Page 37 of Artifice (Pros and Cons Mysteries #4)

W ithout thinking, Olive darted from her place in the woods, Tevin on her heels.

They ran to the cliff, pausing a good foot from the edge.

Olive sucked in a breath as she peered over.

But Ms. Strickland was nowhere to be seen.

However, the angry turbulent water below could have easily sucked her up. It was at least a four-hundred-foot drop.

Olive’s hand covered her mouth. “What just happened?”

“She jumped. There’s no way either of us could have seen that coming.”

“But . . . it just doesn’t make sense.” The pieces didn’t fit in Olive’s mind. “Why would someone who wanted to commit suicide walk out here with a flashlight and a radio? Who had she been talking to even?”

“That’s something we need to figure out.”

“Should we call 911?” Olive still stared at the water, halfway hoping that this was a mistake, and she might see Ms. Strickland hanging on the edge of the cliff.

But she didn’t.

“There’s no way she survived that jump,” Tevin said. “And if we call the police it’s going to be obvious we were out here.”

“But it feels wrong . . .” A lump formed in her throat.

Tevin gripped her arm. “I know. But we don’t have any other choice right now. They’ll discover she’s missing, and they’ll probably start a search tomorrow. If not, maybe we can call in an anonymous tip.”

Still feeling dazed, Olive nodded.

Tevin pulled her back another step.

But before leaving the area, Olive reached down and grabbed the radio.

This might help them get answers—answers they needed.

But the image of what had happened tonight would haunt her for a long time.

Exhaustion weighed on Olive’s shoulders as she climbed the creaking stairs of the Harbor View B&B. Tevin stayed in the van, doing a little more research and timing his entrance so it wasn’t so close to hers.

Seeing Ms. Strickland walk off that cliff had set her on edge. All she wanted was to collapse into bed and process everything Abe had told her about Colin and the mysterious “supplements.”

She fumbled with her key, noticing a thin strip of light beneath her door.

She froze.

Had she left a lamp on? Unlikely.

Years of constantly moving with her father had ingrained certain habits. Never leave evidence. Never waste electricity. Always maintain your escape route.

Instantly alert, she pressed her ear to the door. The faint sound of movement came from within.

Someone was in her room.

Olive slipped her hand into her pocket, fingers closing around her gun.

Curiosity won out over caution.

She silently turned the key and, in one swift movement, pushed the door open.

Simon Long sat in the armchair by the window.

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender that somehow still managed to look mocking. “No need for that, Ms. Sterling. Or would you prefer Agent Sterling? I’m not entirely clear on your professional designation at Aegis.”

Olive’s lungs tightened as she stood in the doorway.

Simon knew who she was. How?