“She’d have a very hard time, but...” He raked a hand through his hair, like he always did when thinking. “We should consider the possibility we could be looking at a pair of them. That would explain the two sets of footprints by the window—one large, one small. It would explain the sled and would give people alibis when they needed it by trading off.”
“So what woman was missing long enough to get Brady out to the overhang?” She thought it through. “I don’t see Amy as an accomplice, but I could be wrong. I don’t know her well, but I can’t see a kindergarten teacher dumping Brady’s body over the side of a cliff.”
“Did Heath hang with any particular women? Though he was so freaked out. Unless it was a really good act.”
“He hung with Amy occasionally—which I never could figure out because she’s so sweet, and Heath is Heath, but I still can’t see her killing anyone or aiding in it. Mia either, plus she hasn’t been out of the parlor because of the stitches on her legs.”
“Which leaves Penelope, Kendra, and Savannah,” Joel said. “We know Iz didn’t do it, and Savannah is too sweet natured. No way she’s a cold-blooded killer.”
“I can’t see Penelope doing it. She’s too proper to get her hands messy.”
“But she was alone in the room with Nat.”
“True. And her sleeping took her away from the group for a significant amount of time. What if she discovered the passages too?”
“All right. Penelope or Kendra. Let’s attack it this way. Which one entered our group about the same time your stalker letters started?”
“Let’s see. Penelope is family, while Devon introduced Kendra.”
“Have either Heath or Devon acted strange around you?”
“Strange, no. I mean...” She shrugged a shoulder. “They both asked me out. But, then again, so did Lyle.”
“They all asked you out after we broke up?”
“Yes. Well, no. Heath and Devon both asked me out before we started dating and then again after we broke up.”
Boards creaked behind the wall.
They both turned.
Time to get in there.
Someone was watching.
Twenty
CASSIE FOLLOWEDbehind Joel, the boards squeaking beneath them at junctures, foreboding trickling through her at who they might find. Who her stalker was. But whoever it was had disappeared, though clues might remain.
They began in the passageway that wound throughout the lodge—along the bedrooms, out through the kitchen, into halls, down to the cellar, and up to the top floor based on the stairs they passed within it.
The light from their flashlights bounced off the wall as they crept along. She paused to look through a slat into the hallway. Lyle walked by, and she stiffened. As one of Talbot’s cousins, they hadn’t really considered him deeply, but what if he was her stalker? But her stalker got in and out of her home undetected, always knew every aspect of her life—or so it seemed. He was good. Really good. It was like he had inside knowledge.
She froze.
Devon. CSI.
No. He was a suspect, of course, but of the small group of possibilities, he was her friend. They chatted at work, spent time together. He’d been there for her after she’d had to walk away from Joel. Just as a friend. Only a friend, but what if he viewed it as more?
She stepped back to share with Joel but found herself standing alone in the dark—only her faint flashlight keeping her from being swallowed by it.
Creaking boards sounded upstairs, and she climbed the steps, hoping to find Joel. Instead, she found her way to what was apparently Heath and Devon’s room—both their packs rested on the floor. Heath’s was white with lightning bolts, mature man that he was. Devon’s bag was plain black and streamlined, just like the man. She moved forward, the sensation of being watched crawling up her spine. Turning, she spotted nothing, so she faced back around and moved for the first pack.
I watched her through the register from the other side of the wall. I’d never considered myself a voyeur, but seeing her this way was tantalizing. I wanted her to know me. Therealme—the one enraptured with her. But, then again, she did know me. I’d poured out my heart and soul in my letters to her. Worked with her daily. Asked her out more than once, but she always turned me down.
Heat seared inside, bitterness biting. She refused me because she was clearly still in love with Joel. I gripped the kitchen knife in my hand, fighting the urge to lash out. To slice Cassie’s throat for being unfaithful. But it was Joel who was the problem. If I removed Joel from the picture, that love would cease. Then she’d see how deeply I loved her—the lengths I’d gone to for her. Waiting in the shadows. Always watching. Always there and she never noticed. Always pining after Joel. I gripped the knife harder. I was far superior to Joel. Once he was out of the picture, she wouldn’t be able to help but love me.
She moved for Heath’s pack. She seriously thought that Neanderthal was her shadow? My skin heated the perspiration clinging to my neck.
