Britt turns in her seat to face me. “Your mom said that?”

  “Yeah.” I lift my chin with a bitter laugh.

  “My mom would never believe anyone in your family felt that way.” I can’t comment on the topic of her mom, and she continues. “Your dad fought so hard to keep my gran from being mayor. Mom still hasn’t forgiven him for it.”

  It’s a sting from our past, and I’m not sure how much it bothers her. “He realized he was wrong about Edna. The two of them were actually friends before he died.”

  “I know.” Her voice is quiet, and I reach over to take her hand.

  “She cares about the town, and my dad learned it from working with her. He thought she would be irresponsible and run it into the ground. He thought she’d turn Eureka into a laughingstock.” Sliding my thumb along the side of her hand, I say what I’m not sure he ever did. “He was wrong.”

  She lifts her chin, looking up at me with so much vulnerability, her small hand in mine. “Sometimes you can be wrong about people.”

  Her words settle around us like a blanket, until the GPS system interrupts, telling us we’re almost to our road. I give her hand a squeeze and return mine to the wheel. We take a narrow dirt road like so many others in this area, leading deeper into the forest, to a tiny cabin under a copse of pine trees.

  Pulling up to the place, I shift the truck into park and kill the engine. We’re quiet for a moment, waiting to see if anyone will emerge. When no one does, I take my gun out of its holster and glance over at Britt.

  “Wait here while I make sure it’s empty.”

  Her eyes are serious, and she takes out her phone, holding it in her hand. “I’m ready to call for backup if we need it.”

  Without another word, I slide out of the truck and close the door, walking slowly towards the porch. The windows are dark, and the only sound is the birds chirping overhead, the insects buzzing on the ground.

  My boots thump on the wooden planks, and I knock loudly on the front door. “Anybody home?”

  I wait, listening closely for the sound of shuffling or voices. Still, only the noise of birds and insects answer. Reaching out, I put my hand on the doorknob and turn it slowly. The door is unlocked, and it falls open easily, thumping against the wall.

  I look back at Britt, whose eyes haven’t left me. Giving her a nod, I take a step forward, through the door, looking all around to see if another human is on the premises.

  When I’m sure they’re not, I step onto the porch again and signal to her it’s all clear. She opens the door and slides out, carrying her camera as she trots up the stairs.

  “That was intense.” A shaky laugh is in her tone.

  I give her arm a squeeze. “You can never be too careful. People move out here because they don’t trust anyone. They’ll meet you at the door with a shotgun.”

  “I hear that.”

  Stepping through the small space, it looks like any other old hermit’s shack. There’s a couch and a reclining chair in front of a flatscreen television. The kitchen has a spindly wooden table and chairs, and the gas stove is ancient.

  Britt takes a few quick photos then touches my arm. “I’m going to look around outside.”

  “Be careful.” I walk to a desk in the corner, where a few of the drawers are open and the contents spilled out. It looks like someone was searching for something.

  An old photo album is open on top, and stepping closer, I see it has newspaper clippings mixed with photographs.

  “The Great Stantini?” I read the headline softly.

  Curious, I take a closer look, and I see faces I barely recognize in a few of the pictures. Tapping the light on my phone, I get closer. It’s Gwen and her husband, taken years ago.

  Lifting the thin newsprint, I read, “Escape Artist Roswell Accuses Bailey of Theft.” The next reads, “Roswell Vows Revenge,” and another, smaller article reads, “Psychic community abuzz in the wake of Bailey drowning.”

  I’m about to call Britt inside when I slide the album off the desk and a letter falls to the floor. Picking it up, my eyes scan the longhand quickly. It’s written to Gary, and the signature tightens my throat.

  It’s from Gwen.

  I know you want to stay off the grid, but you don’t have a choice now…

  It’s the closest I’ve ever been to catching him. Don’t let him get away with all he’s done, even to you. Let’s set the record straight…

  Stay strong, Gary. We’re so close. This time we’ll expose him…

  I’ve spoken to my daughter, and she won’t say anything until I tell her.

  My lungs grow tighter the more I read, the anger in my chest intensifying with every word. I’ve only felt this sensation once before, sitting in the closet of my bedroom, looking at page after page of my wife’s betrayal.

  When I get to the final sentence, I’m at maximum rage.

  Footsteps thump on the wooden floors behind me, and Britt’s bright voice enters the room.

  “Sure enough, I found them! The same ATV tire tracks are all over the place out there, and even narrower ones that might belong to a trailer. The only problem is, it’s gone. There’s not a single vehicle out there. That’s weird, right?”

  She walks over to where I’m standing, holding her camera for me to see. My jaw is tight, and I can’t look at her for fear I might grab her by the shoulders and shake her. She hid this from me. What else is she hiding?

  Grinding my jaw to stay silent, I lift my phone to take my own photos of the scene on the desk. I slide the letter into my pocket, then I turn for the door.

  “Let’s go.” My voice is rough. “We’ve got another stop to make.”

  CHAPTER 22

  BRITT

  “Did you find something in the cabin?” My voice is small in the large truck.

  Aiden doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at me. His brow is lowered, and the muscle in his jaw moves back and forth. He hasn’t said a word since we got on the road, and the knots in my stomach are making me sick.

  The radio is off, but the windows are cracked and the wind roars around them intensifying my anxiety. We’re headed back to town much faster than when we left. It’s possible we might be speeding, but I don’t know why.

  I hold my camera in my lap to keep my fingers from twisting. I feel so small, like I felt when I was young and afraid, and I had no one to hold my hand. I’m in that place again, and I don’t know why or how to stop it.

  We were so happy this morning. I was relieved we had our guy—I didn’t need my mother anymore. Now we could put all our attention on why Gary was burglarizing the town and how he died, whether at his own hand or the hand of an accomplice. I was convinced we’d find our answers at his house.

  I should’ve known it would never be that simple.

  We’re driving through town, and when we pass the courthouse, I look to Aiden again. “Where are we going?”

  Again, no answer, and the knot twists tighter in my gut. Angry Aiden is scary as fuck, and as we drive past town, out to the neighborhood I know so well, my fear intensifies.

  He pulls into my mother’s driveway and slams the truck into park before killing the engine and getting out. The door closes, and this time, he doesn’t come around to my side. He walks right up to the front porch without waiting.

  Grabbing the handle, I slide out of the seat and hurry to catch up. I’m having trouble filling my lungs with air, and by the time I reach him, he has already knocked on the door once.

  His fist rises, and he’s about to pound on the door when I hear a noise from inside.

  “Coming!” It’s my mother’s voice.

  The door flies inward, and Aiden’s fist is still raised. She lets out a little yelp and starts to close the door again, but Aiden puts his palm out and stops it.

  “It’s time to talk.” His deep voice is ominous.

  Her eyes narrow at Aiden, and she only holds the door, not opening it. “What’s this about?”

  “I’m sure you know we found a dead body in the kids’ park at the festival last night.”

  “And I’m sure you know I was working in the tarot tent all day yesterday.”

  “The body was dumped sometime Friday night, and I have reason to believe you were working with the deceased.”

  Mom’s eyes fly to me, and I’m blinking fast. “You said you would wait.”

  My eyes widen, and I shake my head no. Past the lump in my throat, I manage to whisper, “I did.”

  Aiden bristles at my side, and fear locks me in a straitjacket.

  His voice has an edge when he speaks. “Your daughter kept her word to you. We were just at Gary Blue’s house in Rockville, where I found this letter with your signature.”

  He pulls a folded sheet of thick, cream paper from his pocket and holds it out to her.

  Mom recoils. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Let me help.” He begins to read, his voice stern. “Stay strong, Gary. We’re so close. This time we’ll expose him.” He folds the paper, leveling his stormy eyes on her. “Expose who, Gwen?”

  “I’m not speaking to you about this. It’s a family matter you couldn’t possibly understand.”

  “A criminal is dead, and you’re the last one we know who communicated with him.” Aiden returns the letter to his pocket. “So perhaps this is a family matter, and you’re the prime suspect.”

  “Don’t be rude, Aiden Stone.” Mom pulls her jewel-toned, paisley-patterned silk robe tighter around her body. “My family has never been criminals.”

  She’s dressed in black leggings and a black tank top, and her curly, curly hair is full around her head. She looks every bit the eccentric fortune-teller I told Owen she isn’t, and my stomach has a lead weight in it.

  “Of course.” Aiden exhales a bitter laugh. “You just take money from desperate people and claim to predict their futures.”

  “That is not what I do.” Her hazel eyes flash.

  “I don’t care what you do. I want to know what you know about Gary Blue.”

  Mom exhales, opening the door. She walks up the hall to her kitchen, and Aiden walks straight inside after her. I rub my hand over the pain in my stomach and follow them to where my mom takes down a coffee mug and pours herself a cup.

  “Britt, would you like a cup of coffee?” Her voice is clear, confident, and I’m terrified of what she’s about to say.

  As usual.

  “No, thank you.” I keep to the perimeter of the room, still hoping I might be able to salvage things with Aiden, as hopeless as it appears.

  “I’d offer you some, Sheriff, but I don’t like you.” Mom turns, walking to her small table. “Have a seat.”

  “I’d rather stand.” Aiden’s expression is stoney, and he clearly doesn’t give a shit about the coffee snub.

  “Suit yourself.” Mom sits, taking a sip of her coffee and beginning, like she’s doing a reading. “Gary Blue assisted an escape artist and magician named Stan Roswell back in the day. He was Stan’s helper, meaning, he was the guy who recruited ladies to sit in the audience and volunteer to be sawed in half. Gary and Stan parted ways years ago. I heard they’d had a falling out, and Gary went off the grid. I was one of a very few who knew how to reach him. When the petty crimes started, and Britt told me about the prosthetic leg, I went to find him. Gary didn’t commit those petty crimes. He didn’t break into my house. I have an idea who did, but I wouldn’t expect a Stone to understand or administer justice.”

  “When was this alleged break-in?”

  “Wednesday, and it is not alleged. My daughter and her hound were here checking out the scene. Birgitte can verify it.”

  Aiden inhales deeply, crossing his arms, and I feel dizzy. He still won’t look at me.

  “Where is Stan Roswell now?”

  “If I knew that, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  My mother slaps her hand on the table and stands. “Stan Roswell is behind all of this. He probably killed Gary, and I’m more convinced than ever he killed Lars. I don’t know what he’s after, but you should stop wasting time with me and start searching for the real criminal.”

  Aiden lowers his arms, but the fury hasn’t left his features. “I’m not putting you under arrest, but you are definitely a person of interest. Don’t leave town.”

  I’m right behind him. He has to take me with him. We have to talk.

  Mom calls after us, “Don’t blow another murder, Sheriff Stone. If your father had investigated my husband’s death thoroughly, Gary Blue might still be alive.”

  Aiden turns on his heel at the door, eyes blazing past me. “If you’d come to me when all this started instead of sneaking around, Gary Blue might still be alive.”

  With that, he turns and slams the door. I grab the handle, pulling it open and running after him.

  “Aiden, wait.” My voice is breathless. “Please.”

  His truck door is open when he stops, and I blink fast to keep the tears out of my eyes. This hurts so badly.

  “You lied to me.” It’s a flat accusation.

  “No! It wasn’t like that!” I reach out to put my hand on his arm, but I stop, pulling it back and crossing my arms over my waist. “I told her I was going to tell you. I was on my way to tell you, but she begged me to give her time. I know, it sounds bad, but she said it was connected to my dad… She said she would give us the suspect, and I thought if it would help us—”

  “So you chose your mother over telling me the truth.” His voice is so angry, my chin drops in defeat. “Did your mother kill Gary?”

  “No!” I shake my head. “She would never do something like that. She’s odd, but she’s not a killer.”

  “How do you know?” His jaw tightens, and when his stormy eyes finally meet mine, I see pain there. It slices me in two. “Why should I believe you? I thought you were different from them, but you’re not.”

  “I am!”

  “When it suits your purpose.”

  “That’s not true. She’s my mother, and I wanted to give her a chance. She said…” I can’t even say it.

  She won’t put dad’s death behind her, and neither will I.

  Exhaling slowly, he looks into his truck. “I lived with a woman who lied to me for six years. I’m not doing it again.”

  “Aiden, please.” My chest collapses as I watch him climb into the cab. “Don’t go.”

  “I can’t see you anymore.” He slams the door and starts the engine.

  Trembling hands cover my mouth as he backs out of the driveway without another word. My legs weaken, and I lower to my knees watching his tail lights disappear. Red dots turn to red smudges as the tears flood my eyes, as the water rises past my neck.

  I’m right where I started, in a straitjacket and drowning.

  CHAPTER 23

  AIDEN

  “I can’t work with her, Edna. She withheld critical information about the case, which resulted in a man’s death.” It’s Monday morning, and I’m sitting across from the mayor in her office with the door shut.

  I spent the rest of yesterday chopping wood in the backyard, cleaning limbs off the top of the house, mowing the lawn with the old push mower, basically anything I could do to burn the anger, the frustration, the ache out of my body.

  It wasn’t only in my chest this time, it was everywhere. It was in my hands that had touched her, my lips that had tasted her beautiful skin, my ears that wouldn’t stop hearing her broken voice begging me, Don’t leave…

  Adam brought Owen home from the beach with Edward, and he took one look at my face and offered to return the dog to Britt. I managed to hold it together as I listened to my son tell me all about his fun day with “the best dog ever” at the beach.

  I did my best not to show that it was like nails driving into my chest hearing his little-boy voice so happy and in love with another woman who ripped my trust to shreds.

  Then, when he finally went to sleep, I polished off the rest of the Stone Cold single barrel I’d been keeping in the cabinet.

  Now my head is pounding, and my anger is back full-force, and the last thing I want to see is a bright little blonde with a sexy little backside and a sunshine face who says I’m safe with her that she’s different, when in reality she’s just like them.

  “Aiden, I know you’re emotional.” Edna leans back in her chair, folding her hands. “But we don’t know enough about the case to make a causal connection.”

  Of course, her grandmother would take Britt’s side.

  “Don’t patronize me, Edna.” Ice is in my tone, and I’m done playing nice. “I want her off my team.”

  “You need to remember your place, Sheriff.” Edna’s steely gaze clashes with mine. “I’m the mayor. I signed Birgitte’s contract. We have a dead body on our hands, and we need to find out who did it. She can work with Doug and report to me.”

  Frustration climbs up my shoulders. I know the chain of command. Edna is my boss, even though she’s elected and I’m not. Still, she’s the CEO of the town, and I’m her first in command. Can’t change the facts.

  “Fine.” My jaw is set, and I stand. “I’ll keep you informed of developments in the case, and I’ll converse with Doug about what I need done.”

  I snatch the door open and stride out into the office area, keeping my eyes away from the corner where her desk is located. Doug, as usual, is hanging around Holly’s desk laughing and eating a donut.

  “Doug.” My voice is clipped, and he hops to attention, hustling over to where I’m standing.

  “Morning, Boss.” Doug has that permanent smile on his face. “What can I do you for today?”

  “You’re working with Britt now. I want you to take her to Gary Blue’s place and process the scene. Take the dog, and see if he picks up any scents.”

  “Yes, sir.” He polishes off his donut and wipes his hands with the paper napkin.

  I’m headed back to the fairground to see what I can find in the corn maze. In the meantime, we’re waiting on ballistics. Pausing at the back hall, my eyes are drawn to Britt at her desk, collecting her camera and supplies.