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Teenagers and adults playing volleyball spilled across the yard suffering from the drought. On the right side of Rod and Sheila

McShea’s house, smaller children played in a sandbox next to a swing set. Blake stayed close to Paradise as they walked toward

the group of adults gathered around the smoker and grill. A lavish spread of food covered a long folding table, and outdoor

chairs sat ready for use. The smoker vied with the scent of fresh-cut grass for dominance.

“Steady,” he whispered to her as they approached. “Just smile and stay close. I can start the conversation until you feel

more comfortable.”

The scent of her hair, that sweet plumeria fragrance, made him want to move closer, but he checked the impulse. She was skittish

enough without him making her feel cornered. His fingers on her elbow guided her toward Rod. Some chatter about the incidents

at the refuge might help put her at ease. If there was one thing Paradise hated, it was conversations that got too personal.

She’d been that way as long as he’d known her.

He’d known the McShea family all his life. Small-town life was like that. He lifted his hand in greeting when Rod spotted him.

Rod glanced from him to Paradise and his eyes widened. “Paradise.” He put down the tongs and wiped his hands on the towel

hanging from his belt before heading to greet them. He enfolded her in a bear hug. “What’s it been? Fifteen years? You’re

as pretty as ever.”

Yearning glinted in her eyes. “Something like that.” She stepped back and moved closer to Blake. “You look great, Rod.”

“Thanks.” He turned and gestured. “You could mosey over and say hi to Mom. She’s here somewhere.”

Paradise’s smile slipped a little. “I’m sure I’ll run into her shortly. I think Blake wanted to talk to you, and I’ll hang

around for now.”

Blake recognized his cue to steer the conversation away from the personal family direction it had taken. “We were both wondering

if any new evidence has turned up on the shooting or the fire? And do you know yet how Danielle Mason died?” The activist

had been at the top of his concerns.

Rod’s smile vanished, and he was all cop. “We found a little blood evidence in some trees outside the paddock of Dillard Ranch,

probably when she was loaded into the trailer. I’m working through alibis now and trying to find the murder site itself.”

Rod was known for being open with his constituents, and this was the first murder in the area in years. He hadn’t revealed

anything a ranch employee didn’t know as forensics combed over the area.

“And the shooting?”

“I personally talked to the group of activists camping out near the swamp. They claimed they were trying to free the animals, but no one would tell me who had the gun. They admitted they fired the shots though. The sketch you two did of the man was recognized right off, but he was long gone by the time we interviewed everyone. Neither of you could identify the woman, so that was a wash. I told them to leave the area or I’d arrest the whole lot of them. Not that I have anywhere to house that many.” His frown deepened. “But they packed up and headed out of town.”

“What about the Mason woman’s death? One of them might have been responsible,” Paradise put in.

“Maybe. I got addresses and phone numbers from all of them before they skedaddled, and I’ll follow up. I wanted to avert any

further incidents by disbanding them. They seem to be a menace when they’re together.”

Blake supposed they couldn’t stay around forever, and if the department had no evidence, Rod couldn’t order them to stay anyway.

“What did the Dillards have to say about the murder?”

His dad had been friends with old man Dillard years ago, and the older rancher had always been kind to him. And violence from

the family wasn’t something he could envision. His wife, Stacy, had been Blake’s babysitter on occasion when he was growing

up. Still, the ranch employed five hands, some of whom were newcomers to the area.

Rod’s mouth twisted. “About what you’d expect. They had no idea the body was in the trailer with the horse. They didn’t see

it.”

“How could they load the horse and not see it?”

“Dillard said they loaded the animal first and left the trailer unattended for about half an hour. He thinks someone put the

body in during that time.”

The sick horse likely wouldn’t have been any trouble to someone stashing the body in the trailer. “But why put it there where

it would be found right away? I don’t get it.”

“I don’t either,” Rod said. “Maybe whoever killed her wanted to throw suspicion on you. Rumors in a small town can destroy a business.”

Blake knew that only too well. Their earnings were already suffering. “Or it was a threatening gesture to us maybe.”

“Possible.”

“And the fire? Any idea who set it?” Paradise asked.

Rod glanced at her before turning back to his smoker for a moment to check the temperature. “The group at the campsite all

claim it wasn’t them, and I’m inclined to believe them.”

It wasn’t much, but at least Rod didn’t seem to be hiding anything. Blake glanced at Paradise. Should he ask about her parents’

murders? She might not be ready to ask yet.

Her amber eyes darkened with intensity, and she gave him a slight shake of her head before she took a step toward her cousin.

“I’d like to see the evidence gathered from the murder of my parents. I could examine it in a conference room or something

so you don’t have to make copies.”

“Why would you want to do that? There are graphic crime scene photos, girl. Leave it to the professionals.”

“The killer is still out there. The professionals haven’t made any headway. Maybe I’ll remember something.”

“You were nine years old, and the sheriff had a child psychologist talk to you. You didn’t see anything.”

“Maybe I blocked it out.”

His brows drew together. “You remembering something?”

She hesitated and stared down at the grass. “Not yet, but I’d like to try.”

Rod lifted the smoker lid and began to pull meat from it. “I’ll think about it.”

Blake felt the tension radiating off Paradise, and he led her away. “Don’t go ballistic and burn any bridges. Hez is trying to acquire the records, and I made that call to my state police friend. I think we’ll get them.” He nodded toward the group of women watching the children play. “You want some company when you talk to your cousin for the first time?”

She shook her head. “I have to face her sometime. Might as well be now.”

“I’ll hang close. Look my way, and I’ll be there in a flash.”

Her grateful smile warmed him, and he watched her walk across the plush grass toward her cousin. There might be fireworks.

He sensed Paradise’s impatience to get to the truth, but these things often couldn’t be pushed.

***

Paradise walked on lead feet as she went toward the relatives talking in groups by the kids’ sandbox. The thumping of her

heart made her slow to catch her breath. She did not want to be here. Catching up with family who had turned their backs on

her wasn’t her idea of a good time. She forced herself forward and heard the animated voices sputter and stop when the women

realized she was there.

She focused on Rod’s sister’s face. Molly’s willowy frame looked like she could be blown over by a stiff wind, and her hazel

eyes lit when she spotted Paradise. “Paradise Alden, you come here right now. I’ve been dying to see you since Rod said you

were in town.”

Paradise allowed herself to be enfolded in a tight embrace. She’d forgotten how kind Molly had always been to her quiet younger

cousin. “You haven’t changed a bit, Molly. I think Emily was five when I left. Did you have any more?”

Molly released her. “Four of those hoodlums are mine. Emily is twenty now, and the others range from eight to fourteen. The youngest will kill me yet.” She pointed out a gangly towheaded boy playing volleyball with the bigger kids on the other side of the house. She linked arms with Paradise. “Come along and say hi to Mom. She’s in the kitchen taking apple dumplings out of the oven.”

Paradise’s chest squeezed, but she allowed her cousin to drag her into the two-story house and away from any help she might

expect from Blake. “Nice house.”

“Rod had it built three years ago. Sheila loves it, and if she’s happy, everyone is happy.” The acerbic note in Molly’s voice

told of vague disapproval.

Paradise gawked at family pictures lining the entry and sitting on tables as Molly dragged her to the kitchen.

“The kitchen is this way. Mom, Paradise is here,” Molly announced as they crossed from the oak flooring to the kitchen tile.

Paradise pinned a smile to her face. “Hello, Lily.” The years had been kind to her older second cousin, and even in her seventies,

Lily had smooth skin and thick and lustrous salt-and-pepper hair that touched her shoulders. “You’re just as pretty as I remember.”

The sincerity in her voice teased a grin from Lily’s stern expression. “I see you never tamed that hair. Your mother never

tried either. You could have been a model if she’d straightened the lion’s mane.”

Paradise was thankful Lily made no move to embrace her. Hypocrisy had never been something she liked to indulge. “Those apple

dumplings smell great. I remember you made them for Mom for her birthday every year. She loved them.”

Lily’s expression softened even more. “I still miss your mother. We were more like sisters than cousins.”

Paradise’s face felt frozen in place. Lily had rewarded Mom for her kindness by turning her back on her only child. “What do you remember about that night?”

Lily turned briskly toward the oven, and she bent to remove the dumplings. “Let’s remember the good times and not that horrible

night.” The pan clanked on the stove as she set it down.

“I can’t do that, Lily. They’ve never received justice, and the longer it’s denied them, the worse it feels. I can’t sweep

it under the rug and forget it happened.”

Lily banged the pan on the stovetop. “You don’t even remember anything, Paradise. This is your usual melodrama. Life is too

short to stew about things we can’t change. Move on with your life. Get married and have kids. They’ll keep you so busy you’ll

forget all about the sad past.”

Tears burned Paradise’s eyes. She should have known her cousin would dismiss her desire to bring justice to her parents. “I

can’t do that.” She gulped down the angry words that would get her nowhere. Softening her tone, she took a step closer to

Lily. “You were the first person on the scene. What do you remember? Who called you?”

“I don’t like to think about it.”

“Please, Mom,” Molly said. “Can’t you see how important this is to Paradise?”

Lily pressed her lips together and sighed. “Your mother called me a little after eleven that night. She said someone was trying

to break in the back door. I called the sheriff’s office and headed there myself.”

Gerald Davis had been the sheriff at the time. “You found me in the closet.” She remembered that much.

“You were in the far corner rocking back and forth and singing.”

Paradise didn’t remember that detail. “What was I singing?”

“No song I’d ever heard. Something about monsters under the bed and angels watching over you. I always thought you made it up.”

“Where were Mom and Dad?” She’d been too young to ask questions at the time and too distraught and rebellious from the rejection

in her teens.

Lily winced. “Your mom was in your bedroom, and your dad was in the backyard with his pistol. He probably had it because he’d

seen or heard the intruder. The sheriff thought he’d been killed first. The glass in the back door had been busted in from

the outside, and the killer had reached in and unlocked the door.”

My bedroom . The memory of screams echoed in her head, and she wanted to slap her palms over her ears to drown out the noise. She had

to have heard those screams in real life when she was nine.

She swallowed. “Was there ever a viable suspect?”

“I never heard of one, but Rod would know. He was on the department then, though not a detective. Still, I’m sure he followed

it since it was family.” Lily grabbed hot pads and lifted the plate of apple dumplings. “We’d better get outside before they

eat without us.”

The relief in her voice touched Paradise. This couldn’t have been easy for her.