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I asked, letting my words bite, not caring if he felt my hostility in them. ” When I saw the softness in his gaze, I knew he hadn’t wanted to ask me that question, but I also realized that he didn’t have any choice, either. ” Millie brought him his coffee as I said, “No, we were just two friends going out together for a meal. There was nothing happening between us, at least not romantically. What about the guy who was stalking her a few months ago? ” Millie hesitated at the table and frowned at Morton— no doubt hovering nearby to offer me her support—when the sheriff said, “As of ten minutes ago he was.
Poor Becka. What had led her to this? I hadn’t seen her in nearly a month, but I still felt as though she were a part of my life. We’d gone from dating to animosity to friendship, and I was going to miss not having her around. She had become a presence in my life, and her death was going to leave a hole that might never be filled. In my mind, I could suddenly hear the essence of her laughter and feel the soft tenderness in her touch as I stared down at her. I did my best to choke back my emotions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Dedication To Emily, For Scrabble, road trips, Mythbusters, and white trucks everywhere! ” —James Russell Lowell Chapter 1 As my kayak brushed against the woman’s body, I thought I’d hit another half-submerged log. The Gunpowder River was full of all kinds of debris, washed there from the banks in the heavy rains that had assaulted us over the past two weeks.