Page 72 of Secrets Along the Shore (Beach Read Thrillers #1)

Four murders, but only three were college-aged victims. The fourth was a waitress with a drug-dealing side hustle.

Four murders, but Kamden was the only one buried so far from the highway.

Ensuring justice isn’t the only motive a person might have for killing Fogerty right before he’s about to be sentenced.

There is another explanation.

I’m about to share my thoughts with the others when Cole strides through the doorway, his eyebrows knitted together. “Soph, are you okay?” He slides into the seat next to me. “I heard you were in the middle of the shooting when it went down.”

“I’m fine.”

“They said you ran after the shooter?”

He does not look impressed.

“You did what?” Tasha punctuates each word, her volume much louder than it needs to be in this small room.

I shrug and ready myself for what’s coming.

Cole rolls his eyes. “Well, that was stupid,” he says.

“Or brave?” I suggest, knowing good and well he’s right. Going after him on my own, unarmed , was idiotic.

“Nope,” he retorts, his voice gravelly. “Just stupid.”

“Sophie…” Tasha groans.

“I know, I know. I just reacted, okay? I didn’t think. I didn’t want him to get away.”

“Not an excuse, Soph. You need to be more careful.” He pauses. “I mean, what would James say?”

“James would know better than to say anything,” I quip, but with a smile. Cole is one of the few people who can take me to task without getting my hackles up. Probably because he’s Daniel’s best friend and Daniel left him the impossible job of looking after me—not something I’d wish on anyone.

I can be a lot.

I splay my hands. “See? All in one piece, no bullet holes. ”

“Uh-huh,” he says, his tone lacking conviction. “Whatever. I tried.” He stands back up and steps toward the door. “So, Sheriff said to tell you he’ll keep you all posted.”

“Looks nuts down there,” Keel says, tipping his head at the window.

“Yeah.” Cole pats the doorframe. “I better get back. You”—he points a finger at me—“no more running after gunmen. Got it?”

I throw him a salute. He shakes his head and walks to the elevator.

Cole is barely out of hearing distance when Tasha starts in. “You ran after him?”

“Don’t you start.”

“That. Is. Epic.” Keel raises a hand to high-five me and I oblige, the resulting smack loud in the room.

Tasha crosses her arms in front of her. “Sophie?—”

“Look,” I say, “I’d love to sit here all day, rehashing how I conduct myself, but”—I point at the whiteboard dedicated to Kamden Avery—“we need to talk about something.” I inhale and blow out a pensive breath. “Seriously.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her expression tightening.

“Before Kamden Avery, we had three murders and evidence to tie Fogerty to each of them—the writing on the arm, the trophies, the fact that the highway was on his route?—”

“His DNA on Teresa,” Keel adds. “Couldn’t have been neater if we tied it up with a bow.”

“Exactly.” I lean my forearms on the table. “But now, with Kamden…”

“I know.” Tasha walks over to the whiteboards. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

Keel’s gaze flashes from me to Tasha, then his head drops to one side. “No…don’t go there.”

“Think about it,” I say. “There are differences. Kamden’s body was left much farther from 174 than the first three.”

“Teresa was buried farther in from the highway too, just not as far,” Keel argues. “Fogerty realized that leaving the bodies in more isolated areas reduced his chances of being spotted.”

“Except, based on the timing of Kamden’s final posts and when her roommate saw her last, Kamden , not Teresa, was the third victim.

Teresa was actually the fourth. Which would mean Fogerty started out leaving his victims close to the highway, then moved really far in to bury Kamden, then buried Teresa on property closer to the highway.

That doesn’t make sense. And speaking of buried—Teresa and Kamden were the only ones buried in a tarp—or buried at all. The first two were just dumped.”

“We should wait to see what the coroner comes up with for a time of death for Kamden,” Tasha says. “Otherwise, all of this is speculation.”

“There isn’t a trophy for Kamden,” I continue. “Not one we’ve found or identified on the inventory list, anyway. Then there’s the fact that Kamden doesn’t fit his victim profile at all.”

I push out of my chair and start pacing.

“We all want this to be Fogerty’s doing.

If it’s him, we’re done, and there isn’t another murderer out there we have to find.

But there are inconsistencies in Kamden’s case that we can’t ignore…

inconsistencies that also shine a different light on Teresa’s case. ”

“Uh-uh. Come on, Soph.” Keel groans. “Do you realize what you’re saying? What…Fogerty didn’t kill Teresa either? You’re really lumping her murder and Kamden Avery’s together?”

“Just go with me. What if it wasn’t a family member who shot Fogerty? What if someone wanted him dead for a reason other than to exact justice or get revenge? Maybe they wanted to keep him quiet.”

Tasha straightens a photo on Kamden’s board. “You’re back to the copycat or partner theory. Somebody who wouldn’t want Fogerty pointing us in their direction?”

“I’m just saying, we have to consider the possibility—in light of the jail attack and, now, Fogerty’s murder—that more is going on than we thought.”

“I do not want to believe there’s another monster out there,” Tasha says.

Keel squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing them with his thumb and forefinger. “Amen.”

“Me either, but?— ”

A soft knock sounds at the door. “Excuse me?”

Our heads swivel simultaneously. The office assistant, Emily, stands in the doorway, her face so pale I worry she might faint.

“Umm…” She bites her lip. “I think there’s something I need to tell you.”