“It really is,” Jasmine gushed. She pulled out a flyer from her shoulder tote. “You should check it out yourself. We have get-togethers regularly. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
Stefanie took the flyer out of courtesy but didn’t imagine it was something she would pursue. Even if she had no problem with camaraderie among like-minded individuals, per se. She had enough on her plate for the time being. “Maybe I will give it a try,” she told her nonetheless.
“Cool.” Jasmine gave her a toothy smile. “What’s your name?”
“Stefanie.”
“Well, Stefanie, hope to see you there.” She walked away, only to approach someone else with the same obviously rehearsed but convincing lines.
Stefanie watched briefly in amusement as she stuck the flyer in the pocket of her pants, not wanting to litter. She would dispose of it later.
Turning her attention to the stage, Stefanie regarded Bella, who was in the process of charming her audience in a cool-headed, relatable way by masterfully bridging the past to the present on Founder’s Day.
“My great-grandfather Arthur Reston had a vision when he founded the town that bears his name, Reston Hills, more than a century ago,” Bella was saying. “He wanted this to be a place where hardworking, family-loving, God-fearing Americans could make a good life for themselves—make thatgreat—symbolizing the spirit of community that we’ve all come to love and cherish. My grandfather Malcolm Reston dutifully followed in his mighty footsteps, in promoting the town and its core values. My late father, Stuart Reston, stepped into theirshoes with the same dedication. And now it’s my turn to make them all proud—and you, too. Let’s make sure that the rich tradition we all embody in Reston Hills shall live on as we celebrate another marvelous Founder’s Day—”
Stefanie grinned at a job well done by her friend as Bella received applause before leaving the stage and circulating among the townsfolk dutifully while the musicians returned.
I think this is a good time for some me time, Stefanie told herself as she meandered her way through the crowd, seemingly unnoticed by most, who were too caught up in themselves or each other. She headed toward a part of the park near the river that was less likely to be too occupied while the festivities were underway. She had no problem with any mild-mannered wildlife she might encounter.I won’t complain if some western meadowlarks want to sing to me, she thought wittily.
Just as she started to head down a trail, Stefanie was stopped cold as she came upon a naked body. It was that of a young and slender white female with dark, short hair and small breasts. She was lying flat on her back atop some undergrowth. What looked to be initials were noticeably tattooed on her pale right forearm, as if to make a statement.
Sucking in a deep breath, Stefanie could only imagine how the pretty twentysomething woman had ended up there without any clothes on. But she didn’t need much imagination to believe that she was looking at the pallid face of a corpse.
* * *
RESTONHILLSPOLICEDEPARTMENTDetective Campbell Sawyer sat at the counter of Harriette’s Café on PickfordStreet, named for its longtime owner Harriette Yardley, musingly sipping coffee with a dash of cream. He probably should have been at the Founder’s Day celebration like a number of his coworkers—some on duty, others off—but he figured they could survive without him. Not that he hadn’t attended enough of them since he was five years old—probably too many to count.
But it was different now. Or seemed that way. He simply couldn’t muster up the same enthusiasm from years past to be an active participant. Even if he was proud to be a member of the community, which was thriving insofar as relatively small towns could thrive. Reston Hills was in Eckerslin County—one hundred and seventy-five miles from Boise, but it might as well be a thousand miles away with regard to its down-to-earth, laidback lifestyle where people largely stayed out of other people’s business unless invited in.
He should know. Prior to the last three and a half years, he had lived in Boise, where Campbell worked for the Boise Police Department as a detective in the Criminal Investigation Division’s Violent Crimes Unit, Narcotics Unit and Crimes Against Children division at varying times during his ten-plus years with the force. Prior to that, he had attended Boise State University, where he’d received a Bachelor of Science degree in Criminal Justice.
But burnout and a high-stress environment, along with a longing to reestablish roots in his hometown, brought him back to Reston Hills. The fact that there was an opening at the detective level with the Reston Hills PD’s Investigation Division, for which he came highly recommended by his former boss, Captain Mick Fernandez, made it a done deal.
Campbell hadn’t looked back, having settled into life again in Reston Hills—now at age thirty-six, with few complaints to speak of. He had reconnected with his father, Mason Sawyer, a retired police detective who had a horse ranch not far from town. Though they hadn’t always seen eye to eye, the real love and respect had been there throughout. Especially after Campbell had lost his mother, Alyssa Sawyer, a decade ago to breast cancer. He and his father had taken it hard, neither seeming to find the right words to say to each other in dealing with the death. But they had slowly worked their way through and come to terms with it.
Campbell ran a hand through his black hair, which was cut short but was long enough to appreciate. He put the coffee mug to his lips, just below a Dallas mustache. About the only thing missing at the moment in his life was romance. Or something resembling an intimate relationship. Since breaking up with his last girlfriend, Naomi Espelita, while still living in Boise, he’d remained frustratingly single, with only an occasional date here and there to fill the void of loneliness unsuccessfully.
Oh well, I’ll just have to wait it out till the right woman comes along and let the chips fall where they may—hoping they fall in the right direction, toward a real future together, Campbell thought, finishing up the coffee.
No sooner had he set the empty cup on the counter when the waitress was before him almost on cue with the pot of coffee in her hand.
“Care for a refill?” she asked, a flirtatious smile playing on her full lips.
Campbell cast his blue eyes at Sarah Huffstetler, in her late twenties and voluptuous inside the tight taupe uniform.She had thick blond hair with parted bangs. They had gone out on exactly one date, which was all it took for him to realize they weren’t meant for each other. Though he had expressed this in the nicest way possible, he suspected she may have felt otherwise and had apparently not gotten the message.
He gave a sideways grin and, lifting a hand as if to ward off a blow, responded, “Thanks, Sarah, but I’m good.”
She looked disappointed but seemed to recover quickly. “Had to ask.”
“I know, and I appreciate the service.” Campbell stood to his full height of six feet, two and three-quarter inches, towering over her at just over five feet tall. “See you next time around.”
Sarah licked her lips invitingly. “I’ll be here.”
That’s what I’m afraid of, he thought sardonically, but actually had no problem with them being on friendly terms, even a little flirtatious from her end. So long as it went no further than that.
After stepping outside into the fresh—albeit a bit humid—air and bright sunshine, while feeling this was perfect weather for the Founder’s Day events, Campbell’s cell phone rang. He removed it from the back pocket of his tweed pants and answered in his strong detective’s voice, “Yeah?”
“We got a report of a dead naked female in Reston Hills Park,” the dispatcher said tonelessly, as if it was no big deal.
