Page 17 of Sinister Secrets
“I’m serious. Things move slower here than what you’re used to. People need time to process. Don’t pursue this until I say otherwise.”
The anger that’s been slowly simmering inside me rises to a boil, sending me to my feet. Kingston’s eyes narrow, one finger raising to point at me like I’m a dog about to misbehave. There’s no way I’m letting this man, who’s always treated me like a flea-bitten stray, treat me like a pet under his control. The door opening behind me is the only thing that keeps me from launching an attack.
“I thought that was your car I saw in the lot.”
The creeping feeling is back on my skin, only this time, I know I’m not imagining it. I straighten up, quickly turning sideways. Just as I’d expected, Matt Kingston’s gaze is still glued to where my backside was only seconds before. Slowly, his eyes rake up my body until they meet mine.
Sheriff Kingston clears his throat. “Is that my coffee?”
“Yeah, Peggy asked me to bring it to you.” Matt sets the travel mug he’s carrying on the corner of the desk without looking, almost missing his target. “It’s great seeing you, Cass. How about a hug?”
My jaw tightens so hard the joint pops as I take a giant step backward, away from my high school boyfriend.
“Aw, come on, don’t be that way.”
“Now’s not the best time. We’re busy here, son.”
Matt’s attention briefly flits to his dad. “Doing what?” There’s a familiar note of suspicion to his tone, the same one I used to hear whenever I didn’t answer the phone on the first ring. Went to a friend’s house. Talked to another guy.
But I’m a grown woman now. I’m not afraid of him—or his father—anymore. In fact, now that the playing field has been leveled, I can’t help wanting to poke the bear a bit.
“That’s private, isn’t it, Sheriff?” I say, wrapping my right arm across my body. Propping my left elbow in my palm, I rest my hand against my chin, giving Matt a good look at the ring on my finger. His nostrils flare when he spots it. His expression as he takes a step closer to me is pure menace.
“Murder investigations don’t stay quiet around here long. The whole town’s gonna find out soon enough, I don’t suspect there’s a reason to keep it secret. Did you know a man named Gordon Massey?”
Both Matt’s head and mine swivel in his father’s direction. Mine because I can’t believe the sheriff is going to tell his son before informing the victim’s mother and completing a formal ID. But what’s up with Matt’s reaction?
He gulps hard, glances at me quickly before he says, “We went to school together, but we weren’t friends.”
If the sheriff notices the way his only child’s body just went slack, the blood draining from Matt’s face like water disappearing down a tub drain, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he turns his focus to me and says, “You should leave before you cause any more trouble.”
I gladly take the chance to escape while I have it, hurrying out the door. As I glance over my shoulder to close it behind me, I’m surprised to find the two men leaning across opposite sides of the desk, heads close to each other, appearing deep in conversation. Though neither notices my attention, their hushed whispers chase me long after I’ve left the building. Something strange just happened, and whatever it was, it feels dangerous.
CHAPTER 11
Adrenaline hums in my veins as I pull into Lucy Cypress’s driveway, parking behind an old Subaru that’s seen better days. I glance next door, to the house that Lucy grew up in, wondering if she had tried buying her old home back. If she missed Gator Glade—missed me—as much as I missed her. If she wants to seize this opportunity to rekindle our friendship as much as I do.
Anticipation has me out of the car before I can think twice about what I’m doing. Excitement hurries me up the walk, past a tricycle covered in faded dinosaur stickers and a floppy, blue stuffed dog peeking out of an empty flowerpot.
The high-pitched voices of cartoon characters carry through the door as I knock. After a minute, thinking that the TV is up too loud to be heard, I try again, louder this time, batting a mosquito away from my ear as the humidity zaps the last of the chill remaining from the car’s AC from my skin, replacing it with the prickle of sweat.
Maybe I shouldn’t be here. Not because of Sheriff Kingston. He told me to stay away from town. He didn’t say anything about questioning Lucy and her son. But because it’s possible that my old friend isn’t looking forward to seeing me and catching up as much as I am with her. And who could blame her? I’ve made up my mind to retreat, have already made it halfway back to my car, when I hear the door open behind me.
“Cassidy?”
Turning, I give the woman before me a bright smile, though I feel it dim a little as I take in her harried appearance. Dark circles ring her eyes. Her skin is sallow, her braid unkempt, the hair that’s escaped limp and dull. But something inside her seems to loosen as she beckons me eagerly toward the house.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if I heard the door or not. Jeffery was in the bathroom.” Her cheeks flush as she adds, “He’s a reluctant potty trainer.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt. I can come back—”
“No!” I wince as her voice cracks out louder than I’ve ever heard her speak before. It’s regained its soft, musical cadence as she says, “Please, stay. I’m glad you’re here.”
Her cool hand wraps around my arm, tugging me into an entryway filled with boxes. “Excuse the mess. I really should have finished unpacking by now.”
“I can’t judge. My place looks the same.”
She gives me a curious look. “How long have you been back?”
