Every part of Ethan rebelled against the idea. Was it possible? Could Jay really have killed someone to have an excuse to come to Deep River?
“I checked with her commander,” Joel said. “Her story checks out. She took a leave to come here, and her leave date gave her time to take and kill Priya.”
Fuck.
A Facebook message from Maggie came through on his phone. It popped up at the top of the screen before disappearing, but the first line made him frown.
“I’ve got to go,” he said quickly to his team. “Joel, let me know if you find anything.”
He hung up and opened the message.
Maggie: I thought I could do this, but I can’t. Being back here has reminded me of Mom and the guilt of her death is suffocating. I’m hurting and it’s all too much. I’m sorry.
Shock made him go completely still.
Then he shook his head.
No. This message didn’t make sense. He’d seen Maggie less than thirty minutes ago, and she’d been fine. This message wasn’t from her. It couldn’t be.
But then…who was it from?
He hit Maggie’s phone number. It rang out. He tried again.
Dread filled his chest when she didn’t answer.
When a call from Joel came through, he answered immediately. “Joel?—”
“I know who’s been messing with Maggie.”
Joel Dawson leanedback in the driver’s seat, the broad canopy of the maple tree covering most of his truck.
Not all of it. He could still see Jay’s Airbnb. She’d walked past the window a couple of times, and the rental car was parked out front, so he knew she was home.
His cell rang. He tensed when he saw who it was.
Mom.
And he knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. The same thing she always wanted to talk about.
He wasn’t in the fucking mood. Not right now. Hell, not ever.
He let the call go to voice mail. Immediately, it started again.
Jesus. The woman didn’t give up. You’d think after he’d spent over a decade in the military, she’d get the message that her plans for him weren’t going to eventuate.
Apparently not.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, turning back to the house. Why the hell he’d even gone back home for the last year, he had no fucking clue. Because he’d actually thought his parents had changed?
That sure as hell hadn’t happened. If anything, they were worse. That was what money and too much power did to people. He wanted as far away from all of that as possible.
He was looking at the house when a text came through. At first, he assumed it would be his mother again. It wasn’t. It was an unknown number.
He opened the text.
Unknown: Did you hit on my barista yesterday?
He frowned. Unless this was Basil, there was only one other person it could be.
