Mallory Kane - High School Reunion

Within a few minutes, a familiar man in his early fifties, wearing a badge and a gun, walked up to her. Behind him, a younger man in a misbuttoned police uniform shirt carried a roll of yellow crime-scene tape.

“Evening, Laurel. That is, Special Agent Gillespie. I didn’t know you were an FBI agent.”

“Officer Evans, hi.”

“Cade—Chief Dupree—called us to tape off the scene. He said you might need some help.” He punched a thumb backward through the air. “This is Officer Shelton Phillips.”

She nodded at Phillips and smiled at Officer Evans. “Thanks,” she said gratefully.

Just like Cade’s dad, Fred Evans had been a police officer since she could remember. His daughter Debra had belonged to the snootiest clique in school.

Officer Phillips quickly cordoned off the front of the house and then headed around back.

Laurel turned toward the dwindling crowd just as a tall woman with skinny legs and a haughty air walked up. Kathy Hodges.

Speaking of snooty. Kathy and Debra and a couple of other girls had named themselves the Cool Girls. The rest of the class called them the CeeGees. They’d made it their mission to target certain classmates, usually the shyest ones, to humiliate and embarrass.

Laurel’s confidence drained away as scenes from the most embarrassing night of her life swept through her head with the clarity of a high-definition movie.

Afterward, she’d kicked herself for not seeing through the cruel prank. But on the night of the Homecoming Dance her sophomore year, she’d really believed that senior football captain James Dupree, who was the Homecoming King, wanted her to dance the traditional first dance with him. Although she was smitten with James’s younger brother Cade, there was no way she would pass up the biggest honor in a sophomore girl’s year.

Remembered excitement and apprehension swirled through her as she relived that awful moment. Standing on the dance floor in a brand new gown, clutching the note from James in her hand.

Please do me the honor of dancing the first dance with me.

Her heart fluttering as James’s cocky gaze swept the room, stopping to wink at her.

Then he held out his hand and smiled. And Laurel had started climbing the stairs to the stage.

Still smiling at her, James named another girl. Everyone’s laughter still rang in her ears. By the next morning, it was all over school and Laurel was humiliated.

Now here she was, facing Kathy for the first time since she’d graduated and moved away with her parents. Despite her success, she suddenly felt like the plain, shy girl she’d been ten years ago.

Kathy’s blond hair was sleek and newly colored, her makeup was perfect, but her eyes were bloodshot, and not even expensive makeup could hide all the tiny veins visible around her nose. A lit cigarette smoldered in her perfectly manicured hand. She looked thin and pinched and miserable.

Laurel stood straighter as Kathy walked purposefully up the steps.

“Pardon me,” Kathy said, waving the hand that held the cigarette. Even with the cigarette smoke, Laurel could smell whiskey on her breath.

“Sorry, Kathy. This is a crime scene. No one’s allowed inside.”

Kathy’s perfectly shaped brows drew down as she eyed Laurel. “Nonsense. Misty’s my friend.”

Doubt it, Laurel thought.

Kathy made a shooing gesture toward Laurel. “Check with Cade—Police Chief Dupree. Now excuse me.”

Laurel’s initial flutter of apprehension at facing Kathy evaporated in a flash of anger. She held her badge in front of Kathy’s face.

“Sorry, Kathy. FBI. Please step back.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kathy nervously flicked ash off her cigarette.

“Special Agent Laurel Gillespie.” She met Kathy’s hard green gaze and was rewarded by a look of frank shock.

Just as Fred Evans walked up, Kathy recovered.

“You have got to be kidding.” She tried to sidestep Laurel.

“Hold it, Kathy,” Officer Evans said, taking her arm.

Kathy looked down at his hand. “You don’t want to do that, Fred.”

Laurel frowned. Were Kathy’s words slurred? She’d smelled the booze on her breath. But was she really drunk at just after eight in the evening?

“One word to Harrison and you—” Kathy pointed her cigarette at Fred, “will be facing assault charges.” That came out as ashault sharges.

“Right.” His brown eyes twinkled as he glanced at Laurel. “Your husband’s a real estate attorney. Come on, let’s take you home. All the excitement’s over. I’ll tell Harrison to get you into bed.” He gestured to Officer Phillips.

“Oh, please, Fred. Harrison hasn’t gotten me into bed in two years.”

“Shelton, walk Mrs. Adler home and make sure Harrison’s there. I’ll stay here in case the chief needs anything else.”

Phillips led Kathy away.

Laurel didn’t have any more trouble, although several more people she’d known in high school showed up. Obviously, word still spread as fast as it always had in Dusty Springs.

Within a couple of minutes, the EMTs rolled Misty out on a gurney. Fred and Phillips and a couple of guys they’d recruited kept the rubberneckers at bay as the EMTs loaded Misty into the ambulance.

Static erupted from Fred’s radio. He listened, said something, and then walked up the steps.

“I’ve got everything under control out here, Agent Gillespie,” Fred said. “Chief Dupree wants you inside.”

“Thanks. But please call me Laurel. It’s good to see you. So you’re working with Cade now.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Yep. Worked for his dad and now for him. Kind of a tradition in Dusty Springs I guess.”

“How is Debra?”

His chuckle faded. “She’s fine. Cade’s waiting for you.”

Laurel thanked him again and went inside. The living room’s overhead light was on. It spotlighted the scrapbooks and photo albums that were torn and tossed all over the floor amidst dozens of loose photos and piles of books.

Somebody had been looking for something, and Laurel was afraid she knew what it was. The question was, had they found it?

Cade’s head turned a few degrees. “I guess you’re here for the reunion. You were in Misty’s class, right? How’d you happen to turn up just in time?”

He faced the back of the couch, looking down at the spot where Misty had lain. Laurel had her first fully lighted view of him.

Her mouth went dry and her throat fluttered, just like in high school. Most of the girls in Dusty Springs would have given their eyeteeth for a smile from his brother James, but it was Cade who’d always been able to stop her heart.

He filled up the room, just like he always had. He’d never been as big or tall as James. And while James’s sparkling personality and talent in sports made him the envy of every guy and the heartthrob of every girl in town, Laurel had always preferred Cade’s quiet good looks and shy smile.

She blinked, and the image of the boy turned into the reality of the man.

He stood, legs hip-width apart. Worn, perfectly fitting jeans emphasized his buttocks and muscled thighs. His fists were propped on his hips, which pulled the cotton of his Ole Miss T-shirt tight across his back. Under his baseball cap, his brown hair was dark with sweat.

He was surveying the crime scene, which was what she should be doing.

She forced her gaze away from him and looked at the floor where Misty had lain. Her brain queued up a stop-action movie of the crime, based on Misty’s position, the blood spatter and the condition of the house.

She put herself into the head of the attacker. I sneak up behind Misty and hit her while she’s sitting on the couch.

No. If Misty had been sitting, she’d have slumped over onto the couch, not fallen on the floor in front of it.