fingers encircle my wrist. “I shouldn’t have said that thing about my old man and murder cases. Just because they can’t find her doesn’t mean she’s dead. Sometimes missing kids like her are found and brought back home. Maybe she just ran away.”

  My stomach hurts too much to say anything in reply.

  “Why don’t I go with you?” he offers, his voice gentle. “I’ll stand on the pedals and you can ride behind me on the seat. I give my little cousin a ride that way all the time. I promise it’s safe—you just have to hold onto me, and tell me where to turn.”

  I allow the new boy with eyes the color of warm hickory to guide me onto the seat of my bike and wrap my arms around his waist when he climbs on in front of me.

  As I direct him to my house, the little knots in my stomach keep churning over and over. What if he’s wrong, and Becky is dead?

  START READING LOST GIRLS OF KATO

  NOW AVAILABLE! In Her Father’s Shadow

  "An emotionally-consuming novel of strength, growth, and love that will leave you with a dizzying book hangover." - Jennifer Donovan, Discovery Reviewer

  Fans of Nora Roberts and Sandra Brown will enjoy the heart-wrenching story of a woman embracing a past trauma in the face of danger in award-winning author Quinn Avery’s newest standalone, In Her Father’s Shadow.

  Sienna Rivers’s aspirations for a normal childhood came crashing down the night they discovered her father was a serial killer. Once her mother’s illusion of a perfect family is destroyed, Sienna is sent to live with the only other “family” she knows. After a lifetime of living with her mother’s perfection and rules, Sienna (now going by “Rowan”) struggles to find a new kind of normal in the tranquil seaside town of Blue Bay.

  Nightmares, paranoia, guilt, and a mistrust in men weigh her down as she navigates her way into adulthood, forging important friendships that will shape who she becomes. Once she takes the first leap toward her dream career, she’ll unknowingly seal a fate that will circle back to her father’s transgressions. When she finally allows herself to form the most important relationship of her life with a man who earns her trust, however, a new level of terror will arise…

  Grab your copy of In Her Father’s Shadow

  The Bexley Squires mystery series is now available! Start reading with the first book, The Dead Girl’s Stilettos!

  Fans of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum and Willow Rose's Emma Frost will devour award-winning author Quinn Avery’s Bexley Squires series. “Bexley is a great leading lady who, with a little sass, just enough self-doubt to make her relatable, and plenty of intelligence, will have readers coming back for more.” -InD’tale Magazine

  Bexley Squires is asked by one of Hollywood’s brightest stars to clear his name as a suspect in a Jane Doe’s murder. But her skills as an amateur sleuth weren’t enough to find her missing sister. Does she have what it takes to find a killer?

  The elite seaside community of Papaya Springs has become more corrupt than Bexley imagined. All too soon, she stumbles into a web of twisted games played by the rich and famous. Along with the detective in charge of the case, who also happens to be her high school crush, she’ll uncover a level of depravity unlike anything she’s ever known.

  Start reading the series!

  ALSO BY QUINN AVERY

  BEXLEY SQUIRES MYSTERIES

  The Dead Girl’s Stilettos

  The Million Dollar Collar

  The Guard’s Last Watch

  The Skeleton Key’s Secrets

  The Notebook’s Untold Truths

  TIKI TROUBLE MYSTERY SERIES

  Moscow Mules & Murder

  STANDALONES

  What They Never Said

  In Her Father’s Shadow

  Woman Over the Edge

  Deadly Paradise

  Lost Girls of Kato

  Right Across the Bay

  Want a little more heat in your stories?

  Check out Quinn’s romantic suspense pen name:

  BOOKS BY JENNIFER ANN

  www.AuthorJenniferAnn.com

  KENDALL FAMILY SERIES

  Brooklyn Rockstar

  Midwest Fighter

  Manhattan Millionaire

  Oceanside Marine

  Kendall Family Christmas

  Miami Bodyguard

  American Farmer

  FALLEN HEROES DUET

  Fighting for Phoebe

  Fighting for Alexa

  ROCK BOTTOM SERIES

  Outrageous

  Notorious

  Courageous

  Ferocious

  NYC LOVE SERIES

  Adam’s List

  Kelly’s Quest

  Chloe’s Dream

  STANDALONES

  Broken Little Melodies

  The Secrets Between Us

  MC ROMANCES

  Inferno Glory MC

  Jawa’s Angels MC

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  You’d think remembering who to thank in each book would get easier, but here I am on book #42, knees weak and palms sweaty as I try to think of something clever to say.

  First of all, I want to share my gratitude for Najla Qamber and her amazing team. Najla delivered the gorgeous cover I was hoping for and was always right on top of things when I asked for a tweak or update. We’ve been working together for over a decade now and I can’t express how much I love the working relationship we’ve cultured!

  To my #1 fan, Christy Freeberg, thank you for always pushing me to finish when I’m not at my best and encouraging me to keep going! I value our decades-long friendship more than you know—love you more!

  Thank you to Corrie Hanson and my mom for always reading the first, wonky drafts and still continuing to cheer me on. You two are the best!

  DeDe Kelly, you rock! I’m so glad we met and became friends! I appreciate the pontoon cruises you guys take me on to get me out of the house in the summertime.

  To another dear decades-old friend, Heidi Schiltz: thanks for helping me to sound more educated than I am and for always entertaining my wild ideas! Love you, lady! You’re the best!

  To our neighbors across the bay on Lake Shetek (and other friends in the area, including Molly, Britta, Shelly, Beth, DeDe, and Pete): I hope you’re entertained by this story and understand some of your names were solely used in fun and nothing more. Thank you for accepting our friendship with open arms and making us feel at home in the hood. I’m so grateful to have met you all!

  Big thank you to my loyal fans, including the librarians and local store owners who faithfully sell my work (especially Alyssa, Becky J., Becki S., and DeDe)! You have no idea how much your support is appreciated!

  As always, thank you to my husband and kids for putting up with my BS. I’m one lucky lady to have you all behind me.

 

 

  Quinn Avery, Right Across the Bay

 

 

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