“Probably animals outside fussing about,” he says, waving the noise away. I notice his lip curling into a half smile. “We get cougars in the Highlands.”
I nod, though I can’t shake another chill. Strange—because I’ve always liked Leo, always trusted him. That’s what makes these feelings confusing. My mind protests, reminding me of all the memories of kindness, of laughter, of evenings spent together. And yet, suspicion continues to creep in. I press on, the real reason I’m here climbing up my throat. “So you didn’t see her the night she died? You didn’t go to her house?”
“What?” he asks, stiffening. He lets the silence hang for a few beats. “No. I haven’t been there in two years.”
I lay my cards on the table. “I heard she was with someone the night she died. A man.”
He adjusts in his seat, one leg crossing over the other, fingers lacing loosely on his knees. “Wasn’t me,” he says, shaking his head. “And I don’t know if she was seeing anyone else. When we did run into each other, we kept it casual. Catch-ups. You know how some friendships go, right?”
I do. But I ignore the loaded question. “Then why did you go down to the dock that morning?” I push, holding my breath.
“I’d just finished redoing the floors at the community center the week before,” he explains. “They’d been talking about replacing that old, dilapidated dock but decided to wait until spring. After that storm, I wanted to see if it had finally floated away.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to gauge him—figure out my next angle. Could he be hiding something, or was he always this precise, this careful by nature?
He looks around, thinking hard on something. Tapping his fingers against his knee, he leans forward, voice dropping slightly, conspiratorial. “You know… she was with someone at the Village Tavern around the last time I saw her. She was there a lot for lunch by herself, sometimes dinner. But in August, I noticed she was with a younger man—at the bar,” he says, biting his lip. “Tucked away at the end. Looked like they were having a private conversation, keeping it hushed.”
A younger man? I don’t have brothers or cousins or anyone who could match this basic profile.
I lean in. “Do you remember what he looked like?”
He thinks for a spell. “Darker hair. Around your age. Maybe older. I don’t remember. I hardly looked at him.” Watching my expression, Leo adds, “I doubt it was anything romantic—if that’s what you’re thinking. Just… conversation. She was at the tavern a lot—
liked talking to the bartender girl.”
“Did you get the sense that something was wrong? When was this?” I badger.
Leo shrugs, looking past my head in thought. “Ah… I don’t know. Day after, day before the lake event? I don’t go there much. When I did, I would usually see her. To be honest, I sometimes avoided it, knowing it was her spot.”
My brows pinch again. “Why would you avoid her?”
Leo tuts, his gaze softening. “I loved your mom. I didn’t want things to end, but it wasn’t working. Seeing her could be painful, I guess. I’m a hopeless romantic that way.”
And now his love—the one who got away—is gone forever.
I soften up, suddenly aware that his and Mom’s relationship was so much more than what I saw.
We stand together, and I close the space between us to embrace him in another hug. He holds me tight, and I frown at the thought that if Leo and Mom had stayed together, she may still be here. They could have grown old together, ensuring her a gallant life mate to pull her out from the isolated realm she often escaped to. Leo could have been the father I never had.
Instead, the once-realistic prospects are trapped in a faraway reality. Because something took her away from us.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling us out of a tender moment. I yank it out to see another text from Amelia.
Why are you in Blair Highlands?
Let me know when you’re coming home.
We could really use your help!
“It’s Amelia,” I say. “I’ll tell her you say hi.”
Leo smiles and nods, and we move into the foyer. “Please do. Anddon’t be a stranger, kiddo.” He opens the door, holding it as if he wants me to go. “I’m always here for you. I mean that.”
I step outside, the door closing behind me with a soft click that feels heavier than it should. A pang twists in my gut—part grief, part apprehension. His warmth felt genuine, but isn’t that how evil can take hold? How a wolf in sheep’s clothing can outsmart you?
As I cross the stone path, I glance back. He’s standing in the window now, watching, the light from the porch cutting his expression into shadow. My chest tightens. Stubborn intuition whispers that this might be the last time I see him—and I find myself hoping it is. Because if I never see Leo again, maybe that means he’s innocent.
I text Amelia back.
