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“At seven thirty in the morning?”
She strolled into the kitchen and Tippy stopped midlick, ready for the petting she knew would be forthcoming. Amber had halfheartedly tried to train her but had given up. That was one of the joys of living alone. There was no one to tell her cats don’t belong on the table. Or that five was too many.
“I have to be at work later this morning. But I’ve got friends coming for pizza and movies tonight, and my TV croaked.”
“How about meeting me for breakfast?”
Was he asking her out? She eyed the green concoction waiting in the blender on the kitchen counter: her breakfast smoothie. “I’ve already got it made.”
“Coffee then? We need to talk.”
The seriousness in his tone killed the possibility the call was anything but professional. An irrational twinge of disappointment passed through her. “Is everything all right?”
“There are some things you need to know.”
Her stomach tightened. “Where do you want to meet?”
“Huddle House in Chiefland.”
“Give me forty minutes.” Date or not, she wasn’t meeting him in a ponytail and Spandex. After pouring her drink into a quart-size Mason jar, she hurried down the hall to change into a pair of jeans and a scoop-neck T-shirt. By the time she’d finished, the jar was empty.
When she arrived at Huddle House, Caleb was inside. She took a seat opposite him.
“I already ordered. I hope you don’t mind. Since I came from the station, I haven’t eaten.”
The waitress approached with a plate of eggs, pancakes and hash browns and placed it in front of him. After bringing Amber a cup of steaming water and a tea bag, she left them alone.
Amber started the tea steeping. “What did you learn?”
“We don’t have anything back from the lab yet, but I uncovered some disturbing things about Ramona Freeborn’s death.” Beneath the sandy-blond hair, his brows were drawn together, and concern had settled in his eyes.
She frowned. “I’m guessing Mona didn’t have cancer.”
“I don’t know, but I can tell you that’s not how she died.”
A vise clamped down on her chest. “Murder?”
“She was taken into the woods and beaten to death with a baseball bat.”
Amber cringed at the mental image his words evoked. “Any idea who did it or why?”
“No. The case is still unsolved. But the killer left a piece of paper.”
The vise squeezed harder. “Like what the five of us received at the reunion.”
He pulled a page from the manila folder lying on the table and handed it to her. “I’ve written out all the messages and put them together.”
After a brief moment she snapped her gaze to his face. “It’s a poem.” She hadn’t recognized it before. Of course, she hadn’t seen half the lines.
Caleb took a bite of eggs before pointing with his fork. “Ramona’s line is the last one.”
She nodded and, as she silently read, something cold and dark settled over her.
The day is sunny and skies are blue.
All of life’s pleasures surround you.
Once you were bound, but now you’re free.
The kids all adore you, their referee.
A sworn public servant, you’ve answered the call.
But one by one, justice will find you all.
When she met Caleb’s eyes, he was studying her. “Any idea why somebody wants you guys dead?”
She swirled the tea bag in the mug and watched the liquid darken. She had an idea. It just didn’t make any sense.
Caleb’s gaze bore into her.
Finally she released a long breath. “Logan Cleary has always blamed us for his brother’s death.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t have anything to do with it.” Her hands tightened around her mug. “I invited him to join us. Then I got sick and Liv took me home.” The words came out more defensive than she’d intended and she softened her tone. “Landon never showed. But Logan has always blamed me. I don’t know whether he thinks we hurt Landon, but he holds me accountable for inviting him in the first place.”
She held herself accountable, too. Had for the past ten years. She just tried not to think about it. That was one reason she’d severed ties with all her old friends.
She sighed. “But why act now? I mean, it’s been ten years.”
“Logan has spent most of that time in the Army, so he’s been gone. He got out a few months ago.”
Yeah, that was what she’d heard. She’d run into him during one of his leaves. His animosity toward her was as strong as it had been right after Landon’s murder. And judging from the glares he’d given her at the reunion, it hadn’t faded.
Caleb poured syrup over his pancakes, the eggs and hash browns now gone. “What can you tell me about Landon’s last day alive?”
“Same thing I told the police ten years ago. It was Sunday, two days after graduation. He’d asked me out at the commencement ceremony, and we’d made plans for dinner and a movie Monday night. Sunday he texted me and asked what I was doing. I told him I was going out later and partying with friends.”
“How late?”
“Late. After Mom and Dad went to bed.” She didn’t have to tell him she’d been sneaking out. He knew. She could see the condemnation in his eyes. Or maybe her guilt was putting the condemnation there. That was something else she avoided thinking about, how her bad choices had affected her parents, especially her father.
“So you slipped out of the house after they went to bed.”
The words sounded even worse coming out of Caleb’s mouth. He’d probably never caused his parents a moment’s grief.
“What happened then?”
“I climbed out my bedroom window and Liv picked me up down the street. We went to the woods where Mona and the guys were. Raymond had raided his dad’s liquor cabinet, like always. I don’t remember what we were drinking, but we all got pretty wasted.”
“Then you got sick.”
She nodded. That had been a regular occurrence, too, drinking till she’d made herself sick. But she hadn’t touched the stuff since that night. First Landon’s death, then her father’s heart attack—two life-changing events in the span of a week had scared her straight.
“After Liv dropped me off, she went home. The guys and Ramona said they left shortly after we did. No one saw Landon.”
“You didn’t let him know you were no longer at the party?”
A wave of guilt crashed down on her. “I didn’t think about it.” Or maybe she had, somewhere between bouts of throwing up. But the thought hadn’t stayed in her pickled brain long enough to act on it.
“Anything else you can tell me?”
She shook her head, trying to tamp down another pang of guilt. There was something else, but it wasn’t connected to Landon’s murder. Not technically. If she brought it up now, the police would think they had something to hide. And they didn’t.
Caleb washed his last bite of pancake down with coffee. “Alex’s death is suspicious, but with Ramona, there’s no doubt. She was murdered. The last line of the poem proves it wasn’t random. This is someone’s warped idea of justice.”
She nodded and Caleb continued. “Frank Mason’s the lead detective on the case. He’s bringing the others up to speed, cautioning them about the danger. I told him I’d talk to you. But I’d like to meet with all of you and see if you can come up with some possible suspects. Logan is the most obvious. But it could be someone who’d been close to Landon.”
“I’ll get hold of them.” They’d all exchanged numbers before leaving the reunion.
The waitress brought the checks and he claimed both of them. After he’d finished paying, he walked her to her vehicle. “I guess you’re off to Walmart.”
“And you’re headed to bed.”
“Not yet. Church first. I teach a preteen Sunday school class.”
After bidding him farewell, she climbed into the driver’s seat. He was going to church. To teach Sunday school. He hadn’t become a preacher.
But he was still way out of her league.
* * *
Amber wheeled her cart into the midmorning sunshine, a large, flat box protruding from the top at an angle. She’d gone with a forty-inch. Anything bigger wouldn’t have fit on the shelf in her entertainment center.
As she moved down the center lane, she glanced around, an uneasy caution tightening her shoulders. The same uneasiness had plagued her since her meeting with Caleb. Mona was dead, brutally murdered. Alex’s death probably wasn’t an accident, either. Based on the poem, the rest of them were all marked. The question was, “Who’s next?”
She dragged in a shaky breath and pressed her key fob. Several spaces away, the lights on her RAV4 flashed and the security system beeped. Soon she’d be loaded up and locked safely inside. From now on, she wouldn’t go anywhere without her weapon, whether on duty or not.
After sliding the box into the back of her vehicle, she straightened to shut the door. Her heart stuttered. Logan Cleary stood at the driver’s-side front quarter panel, arms crossed.
“Hello, Amber.” He pushed her name off his tongue as if it were something distasteful, then moved toward her, blocking her path to the door.
Her pulse raced and moisture coated her palms. She squared her shoulders. Whether she was armed or not, he’d have to be stupid to try accosting her at Walmart in broad daylight.
“What do you want, Logan?”
“I want a lot of things. A filet mignon dinner. Tickets to the Super Bowl.” He rested a shoulder against her vehicle. “Justice.”
“I’m sorry about Landon, but I had nothing to do with that.”
“You can’t deny those texts.”
“I invited him to hang out with us.”
“You lured him there, and your friends beat him up. What happened? Did a dare go bad? Did he cross one of you?”
“Logan, go home, or I’ll call for security.” She’d tried to talk to him shortly after Landon was killed. But he hadn’t wanted to hear it. Ten years later, he still wasn’t listening.
He pushed himself away from her vehicle. “I’ll leave you alone for now. But know this. What goes around comes around. Sometimes it takes a while, but eventually karma has her way.” He pivoted to walk away. “Two down, four to go.” Though his back was turned, the words reached her, chilling her all the way to the core.
“Is that a confession?”
He hesitated, stiffening. When he turned around, the tension was gone. The usual cockiness emanated from him. “There’s nothing for me to confess. But someone’s making sure you guys pay for what you did. I’m just waiting for it to happen.”
She climbed into her SUV but didn’t pull from the space. Two down, four to go. It hadn’t taken Logan long to realize he’d said too much. Was he taking vengeance for his brother’s death or was he waiting for someone else to do it, as he’d claimed?
She watched him cross the lot and get into a red pickup. After he drove away, she shifted her vehicle into Reverse. Landon’s death had been tragic. Whatever he’d done, he hadn’t deserved to die in the way he had. No doubt his murder had left a hole in the lives of those who loved him. A hole his twin brother would feel for the rest of his life. And she’d unwittingly played a part, however small.
The fact that she hadn’t intended Landon harm didn’t matter to Logan. He’d charged, tried and convicted her.
All over a few innocent texts.
* * *
Caleb approached the double glass doors leading into the Gathering Table, a file folder tucked under one arm. According to the text Amber had sent him, she was already inside, along with Vincent and Raymond. Olivia hadn’t arrived yet.
He stepped into the popular restaurant and scanned the large room. It wasn’t crowded. Midafternoon on a Monday, it was too late for the lunch crowd but too early for the dinner crowd.
Meeting for a meal wasn’t the usual way he conducted interviews. But these weren’t typical witnesses. They were former classmates, although more acquaintances than friends. He had a dual purpose in bringing them together: to reiterate what he’d learned about Ramona and the danger they were in, and to find out what they’d done to make themselves targets. The latter was more likely to happen in the relaxed setting of the restaurant than in an interrogation room at the station.
As he made his way toward a double table at one edge of the room, Amber held up a hand and waved. He claimed the empty chair next to her and she flashed him a friendly smile.
“You know Ray and Vince. This is Vince’s wife, Jessica.”
He extended a hand across the table. When Amber had called him to finalize plans for their meeting, she’d told him Vince’s wife would be with him. It was probably for the best. She could be in as much danger as her husband.
The glass door swung open and Olivia stepped inside. She gave an enthusiastic wave before moving toward them, shoulders back and head high. But there was tension in her features and a stiffness in her gait. The stress was wearing on her already.
She plopped into the chair next to Raymond. “Sorry I’m late. I probably had the shortest drive of any of you, and I’m the last one here. Go figure.”
They’d decided on Chiefland as the place to meet, not because Caleb lived there, but because it was the most centralized. Raymond lived thirty-five minutes south, in the small town of Inglis, and Liv was only fifteen minutes west in Bronson. Amber, of course, came from Cedar Key, also a thirty-five-minute drive.
Vincent Mahoney was the only one who’d moved away from Levy County permanently. But since he and his wife had met a customer in Chiefland earlier, the location had been convenient for them, also.
After bringing drinks, the waitress left with their order of appetizers to share.
Vincent grinned at Amber. “I was hoping for some peanut butter cookies, but they weren’t on the menu.”
