“Playboy?” Liam had the gall to look offended. “Just because a man likes to have fun and enjoy life doesn’t mean he’s insincere or flippant with his feelings. Some people may look a certain way on the outside, but inside they feel just as deeply as... Never mind. It doesn’t even matter.” His voice trailed away on a whisper of regret, the words sounding sad and vulnerable. It was impossible to miss the haunted look in his eyes.
All Cora’s annoyance suddenly evaporated. “What is it?”
He swallowed visibly, then looked out the window in silence.
If Cora didn’t know any better, she’d say Liam was grieving. His shoulders were slumped, and his gaze seemed a million miles away. Maybe he was hurting because of his recently ended affair with the widow Margaret Brady. Liam and Margaret’s secret relationship was discovered after her husband was mysteriously murdered. For a while Liam had been a suspect in the investigation, and he’d almost lost his job with the Providence Falls Police Department because he’d kept his affair with Margaret a secret. Once his alibi had been confirmed and his name was cleared, everything seemed to go back to normal, but Cora suspected there was more to Liam than he pretended. Maybe all his arrogant swagger was just a facade, and he was really dealing with a broken heart.
“You might be surprised to find some men want the same things you do, Cora,” he finally said. “And they just need the chance to prove it.”
Cora sighed. “Suzette said the same thing to me last Saturday night.”
“Well, there you go. If you don’t want to listen to me, then listen to your very wise friend.”
“I don’t usually equate wisdom on dating with Suzette, but maybe she’s right.” Cora shrugged. “I guess I’ll consider it.”
“Good.” He paused. “Wait, what?”
“I mean, she did give him my number.” Cora took the next exit toward the road leading to the motorcycle compound.
Liam’s head whipped around. “Who?”
“And he was sort of charming,” she mused, switching lanes as they approached the intersection. “In a whole my-what-big-eyes-you-have type of way. He’s really more Suzette’s type, and she even said as much, but since she’s dating someone else right now—”
Her phone rang, the shrill sound filling the car.
Liam sat up straighter. “Who are you talking about?”
She flicked a glance at him. “Magnus. Who else?” Then she pushed the button on her audio speaker. “McLeod.”
“Get out to the jogging trail behind Wilson’s house.” Captain Thompson’s voice blared through the car speakers.
“But we’re almost to Lindsey’s—”
“She won’t be there,” the captain said curtly. “Lindsey Albright was found in the woods thirty minutes ago. Dead.”
Cora gasped. “Are you—”
“We’re sure. Just get out here,” he barked, before hanging up.
Cora looked at Liam in disbelief.
His eyes were filled with storm clouds and a thousand dark emotions.
She felt the same way. Another murder. In all the years she’d worked on the Providence Falls police force, they’d never had two so close together. This morning Cora had hoped Lindsey would help them get one step closer to solving the murder of John Brady, but now the poor girl was dead, too. Were their deaths connected? If so, how?
Punching the gas with enough speed to impress even Liam, Cora made a screeching U-turn at the intersection. Her mind boomeranged back and forth between every possible explanation, but no matter how she spun it, only one fact remained clear. Everything just got a hell of a lot more complicated, and she had a feeling it was only going to get worse.
3
Mrs. Wilson’s house was part of an old bedroom community called Glen Acres, built back when JELL-O molds were the ultimate party food and automobiles came standard with built-in ashtrays. Ramblers and split-level homes lined the narrow streets like retired railway cars in shades of rust and moss. The postage stamp–size yards were varied, some surrounded by low, chain-link fences and potted plants, others with overgrown weeds and random bits of furniture lurking in the tall grass. Cora never liked lingering in this part of town if she could help it. The neighborhood always felt so stale and forgotten, as if time had swept through the world like a giant broom, but somehow missed this one spot, leaving it to roll into obscurity like a dust mote under the couch.
“I told you it was an emergency, young man.” Mrs. Wilson’s cranky voice could be heard from her front yard as Cora and Liam approached. There were three police cars and an ambulance parked at angles along the street, and a few neighbors milling on the sidewalk. “That dog’s been barking all night. Why it took y’all so long to get out here, I’m sure I don’t know.”
Rob Hopper nodded politely at the old woman as she ranted. From the slump of his shoulders and the tight lines around his mouth, Cora could tell Rob had been there for a while.
“It’s like I always say, this neighborhood has gone to the birds.” Mrs. Wilson’s head shook, threatening to dislodge the three rollers clinging to the wisps of hair near her ears. Hands on hips, she stared at Rob through crinkled, watery eyes. Even though she was wearing a floral housedress and velour slippers, she still somehow managed to look like a stern school principal reprimanding a wayward student. “When my Ansel was alive, people here were decent, God-fearing folks. Now there’s nothing left but a bunch of no-good rabble-rousers. And what do we get for it? Murder!” Her shrill voice rose, and she threw her hands in the air. “Murder, that’s what!”
An audible gasp followed by hushed, frantic voices came from the neighbors across the street.
Mrs. Wilson’s face had turned an alarming shade of red, and her mouth kept opening and closing as if she was at a loss for words, but Cora knew they weren’t going to be that lucky.
Rob gently ushered the old woman toward her front door. “Why don’t we go back into the house, and you can tell me more.” He caught sight of Cora and Liam and threw them an exasperated look before jerking his head toward the backyard. “The jogging trail’s just beyond those trees,” he told them, pointing into the woods.
Liam barreled through the yard and into the greenbelt behind the house, his back ramrod straight. He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, and he seemed deeply agitated.
Cora hurried to catch up with him. “You all right?” He hadn’t said much since Captain Thompson’s phone call.
“Fine.” He didn’t seem fine, but maybe the news of Lindsey’s murder was just hitting him hard. It was understandable. Cora was fiercely protective of her beloved town and the people in it. It was the reason she’d joined the police force in the first place. Anytime a tragedy like this happened, it pierced through her mental armor, but it was something she’d learned to compartmentalize. Years of growing up with her police captain father had taught her how important it was to stay focused on the job, even when a wave of emotional turmoil threatened to pull her under. But not everyone was good at it, and even Cora struggled sometimes. Maybe Liam just needed a breather.