Page 7

Despite not believing Presley initially, Dominic was entirely on board with her theory that someone was targeting the Cheerios. The only thing they could do was warn them and hope they heeded the advice. Jessie had seemed skeptical, and Charmaine was too far under her husband’s control to think for herself.

The encounter with Charmaine had been rough. It was apparent she was frightened of Ezekiel. Dom had no use for wife-beaters. If he had his way, they’d all be tossed into a pit and left to rot. Double that sentiment if they harmed their kids, but he had no reason to believe their children were abused. They didn’t show the same signs their mother did. He would hope that if Ezekiel turned his fists toward the kids, Charmaine would intervene somehow.

There were resources for women like her. He’d find a discrete way to get a pamphlet into her hands with numbers she could call for help. The rest would be up to her.

Dom drove the thirty miles to Duluth along the scenic road that paralleled Lake Superior to Tamera Pace Watt’s house.

“I’ve forgotten how beautiful it is here,” Presley murmured.

“You tend to take it for granted when you see it daily,” Dom replied.

There was a lull in the conversation, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He came to a stoplight and checked the directions on his onboard GPS.

“I suppose you also know all about Tamera,” Presley remarked.

Dominic glanced at her. Was that snark he detected? “Actually, no. I haven’t seen her in years. She recently divorced her third husband, Earl Pace, a musician. She’s an accountant.”

“How do you know this?”

“Sam King.”

“Hum. He seems to know more about the Cheerios than his wife, who was one,” Presley observed.

“I noticed that too.”

The robotic voice instructed him where to turn, and soon, he stopped in front of a yellow Queen Anne-style historic home with a double-column front porch. It was located in a neighborhood close to the Rose Garden, Lakewalk, and downtown Duluth.

“It’s charming,” Presley noted as they stepped out of the vehicle.

Somewhere down the street, a dog barked. Dom almost placed a hand against Presley’s back as they navigated the sidewalk, but he refrained. Barely.

As they neared the home, it was apparent that it needed significant repairs to return to its original glory. Most of the paint was peeling, a long, jagged crack marred the glass in the bay window, and several pieces of the decorative spindle work and gable trim were missing. The roof looked as if it wouldn’t last through another Minnesota winter. The handrail wobbled, and several boards gave with his weight. He hoped he didn’t fall through the porch.

Presley pushed the bell decorated with a Common Loon. A few minutes later, the door opened.

“Can I help you?”

“Tamera Pace?”

“It’s Watts,” she corrected. “I went back to my maiden name.”

#

Much like Charmaine, Presley never would’ve recognized Tamera. She looked nothing like the teen Presley remembered, with wavy mahogany hair and a face full of freckles. This woman was a hard-looking bleached blonde with a surgically enhanced chest. Lines fanned from the corners of her heavily made-up eyes, and the freckles were covered with a layer or two of foundation and blush. She almost looked clownish.

“Tamera, I’m Presley Parrish.” When the woman just stared at her, she added, “Gwen Parrish’s cousin.”

“I know. I just can’t believe it. Pep! It really is you.”

Tamera pulled her in for a hug, and the overwhelming stench of cigarette smoke almost knocked Presley over.

Tamera released her and framed her face with her hands. “Honey, it’s been too long. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Times are tough, but aren’t they all over?”

“Can we talk to you? You remember Dominic Bianchi.”

Tamera took in Dominic, and she obviously liked what she saw, judging from the predatory gleam in her eyes. “I would’ve recognized you anywhere, Dominic. Still tall, dark, and drop-dead gorgeous. Every girl in school crushed hard on you.” She hugged him. “Come in. Come in. It’s so good to see you both.”

Tamera held the door open, and they stepped into her home. The entry was set up as an office space with a cluttered desk and two visitor seats. Tamera cleared stacks of files from the chairs and dropped them in a pile against a wall.

“Please, have a seat. Would either of you like something to drink?” When they declined, she lifted the top of a decorative pink lotus on her desk. The petals dropped open to display an array of cigarettes. “Smoke?”

“No. Thanks.”

She closed it and took a seat. “If I’d known you were still in the area, Presley, I’d have called you long ago to get lunch and catch up.”

“I’m not. I returned for Margy Binder’s funeral and now Nancy Baker’s.”

“I heard about Margy.” She tsked. “Terrible news—wait.” Her head jerked up. “Did you say Nancy Baker?”

“Yes, she and her husband passed away yesterday.”

Tamera’s face crumpled. “No, not Nancy.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Tamera buried her face in her hands and cried.

Presley hated to intrude on her moment of grief, but they still needed to visit the coroner. “You were close with them?”

Tamera dropped her hands. “I hadn’t spoken with either of them in years.”

What had happened to make the Cheerios drift so far apart? They were best friends once. Presley couldn’t understand why the women hadn’t kept in touch if they still cared about each other. It made little sense. Was it losing Gwen?

“When was the last time you spoke with Margy or Nancy?”

Instead of using the lotus container, Tamera reached into a drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She tapped one into her hand and stuck it in her mouth. Using a small yellow lighter, she flicked it to bring up a flame and touched it to the tip. That reminded Presley of how Nancy and Margy died. And Gwen.

Tamera inhaled a breath, pulling the nicotine deep into her lungs before letting it out. Smoke curled from her mouth and nostrils. Presley tried not to recoil from the stench.

“Years. Graduation, maybe?”

“What happened?”

Tamera didn’t answer. She looked lost in memories.

“Tamera? Why haven’t you spoken to the other Cheerios?”

She hitched a shoulder. “You get older, grow apart.”

It was the same thing Jessie had said. Presley would have an easier time believing it if the women didn’t all live within thirty miles of each other.

“Tamera, what happened between you all?”

For a moment, there was a flash of sadness in Tamera’s eyes. Most people might not notice, but Presley was trained to look for the small tells.

“Honestly, I don’t remember. It was so long ago.” She took another drag of the cigarette. “We existed in a bubble in high school, you know? It wasn’t real life. It was make-believe when you were young, starry-eyed, and thought anything was possible. The world was at your fingertips. Those friendships don’t last. Life hits you smack in the face.” She slammed her hand on the desk for emphasis, making Presley jump. “You grow up fast. That’s what Gwen’s death did to us, but instead of slapping us in the face, it knocked us out.”

Presley was well aware of that fact. She’d grown up from her cousin’s death too. It had robbed her of her childhood. She’d lost the most important person in her life after her parents. She shook off the dark memories.

“You didn’t come across any of the other women over the years?”

“No—well, I take that back. I ran into Charmaine at the Walmart Supercenter in Hermantown a few years ago. I almost didn’t recognize her. She’s changed dramatically. She was with her husband, and let me tell you, he was awful. Charmaine was very unpleasant and tried to preach to me. I guess she’s gone full-on church lady. I had to walk away.”

“What about Jessie?”

Tamera shook her head, but Presley had a feeling she was lying. The question was, why?

“Are your fire alarms in working order?” Dominic wanted to know.

The question seemed to surprise Tamera. “I guess so. I haven’t heard an annoying beep indicating the battery is low.”

“Do you mind if I take a look at them?”

Tamera waved a hand. “Knock yourself out.”

Dominic stood and left the room. Tamera watched him go with a sigh.

“Pep, you snagged a good one. He was the hottie of Serenity Shores High. Every girl wanted to date him. We were so damn jealous of Gwen when she caught him.”

“We’re not dating. I live out of state.”

“So? Do the long-distance thing. He looks totally worth it.” She wagged her brows.

“Tamera,” Presley warned as Dominic returned. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard the conversation.

“Your fire alarms are old.”

“So is this house,” Tamera remarked. “Earl, my former husband, and I had plans to remodel, but the marriage didn’t last long enough. Now I’m stuck with this money pit.”

“I wouldn’t trust them to protect you,” Dominic told her. “I have some in my truck. They’re the latest model. I’m going to replace yours.”

“That is so sweet of you, Dominic. Thank you.”

When he left, Presley asked, “Tamera, has anything out of the ordinary happened to you lately?”

Tamera thought for a moment and shook her head. “No. Why?”

“You need to be careful. I don’t believe Margy and Nancy’s deaths were accidents.”

Tamera choked on a puff of smoke and started hacking. One hand covered her mouth while the other stubbed the butt out in an overflowing ashtray on her desk. When she composed herself, she asked, “You think I’m in danger?”

“I can’t say that for sure, but you need to be careful and aware of your surroundings. Make sure you lock your doors. And be wary of strangers.”

“O-okay.”

Presley took out a business card. “I’ll be in town for a few days. If you notice anything suspicious or need to talk, give me a call.”

Tamera took the card and ran her hand over the gold embossing. “You’ve done well for yourself, Pep. I will call if there’s any trouble.”

“Are you going to the funerals?”

It took a few seconds for Tamera to answer. When she did, Presley was surprised.

“Probably not. I buried one friend. It was excruciating. I can’t go through that again.”

Presley thought that was selfish but didn’t voice her thoughts.

“You know, I just remembered, but someone was asking about you last week.”

How strange. Jessie had said the same thing. “Do you know who it was?”

“A man. I think he said his name was Andy. He was doing genealogical research and had come across your name as a relative. He’d been adopted and was trying to find out all he could about his birth family.”

Presley couldn’t think of anyone in her tree who had given up a child. “How did he know to contact you?”

“He said that someone had told him about how you used to cheer with us.”

“What did he want to know about me?”

“Anything I could provide, but I didn’t give him anything useful, mostly because I didn’t know what had happened with you. For that, I’m so sorry.”

“What did he look like?”

“Dark hair, a mustache, and a beard. Glasses. Sharp dresser.”

Same description as Jessie’s.

“Oh, and he had a scar here.” She pointed from the corner of her mouth to her ear. “It looked nasty.”

Undeniably the same man. “Did he leave a way to contact him?”

“No. He said he wouldn’t be in the area long.”

A frisson of unease zipped through her nerves. Someone had been going around town, asking about her, and suddenly, the Cheerios had started dying one by one. Did it have something to do with her?

When Dominic returned, he made quick work of switching out the alarms, and then they said their goodbyes.

“It was so good to see you, Presley.” Tamera engulfed her, and Presley returned the embrace.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be at the funerals.”

“I’ll think about it.”