Chapter 9
By two p.m., Lexie was sweating, and her ponytail felt too tight. Her fingers were starting to ache from the weight of carrying multiple plates to multiple tables throughout the lunchtime rush, so it was a relief to see the clock strike closing time—at least for the kitchen.
Rusty’s was almost always busy, but the beginning of tourist season was a crazy time, and she thought it both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because the earning potential from May to October was insane. A curse because she was often too exhausted from working so much to enjoy everything—the heat, the sunshine, the ocean—that drew flocks of people here in the first place.
Moving in a circular pattern around the room, Lexie began clearing tables. She was fast and meticulous, so it didn’t take long to have the place clean, tidy, and ready for the dinner rush later. She was about to ask Wade if she could take her ten-minute break when a familiar face walked through the front door.
Darcy looked terrible. Her usually made-up face was pale and drawn. Her green dress was crumpled, hanging from her too-skinny shoulders like a potato sack, and her eyes held equal parts of fear and sorrow as they sought out Lexie’s from the sunlit threshold. When their gazes met, Lexie’s heart skittered.
She cleared her throat. “Uh, Wade? I’m gonna need a minute.”
At her tone, Wade looked up, then followed her line of sight to the skeletal silhouette of her former friend, who appeared to be waiting for an invitation to come inside.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Is that Darcy Walsh?”
“Mm-hmm.”
After steeling herself with a deep breath, Lexie greeted Darcy with the polite, awkward air of a long-soured relationship in which neither party could accurately remember the specifics of their parting. Then she led her to the back alley where Darcy took a seat in one of the plastic chairs they kept out here for staff.
She didn’t speak right away, just dug around her purse for a pack of cigarettes, then proceeded to light one with shaking hands. After a long drag, she looked up at Lexie.
“You look good. How long has it been?”
“A while.” Lexie folded and unfolded her arms, put her hands in her pockets, and took them out again. The toe of her boot began incessantly digging around the loose stones at her feet. Eventually, she sat in the chair next to Darcy’s because it was the only thing that made her feel less fidgety. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “About Isabelle.”
“We were going to get out of here next winter,” Darcy replied, smoke wafting around her on a sad laugh. “Go someplace tropical and warm. Get tanned. Find jobs. Have an adventure.”
Lexie’s smile was sympathetic. “That sounds nice.”
“Yeah.” They fell into an uncomfortable silence, until Darcy hesitantly said, “I’m sorry I didn’t go to your dad’s funeral.” She stomped her cigarette out. “Just wasn’t sure you’d want me there.”
It had been almost two years, but still the thought of her father brought tears welling up to Lexie’s eyes and she had to make a conscious effort to pull herself together. “It’s okay,” she said.
“All this”—Darcy gestured to nothing in particular—“has got me thinking of old times, you know?”
Feeling a wave of discomfort and denial wash over her, Lexie leaned ever so slightly away.
“You remember how much fun we used to have?” Darcy asked. “How much trouble we all used to get into?” She laughed again, then started to sob.
Lexie couldn’t stand it. Shifting her chair closer, she put her arms around Darcy and gave her as much comfort as she could—which wasn’t much. She shushed and stroked her hair and told her it would all be okay. Eventually, the crying stopped, and the two of them sat quietly while Darcy’s breathing returned to normal.
“Do you ever think about Sara?” she asked suddenly.
Lexie tensed, swallowed. “Sometimes.”
“Do you ever think maybe it’s our fault, what happened to her?”
This time, Lexie’s answer came slower, but it was firm. “No.”
Darcy pulled herself free of Lexie’s embrace to regard her. “Never?”
Lexie sighed. “Sara hated her life here. She wanted out. She would have run away on her own eventually.”
“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?”
Lexie felt it then. The guilt that squatted in the distant corners of her mind stirred and looked up, like it knew it was feeding time.
“We were the ones who put the idea in her head, weren’t we?” Darcy said. “We’re the ones who took her to the mainland. She came to that party with us.”
“It’s not like we forced her to go,” Lexie said. “And it was only supposed to be for the night. She’s the one who decided not to come back. We begged her to get in the car, but she wouldn’t. What else were we supposed to do?”
“We could have tried harder.”
Lexie stood and paced away before coming back around. “What are you doing here, Darcy? What do you want?”
Darcy searched her face. “You remember how she died?”
“Of course I remember,” Lexie snapped.
“Right. So . . . ”
“So what?”
“Stop playing dumb, Lex. I know you’ve thought about it, same as me.”
Lexie chewed her lip and studied the ground. “Just because Sara was stabbed to death—”
“And now Isabelle.”
“Come on, Darcy.”
“It’s weird.” She stood and looked around as if scared they might be overheard. “What if . . . What if the same person who killed Sara also killed Isabelle? What if we’re next? I mean, what if I’m next?”
“What are you talking about? They caught the guy who killed Sara. He went to prison. You know that.”
“Do I?” she challenged. “I mean, that’s what we heard, but we don’t know anything for sure. And what if they caught the wrong guy? What if whoever did it is here now? What if he knows who I am? What if—”
“Honey, you’re in shock.” Lexie infused as much patience into her words as she could. “You’re spiraling. Sara was killed a long time ago, a million miles from here.”
“Two hundred and ninety-four.”
Lexie frowned. “Did you seriously look that up?” Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Darcy’s shoulders. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not real. And it’s not healthy. You need to stop this. Okay?”
Darcy’s body—racked with shudders—felt fragile under Lexie’s grasp. Brittle.
“Fine.” She retreated a few steps toward the street. “But answer me this, Lex; if this has nothing to do with us, why aren’t you more surprised to see me, huh?”
Lexie said nothing.
Darcy gave her a knowing look before she turned and skulked away.
For well over two hours, Nico had bounced up and down on the passenger seat of the police cruiser as they made their way up the muddy mountain road. Seth drove while Nico took note of their route and tried not to think about the mess they were undoubtedly making of the undercarriage. Frank stretched out and took a nap in the back. They’d already made at least half a dozen different turns, the road becoming less road-like with each one. The twin tire tracks they were currently following were almost completely overgrown with moss and grass.
“You sure you know where you’re going?” Nico asked.
Seth grinned. “Don’t sweat it, Lieutenant. I’ll get us there.”
“Christ, how long has it been since these roads were used?”
“A long time. Once upon a time these roads were the lifeblood of Mercy Cove. There was no other way to reach the bridge to the mainland. Eventually they saw fit to bypass the mountains with the new highway along the south side of the island. Good thing too. From what I hear, you’d be taking your life in your hands if you crossed a logging truck up here.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Nico grimaced as his ass bounced a good inch off the seat. He glanced at Frank’s snoozing face and shook his head. “I don’t know how he does that.”
“I guess if you’re tired enough, you can sleep anywhere.”
“So, what’s your story?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Nico said, grabbing hold of the dash as they took a hairy turn. “Why did the chief send you? It’s obvious you’re not exactly thrilled to be here. What’s the deal?”
Seth shrugged. “I know my way around these parts. Guess he wanted to send someone who wasn’t likely to need a search party sent after them.”
“That all there is to it?”
Silence.
“What’s your association with this Logan?” Nico pushed.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“About as many as you evade.”
Seth sighed.
Nico waited.
“They’re not bad people,” Seth finally said. “Not all of them, anyway. They keep to themselves and most of them have no interest in causing trouble. Just want to be left alone. But there are some . . .”
“Like Logan?”
“Hayes.”
“What?”
“His name is Logan Hayes.”
“Wait—as in—”
“My brother.”
“Seriously?” Nico gawked. “The possible suspect we’re about to shake down is your brother?”
Seth’s face hardened. “We share blood. That’s all.”
Nico sat back, contemplating. “That’s why he’ll talk to you and no one else.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I haven’t seen him in years.”
Why not?
The question danced on the tip of Nico’s tongue—along with several others—but he decided not to ask. Not yet.
After another few minutes of rough terrain and barely-there tracks carved out in the brush, Nico broke the awkward silence. “You weren’t kidding about them liking their privacy.”
“We’re almost there.”
As if on cue, the dense mass of trees gave way to a clearing. Seth slowed to a stop with plenty of room between them and a cluster of moisture-laden log cabins, each one puffing white smoke from its chimney. The rusted Chevy they were searching for was parked out front of one. On closer inspection, Nico noticed a dark, red-tinged liquid smeared on the tailgate. No sign of any other vehicles. No people. And no sunlight. Even the lack of canopy above couldn’t compete with the thick layer of cloud that seemed to envelope the whole mountain in it’s cold embrace.
Frank stirred, sitting up with a groan. “What’d I miss?” As he took in the new surroundings, he let loose an astonished breath. “Jesus, how long was I out? Where the hell are we?”
“Not in Kansas anymore.” Nico searched for any sign of life. It was a whole other world up here, and he had a bad feeling about it.
“Just keep your hands where they can see them,” Seth said, opening his door and stepping out.
Nico chewed his lip. “Right.”
The three of them exited the cruiser with deliberate slowness. Seth took the lead, Frank and Nico taking flank positions on the off chance that their hosts were indeed—as West had put it—less than welcoming.
“Mercy Cove Police Department!” Seth called out, voice echoing through the seemingly deserted space.
“Well, this is eerie as fuck,” Frank grumbled.
“Where are they?” Nico asked.
Seth raised his hands away from his sides, moving steadily forward. “They’re here.”
Somewhere in the distance, a gun cocked, the sound distinct and loud in the silence. Both Nico and Frank’s hands flew to their hip holsters.
“No! Don’t,” Seth warned.
“Are you out of your mind?” Nico hissed.
“They’re not going to shoot us. They’re just showing us who’s boss.”
Nobody had a chance to argue as just then a taunting whistle rang out, along with the words, “Well, I’ll be damned. Is that you, baby brother?”
Following the sound, Nico’s eyes landed on a figure moving out of the tree line and into their view. Colin had described Logan as a “bad boy.” In Nico’s mind, that put him around the same age as Isabelle, maybe some leather-jacket-wearing, drives-too-fast-on-his-motorcycle, gangster-rap-blaring punk. But as Seth’s brother meandered toward them, Nico’s brain was forced to rapidly reassess his expectations. This was no boy. This was a man. Fully grown and built like an ox, one arm casually dangled a shotgun while his flat gray eyes swept over the three of them with distrust. No wonder the Moss’s were against the relationship. If he had a young daughter, he wouldn’t want her anywhere near this guy. Nico also noted his knuckles were covered in the telltale blood and bruises of a recent fight.
“Logan,” was all Seth said by way of a greeting.
“Look at you all grown up.” Logan snickered. “Cute uniform. Hey, boys! Get out here and look at this.”
More figures appeared—eight or so—shuffling away from the cover of the cabins, out of the shadows like timid rats. Nico didn’t know how long they’d all lived up here—didn’t want to—but the way they moved, so wary and alert, made them seem more like wild animals than men.
“You remember Bobby, right? Joe? Will? Old Gunner’s around here somewhere too.”
Seth nodded to the rough semicircle of mountain men. “Hey, fellas. Long time.”
None of them so much as acknowledged his hello, just continued chewing whatever was in their mouths—Nico knew better than to think it was gum—and staring coldly.
Logan tilted his head. “Look at what little Sethy’s made of himself, would you, boys? A real-life officer of the law.”
Seth’s jaw clenched as he made a discernible effort not to let his feathers get ruffled.
“So, what’s it like on the other side, bro? Hope it was worth abandoning your family to become such an upstanding citizen.”
“I didn’t come to dig up ancient history with you, Logan,” Seth replied.
“No? Then why the fuck are you here?”
Nico kept close watch on the gathering audience, realizing too late that if this turned dicey, they were significantly outnumbered. And outgunned. Hell, most of these burly bastards looked like they could take down a grizzly with their bare hands.
“We need to talk to you. It’s about Isabelle.”
Recognition and surprise dawned for half a second on Logan’s face—along with something vaguely resembling concern—then it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference. “Isabelle . . . who?”
“We know you’re . . . involved with her,” Seth replied, his tone placating. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We need to talk to you. In private. It’s important.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, I see what’s going on here. Some bitch I took to bed is trying to pin me as her baby daddy, looking to squeeze some child support out of me. Am I right?” He shook his head and walked a slow, laughing circle. His companions appeared just as amused, sneering from the sidelines. “That’s why you drove your ass all the way up here? Oh, Sethy, that’s good, really.” He pointed to Nico and Frank. “Nice touch, by the way, bringing the extra muscle. What, were you too afraid to face me on your own?”
Ignoring the crescendo of laughter, Seth tried again. “Please, man, just trust me. This isn’t a conversation you’re going to want to have in front of everyone.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Unlike some of us, I have no secrets from my family. I trust them.” Getting nose to nose with Seth, he added, “It’s you I don’t trust.”
Seth swallowed hard. “Alright. Fine. What were you doing in town two nights ago?”
“None of your damned business.”
“What if we make it our business?” Frank snapped.
Logan’s eyes cut to him. “What the fuck are you gonna do, pig?”
“Oh, that’s original.” Frank rolled his eyes. “Tell you what, how about you tell us what we want to know, and we don’t get an army of cops up here arresting you all for obstruction?”
For a beat, Logan said nothing.
“What the hell are you doing up here?” he growled at Seth, aggression rolling off him in waves. One beefy finger jabbed into Seth’s chest. “You been running your mouth about me again? You trying to bring more heat down on us, is that it? You know as well as I do that shit was shut down years ago. I swear to God, you little worm, if you cause me any trouble—”
“She’s dead,” Seth blurted, stopping the tirade. “Isabelle. She’s dead.”
Logan stepped back, both arms going slack. “What—what the hell are you talking about?”
“She was murdered. And . . .” Seth looked about as guilty as someone who’d run over a kid’s dog as he said, “You’re officially being considered a person of interest.”
Anger returning, Logan’s features morphed into a snarl. “Whatever happened down there, I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. You hear me?”
“All the same, we’re going to need you to come with us.” Nico was bluffing of course, since they didn’t technically have the authority to bring him in, but he had to try something before this got out of hand.
Either Logan knew it, or didn’t care either way, because the look he turned on him was pure venom. “Suck my dick, asshole. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“Logan, please,” Seth said. “I know you didn’t do this, but you’ve got to cooperate to clear your name. This will only get worse for you if you don’t.”
The assembly of men shifted, some clutching their rifles a little tighter, their axes a little higher. Nico had no idea how far they’d go to protect one of their own, but if this didn’t de-escalate—and quick—they might just find out.
“You’re not under arrest,” Nico said, hoping the reassurance might take things down a notch. “Just some routine questions, that’s all, help us figure out what happened.”
In the few seconds since Seth announced Isabelle’s death, Logan’s eyes had gathered enough moisture that Nico wondered if he cared a lot more than he was willing to let on. Confirming his suspicions, he watched as the man appeared to reel it back in, peeking over his shoulder to ensure no one else saw his display of emotion, then planted a cold smile on his face.
“That bitch was nothing to me. Now you and your boys get back in your car and get off my mountain.”
Seth winced. Frank huffed his disbelief.
“You heard him,” Nico said. “Let’s go.”
Frank and Seth backed up a few steps—the latter a picture of disappointment—and retreated to the cruiser.
Nico hesitated. Slowly, he took his wallet out of his back pocket and removed a card. “This isn’t over, Logan. If you decide you want to help yourself”—he let the card drop to the ground between them, knowing he would never take it with so many eyes on him—“you know where to find me.”
Once back in the relative safety of the car, Nico waited until they were well on their way before asking, “You guys see what I saw?”
“You mean the blood on the truck?” Frank replied. “Hard to miss.”
“I don’t think he did it,” Seth said stiffly.
“I’m starting to doubt that myself,” Nico told him. If he was guilty of murder, why leave such blatant evidence? “But we can’t abandon a lead on a gut feeling alone.”
“They hunt their own food up here.” Seth said. “That blood could have come from anywhere.”
“Only one way to find out for sure,” Nico replied. “We need a sample.”
“Those are some brass balls you’ve got there, Lieutenant,” Frank remarked. “Tell you what, I’ll wait here and guard the truck while you guys go back and get it.”
One look in the back seat told Nico the man wasn’t kidding. He shook his head. “You’re such a pussy.”