Page 106 of Paranoid

“Watch out, your claws are showing.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just sayin’.”

They’d walked to the living room again and he stopped near the door. “Is there anything else that links Violet and Annessa?”

“Oh, geez, I don’t know. I haven’t kept up with either of them.” She thought for a second. “All I know is that they both moved away for a time, got married. Neither had kids and they ended up back here. Violet came back because of her husband’s business—Leonard Sperry and the furniture store—and Annessa’s husband, whatever his name, Cooper—”

“Clinton.”

“Clint. Yeah, that’s right, he’s some big developer who bought some property around here. Annessa moved back here pretty recently, in the last couple of years, to help out with her parents. They were in their seventies and . . . I don’t remember but I think they’re both gone now, but don’t quote me on that. I could be wrong.

“Anyway, Annessa and Violet didn’t run in the same circles in high school, and I don’t think they became friends recently. At least I hadn’t heard that they connected.”

“But they were both at the cannery that night?”

It wasn’t a question and they both knew what night he was referring to.

“Yeah.” She eyed her ex. “But a lot of people were.”

“I know.”

“So what? Are you trying to freak me out? Because if you are, it’s working.”

“No.” He took a step toward her, and for a second she thought he might cross the room and wrap his arms around her. Instead, he stayed near the door. “I just want you and the kids to be careful.” He reached for the knob, then pointed at Reno, who had curled into his bed near the bookcase. “I’ll be back. Keep the dog on alert, reset the alarm, and lock up the house.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

And then he was gone.

No kiss.

No arms wrapped around her.

No hint of the intimacy they’d once shared.

Which was a good thing; what she’d insisted upon.

Right?

Why then the tinge of disappointment when she threw the dead bolt on the front door?

“Because you’re an idiot,” she whispered before engaging the alarm system near the back of the house, then starting her nightly routine of double-checking all the locks on the doors and latches on the windows.

CHAPTER 24

Kayleigh was waiting for him.

Cade recognized her slim form in the strobing lights of the cruisers barricading each end of the block in front of St. Augustine’s.

He parked and ducked under the crime scene tape, thus avoiding a TV crew that stood by a white news van, the logo of a Portland station emblazoned across the side panels. The reporter exchanged a disappointed look with the cameraman, who juggled a shoulder cam complete with microphone and lights at the ready.

Kayleigh stood, her hair pulled back, a baseball cap low over her eyes as she talked with Nowak and Voss near the open gate. She wore tight jeans and a coat that hit her midthigh. Deep in discussion, Kayleigh looked up as he approached. “Hey,” she said. “Got your message.”

He nodded. “I see. They bring you up to speed?”

“Yep.”