Page 5

What was Presley thinking, spending the night or morning, such as it was, at Dominic Bianchi’s house? She was already becoming very fond of his adorable daughter. Gia was sweet and caring, with a sensitive side and a stubborn streak. She reminded Presley of herself after Gwen’s death. Presley had been woefully na?ve before the incident had changed her.

She climbed into her vehicle and waited as Dominic pressed a button to lift the garage door. She motored inside and cut the engine before grabbing her bag and sliding out. Packing had been done hastily, so she didn’t have a wide selection of clothes to choose from. She’d brought a stylish, wrinkle-free dress to wear to Margy’s funeral. It looked as though it would have to do double-duty for Nancy’s service, or she’d have to go shopping.

Dominic ushered her inside the house and led her down a hallway. He pointed out his and Gia’s rooms before turning down another corridor to the guest suite.

“The sheets are clean, and towels are in the bathroom cabinet. It’s stocked with necessities. Sleep in. We can’t visit too early on a Saturday. Text me if you need anything.”

“I do . . . your phone number.”

Dominic recited it to her, and she texted him so he’d have hers. He bid her goodnight and left. She felt oddly bereft. Ridiculous.

Presley washed her face, brushed her teeth, and fell into bed.

After driving all night and day to get to Minnesota and then staying up late, she slept past her usual rising time. When she woke, she jumped into the shower and prepared for the day.

Usually, she worked out in the morning, but there was no time. Three women’s lives might be in danger. Presley hadn’t kept in touch with any of the Cheerios. After Gwen died, it was too painful for her to be around them. They had all graduated that summer anyway, so she hadn’t run into them at school.

Presley wondered how they would handle her news. Would they believe her? Reggie certainly didn’t. Dominic had been skeptical at first too.

She was right. She felt it in her bones.

Dominic sat at the breakfast bar sipping from a coffee cup and looking at his phone when she emerged from her room. He glanced up.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. Sorry I slept so late.”

“Seven o’clock is hardly late, especially since you went to bed around two.”

“It is for me.”

“Noted. Coffee?”

Presley shook her head. “I never acquired a taste for it.”

“Seriously? Are you sure you were a cop?”

She smiled. “Diet Coke does the same thing.”

“I have that too.” He slid off the stool and opened the fridge to hand her a cold bottle of soda. “How about an omelet?”

“That sounds delicious. Let me help.”

Together, they chopped veggies and fried bacon. They chatted about current events and Serenity Shores’s happenings. Gia came bopping in, her hair a riot of tangled curls.

“Presley! You’re still here.” Gia hugged her.

“I am.”

“Are you going to hang out with me again today? Please say yes.”

She looked so hopeful, and Presley hated disappointing the girl. She glanced at Dominic for help.

“Gia, honey, Presley and I have errands to run this morning. Amber Wick will be here to watch you while I’m gone.”

“But Daddy, I want to go with you.”

“I’m sorry, honey. This is work-related.”

“I can help,” she insisted.

Dominic gave her a look, and she relented. “Okay. Will you come back and hang out with me, Presley?”

“Gia, Presley is only visiting town for a short time. She has other things to do while she’s here.”

Gia’s shoulders slumped, and she trudged to the bar, climbing onto one of the stools. Her elbows hit the countertop, and she held her head in despair. Presley’s heart broke. She couldn’t disappoint the girl.

“If it’s okay with your dad, I’ll come back for a little while, and we can play a board game or something.”

Gia dropped her arms, and her eyes lit with hope. “Really?”

Presley glanced at Dominic, who looked from her to his daughter. “It’s fine with me.”

“Yay!” Gia fist pumped, and then she held out a hand for Presley to slap, which she did.

Dominic excused himself to answer the door when the bell chimed. He returned with a teenage girl in tow.

“Presley, this is Amber.”

They exchanged greetings. “Gia, you ready to make some more bracelets?”

“Uh, not really. I made some with Presley yesterday. I’d rather do a puzzle.” She hugged Dominic and then Presley. “See you soon.”

They decided Dominic would drive since he knew his way around. It’d been too many years since Presley had tried to navigate the streets of Serenity Shores and Duluth, where Tamera Watts lived.

Dominic started the SUV. “I need to stop by the police station. After that, who do you want to visit first?”

Presley buckled her seatbelt. “Jessie Hooper. She was always the ringleader.”

Dominic put the car in drive and motored out of the garage. He glanced over at her. “You’ve made quite an impression on my daughter.”

“She’s a great kid.”

“That she is. She’s usually reserved around strangers, especially women. We have a new firefighter on the C shift. Rena. She’s tried to be nice to Gia, but she won’t have anything to do with her. I asked her why, and she didn’t have an answer. How did you do it?”

Presley shrugged. “I threatened to feed her liver and onions.”

Dominic choked on a laugh. “You didn’t.”

“So did. I promised her corn dogs if she stayed in the car when I went to Nancy’s fire yesterday. She didn’t.”

“Yeah, she’s headstrong. I don’t know if I’m prepared for her teenage years.”

Presley smiled. He would do just fine, even if Gia had him wrapped around her finger.

“She said her mother was dead.”

Most people wouldn’t have noticed Dominic’s fingers tensing on the steering wheel, but Presley was a trained investigator.

“She did, huh?”

“Yeah, but it’s none of my business.”

He sighed. “It’s not a secret. Lainey decided she didn’t want to be a mom anymore. We had planned on at least three kids, possibly four. Lainey had a hard time getting her figure back after Gia’s birth. She was still a beautiful woman, but she didn’t like what she saw in the mirror. She blamed Gia.”

“It wasn’t Gia’s fault,” Presley defended.

“No, it wasn’t. Lainey was a former beauty queen whose identity was tied to her looks. She had a strict mother who put her on diets starting when she was younger than Gia. I’m sure that added to her psychosis. Plus, Lainey hated it here. She wanted to move to a big city with fancy stores and an exciting nightlife. I didn’t realize how much she’d taken out her frustrations on Gia . . . not physically,” he quickly pointed out. “It was mental.” His jaw clenched. “It kills me to know my daughter was hurting, and I didn’t realize it. It got to the point where she wouldn’t eat and was sullen and withdrawn. She was six years old.”

Presley’s heart broke for that little girl.

“It was apparent something was very wrong, but Gia wouldn’t talk. Lainey denied knowing anything. I took Gia to the doctor, and she ran tests, but everything came back fine. The doctor told me she thought it was in her head. I confronted Lainey again, and she finally admitted she’d been critical of Gia.”

“Dominic, that’s horrible.”

“It gets worse. That night, Lainey blew up at Gia, saying that she had never wanted her in the first place, what a disappointment she was, and that it was all her fault Lainey wasn’t happy.”

Presley wasn’t a crier, but tears pricked her eyes.

“Gia cried so hard that she made herself sick. I took her back to the doctor, and while we were gone, Lainey left.”

Presley didn’t know what to say, so she stayed quiet, letting him tell the story at his pace.

“She didn’t return that evening. The next morning, I called a lawyer to set the ball in motion for a divorce and petition for sole custody. There was no way I could let Gia be around her after that.”

“I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t either. What did Lainey say?”

“I didn’t hear from her all day. Had no idea where she was. That night, I got a call from the Minneapolis State Police. Lainey died in a single-car crash outside of St. Paul.”

Presley should probably feel bad about the loss of life, but the woman had tortured her own child. She deserved to rot in hell.

“The last three years have been rough. Gia was messed up at first. I was lucky that the captain’s job came up. It meant I had regular hours to be home with her at night and on the weekends. I took her to therapy to undo whatever Lainey had put into her head. She’s improved so much, but she hates it here.”

“It probably reminds her of her mother,” Presley murmured.

“Yeah. I thought it would improve as time passed, but it’s worsening.”

They arrived at the police station, and as Dominic was parking, Reggie Branch and Jed Flowers came out of the building. Reggie waved when he saw them and headed their way.

“Hey. You mentioned you would be talking to the other three Cheerios,” he said to Dominic.

Presley’s brows raised. He’d thought of the same thing before she’d brought it up.

“Nancy and Gene Babcock’s family have been notified, so it’s okay to let the women know they passed away. Also, Gene’s brother confirmed they were doing home renovations, so the cause of the fire sounds legit.”

“Thanks for letting us know.”

“Do you believe me now?” Presley asked Reggie. “What are the odds of two friends dying the same way days apart? I’d say statistically improbable, if not impossible.”

“I’m not completely on board.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he tacked on, “Let’s say I’m not discounting the possibility of foul play.”

It was a start.

“I’ll keep you posted about any developments.”

They said their goodbyes and headed to Jessie’s address. Dominic pulled up to a gatehouse. Presley was impressed. Jessie had done well for herself.

“Captain Bianchi, it’s good to see you,” the guard said. His nametag read Phil.

“You too, Phil. Is Jessie in?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I was hoping she’d see me. It’s important.”

“Hold on.”

Phil returned to the booth and came out a minute later. “She said go on up.”

“Thanks.”

Phil pushed a button, and an aluminum arm rose to let them pass. Dominic maneuvered along the driveway that ended at a stately Antebellum-style house with soaring columns and rocking chairs on the covered wraparound porch. It looked as if it belonged on an expansive plantation in the deep South.

“This is where Jessie lives?”

“It is. She married Sam King.”

Presley gaped at him. “No. Really?”

“Yep. His father owned several car dealerships around the area, and he’s set up to inherit everything.”

“I remember. I bought my first car from his dad. Sam always had the best vehicles.”

“He did,” Dominic agreed. “We were all jealous, but he was good about letting us drive them.”

Presley studied the opulent mansion as they ascended the massive steps. It boasted several balconies and multiple pillars. It was grand. Extravagant.

“I don’t remember this house.”

“The Kings had it built after their marriage. It was Jessie’s design.”

Dominic rang the bell. Soon, a woman appeared and opened the door.

“Mr. Bianchi. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Celia.”

“You can wait in the parlor. I’ll let Mrs. King know you’re here.”

Parlor? How many people had those these days?

Presley followed Dominic through the entry. The foyer was enormous, with large windows, high ceilings, and intricate plasterwork. A sweeping stairway led to the second and third floors. Presley would never want to live in such a place. It was, for want of a better word, cold.

Dominic stopped and motioned for her to precede him into a room bathed in sunlight from several windows. The furniture was carved and tufted, with wood trim. Presley was sure it had a name, but she didn’t know it. She took a seat, and Dominic joined her.

“You seem to know a lot about Jessie and her house.” She tried to keep the envious tone out of her voice.

“She and Sam host several parties a year. I usually have to attend.”

“Ah.” That didn’t sound like a close, personal relationship . . . not that it mattered to Presley. She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t.

“Dominic.”

Presley glanced up as Jessie Hooper entered the room. For a moment, she was transported back in time to when Gwen, Jessie, and the crew had been larger than life. She had desperately wanted to be one of them, to be as old as they were and hang out with them. She’d been so lucky they’d treated her as part of their crew. Other kids had athletes or movie stars as their heroes. The Cheerios had been her idols.

Presley stood as Jessie grabbed Dominic’s hands and air-kissed his cheeks. Her hairstyle was the same shoulder-length, straight curtain of silky black from high school.

“It’s good to see you, Dominic.” Jessie turned to her. “And who do we have . . .” Her jaw dropped open. “ Presley Parrish ? Oh, dear Lord baby Jesus, is that you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my God.” Jessie grabbed her and yanked her in for a fierce hug. Presley got a whiff of expensive perfume mixed with alcohol. “I’ve thought of you so much over the years and wondered what happened to you.” She pulled back to study Presley. “My gosh, you’re stunning. You were such an adorable kid. I always knew you would turn into a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you.”

“I hated I lost track of you after . . . well, you know. You were so important to me, and I felt like I lost you that night, too.”

Again, tears crowded Presley’s eyes. What was wrong with her?

“You know, I thought of you last week. Someone asked about you.”

Presley blinked back the wetness. “Oh?”

“Yes. He was researching his family tree and said you were on it.”

“Really? What was his name?”

“Andy something. Strange man, but he was nice enough.”

Presley would have to ask her parents about any relatives named Andy. She couldn’t think of any off the top of her head. “What did he look like?”

“Average height and weight. He wore glasses and had one of those funky beards.” She drew an arch around her mouth.

“A Fu Manchu?”

“Yes, that’s it. Oh, and he had a scar here.” She pointed to the side of her face.

“Do you have a way to contact him?”

“I don’t. He said he was only in town for a couple of days.” Jessie glanced between Presley and Dominic, and a smile crossed her face. “Are you two together?”

“No, absolutely not,” Presley sputtered.

Dominic frowned at her. Maybe her protest had been a tad too forceful.

“Presley is only in town for a few days,” Dominic supplied evenly.

“Oh? What brings you home?”

“Margy Binder.”

Sadness washed over Jessie’s face. “I was shocked and upset to hear she’d passed.”

“And Nancy Baker.”

Jessie blinked, and her brow furrowed. “What about her?”

“She and her husband died in a fire yesterday evening.”

“No.” Jessie fell to the sofa and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, no.”

Presley sat beside her and placed an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry to deliver the news to you. You were still close?”

Jessie’s arms dropped. “No. I haven’t talked to her in years.”

“What about Margy?”

“I lost touch with all the Cheerios.”

Presley was taken aback. Years ago, the girls had been inseparable. They had done everything together from the time they were five years old. It was strange that they still lived in the vicinity, yet they weren’t friends anymore. What the hell?

Jessie jumped to her feet, startling Presley.

“I could use a drink. Can I get one for either of you?”

Presley checked her watch. It was nine in the morning. “Uh, no.”

“I’m good,” Dominic responded.

Jessie moved to a wet bar in the corner and picked up a glass before opening a container and dropping ice inside with a pair of gold tongs. Then she poured clear liquid and slammed it back before refilling. Presley shot a glance at Dominic. He gave her a sympathetic look with a slight shrug.

Jessie retook her seat with glass in hand. “I don’t know what happened to the other girls. Life gets in the way, you know? We drifted apart.”

Presley wanted to find that hard to believe, but then, she hadn’t kept in touch with them either. In her defense, Gwen had been her link to the Cheerios. When she died, the chain had been broken.

“That’s horrible about Nancy,” Jessie said before downing half her glass.

“When was the last time you talked to her?” Dominic wanted to know.

Jessie absently swirled the liquid in her tumbler. “Years. Sometime after we graduated high school.”

“That long?” Presley was astonished.

Jessie shot her a quelling look. “It’s not so long ago. I’m not that old.”

Maybe not in years, but her face looked decades older. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Jessie waved a hand. “I know you didn’t, Pep.”

Time scrolled backward again. It had been so long since she’d heard that nickname. Presley Erin Parrish. Pep. It had been Gwen who’d bestowed the moniker upon her, thinking it’d be funny since Presley wanted so badly to be a part of the pep squad. Sometimes, she’d wondered if the girls even knew her real name.

Jessie stared into her nearly empty glass. “We went our separate ways and drifted apart. I’ve certainly thought of them over the years, but not enough to pick up the phone. I’ve been so busy, so I didn’t take the time to get in touch. They could’ve reached out to me too, you know.”

“I wasn’t accusing you of anything,” Presley insisted. “It surprised me because you were all such good friends.”

Jessie huffed a humorless chuckle. “We were, for a fact. Then, we lost our anchor. I can’t speak for the others, but it was hard to look at them and not picture Gwenie.”

There was nothing Presley could say since she felt the same way. Gwen’s funeral had been excruciating. Seeing the other five girls huddled together and crying had been her undoing. Gwen’s death had hit so hard that her parents had to take her home.

“You must know how I felt.”

Jessie’s words snapped Presley from her memories. “I do,” she murmured.

“Jessie? Whose SUV is that—”

All heads turned toward the entry as a man came storming inside. Presley wasn’t sure she would’ve recognized Sam King if she didn’t know Jessie was married to him. He’d been handsome in high school, popular and athletic. He’d always come in second to Dominic in everything from prom king to male athlete of the year.

The years had caught up with him. His once thick black hair was thinning and receding. Padding around the middle suggested he wasn’t as physically fit as he’d been back then. He still oozed money, though.

“Oh, hey, Dom. I didn’t recognize your vehicle, though I should have since I sold it to you.” They shook hands. Then Sam’s gaze moved to her and took a leisurely stroll down her body. “Who is this?”

Jessie, in the process of refilling her glass, tossed over her shoulder, “Sam, you remember Gwenie’s cousin Presley, don’t you?”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You’re Gwen’s little mini-me?”

“I am her cousin, yes.”

“Wow, you were an adorable kid. Nice job growing up.”

A clatter sounded from the bar. “Oops, sorry,” Jessie muttered, not sounding the least bit remorseful as she picked up the ice tongs. Presley thought that maybe this happened often with Sam. Judging from his lecherous look, he was still a hound dog.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Margy Binder and Nancy Baker.”

“Oh yeah, that was bad about Margy . . . wait, did you say Nancy? Why?”

“She and her husband perished in a fire last night,” Dominic told him.

Sam rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Wow, I hadn’t heard. That’s terrible. I dated her back in the day.”

“When was the last time you spoke with her?” asked Presley.

“A few months ago.”

“ What?” Jessie screeched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?”

“Uh, maybe because I’m your wife.”

Sam merely shrugged.

To diffuse the tension, Presley questioned, “Did she say anything that would raise flags, like she was being followed or anything?”

“Nah, it was friendly chit-chat. That’s all. Nothing earth-shattering or life-altering.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you spoke with one of my friends,” Jessie spat.

“Some friend. You haven’t talked to her in years. Besides, she was my friend too.”

The tension in the room was palpable. They might’ve been close once, but there was no love lost between Jessie and Sam.

Obviously feeling the same negative vibes, Dominic turned to Sam. “Are your fire alarms up to date?”

“Hell if I know,” Sam confessed. “You’d have to ask Celia. I know that if Jessie so much as lights up a cigarette, they notify the fire department.”

“Bastard,” Jessie muttered. “I don’t smoke.”

Sam either didn’t hear or chose to ignore his wife.

“Mind if I check them?” Dominic wanted to know.

Sam waved his hand. “Knock yourself out. I’ll show you where they are.”

Presley waited until the men left the room to pull Jessie aside. “You need to be careful.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because I think someone is targeting the Cheerios, using fire, the way Gwen died, as the mode of murder. First Margy, then Nancy.”

Jessie chuffed a laugh. “You sound like a cop.”

“I am—or was. I’m in private security now.”

Jessie’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “You? No way. I pictured you growing up to be a kindergarten teacher or something to do with animals. Maybe a professional cheerleader.”

“I was a detective, and that’s why I’m warning you to be cautious.”

“You never cease to amaze me, Pep.” Jessie waved her concern away. “It’s merely a strange coincidence.”

It irked Presley that no one took her concerns seriously. “Nevertheless, please be careful. Don’t let strangers in your house. Make sure your security team is briefed. Maintain vigilance.”

“Okay, okay, I will.” Jessie hugged her. “It’s so good to see you after all these years. Hey, we’re having a fundraising gala in a few days. Dominic will be attending. Why don’t you come with him?”

“If I’m still in town, I will.”

“I would love to get together and catch up. Gosh, I’ve missed you, Pep.”

“I won’t be here long, but I’ll make time for you, Jessie.”

#

Jessie King watched Sam escort Presley and Dominic to their vehicle. They stood and talked for a few minutes before shaking hands. Sam patted the driver’s side door and backed away as Dominic motored down the driveway.

Jessie turned from the window. She couldn’t believe Presley Parrish had been at her house. As Sam had said, she’d done a nice job of growing up. She was a gorgeous woman, though Jessie always knew she would be. Presley had been such a sweet child, and Jessie had adored her as much as Gwen had. She’d been their little sister, and Jessie would’ve done anything for her.

If Jessie had any feelings left, she might’ve been jealous of Presley’s beauty. She noticed the way Sam had undressed her with his gaze. At one time, she would’ve been tempted to claw out the eyes of any woman Sam ogled. That Jessie no longer existed.

Unlike Pep, the girl, there was a hardness about Presley, the woman that hadn’t been there years ago. She was both mysterious and alluring. She probably had men lusting after her everywhere she went.

There had been a time when Jessie could turn almost any man’s head. She’d been feminine and sexy and knew she owned the world. Those days were long gone.

The garage door opened, and Sam’s flashy red Mercedes Benz rolled out. He rotated his time between their many car dealerships, but Jessie had a feeling he would be out trolling for sex. It was his favorite pastime—though not with her. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d slept together in any sense of the world.

Jessie had loved him once, back when she’d been young and stupidly na?ve. She’d wanted a slew of children to fill the ginormous house she’d designed, but Sam was shooting blanks. She’d gone through extensive testing to learn that she wasn’t the cause of their infertility. They tried IVF to no avail. They could’ve adopted, but Sam had nixed the idea. He didn’t want to raise someone else’s child—his words. He’d always been indifferent around kids. Sometimes, Jessie wondered if he’d had a vasectomy without telling her. She wouldn’t put it past him.

Jessie picked up her cell phone and dialed Tamera Watts’s number. She’d told Presley a white lie. She had spoken to Tamera after graduation, though it was several years ago. Jessie wasn’t even sure the number was correct. Tamera might’ve changed it. She’d also talked with Margy, Nancy, and Charmaine around the same time, but they hadn’t kept in touch. Charmaine had married a minister and was deeply involved with the church. She’d flaunted her holier-than-thou attitude at Jessie, and it had taken all she had not to slug the woman. Nancy had been aloof, and Margy had been indifferent. It had been evident that they were no longer friends.

Tamera’s phone kicked to voicemail, and Jessie let out a curse. She disconnected instead of leaving a message. She’d pay her a visit after she sobered up.