“What’s up?” I ask when we catch up to Kate. We have a class together. Georgia smiles and shakes her head, always teasing me about knowing everyone even if I’ve only been here a short time.
“Police,” Kate says, eyes wide. “Down by the lake. My cousin just sent a video. They’ve got the whole area taped off with tents everywhere.”
“There is so much yellow tape,” her friend Nora adds, scrolling. “Someone posted on the town’s Facebook page. They said they saw a body bag.”
The news ripples through the crowd in real time. Texts are pinging, Snaps are opening, and voices are rising. In a town this small, horror travels at the speed of Wi-Fi.
Georgia’s fingers dig into my arm. We exchange a look. They found her. Murphy.
I need to find Luke. Now.
We went from the police finding Murphy to Emily showing up in town. That can’t be a coincidence. I want to know who Emily still talks to here and why she’s back. She’s not from here.
Luke and Grant come around the corner of the humanities building. Luke’s blazer is a bit wrinkled, his tie loose, and his hair still damp from a shower. He must have rushed out of practice to make it here. I wonder if they’ve heard the rumors.
“Hey.” I step forward and smile at him. “I got you this.” I hand him the sandwich. Suddenly, I feel awkward, and I’m not sure why.
Luke takes it without looking and gives me a quick kiss. Then he stops to actually see what I gave him.
“Just a sandwich; I thought you might be hungry.”
He just stares for a moment, like he’s not used to someone doing something small for him. Then he smiles. He could probably buy the bakery, the block, maybe even the whole town,but this simple thing makes him happy. Maybe no one does little things for him. He’s been on his own so long he doesn’t know how to react when someone else tries.
“Thanks, Buttercup.” He kisses me again, this time a little longer. We only stop when Grant clears his throat.
“I think the police found Murphy,” Luke says, confirming what I already know.
“Emily’s back. She’s in town.” I share my own news. Luke’s hand on my hip tightens. Grant mutters a curse, and Georgia is already typing quickly on her phone.
We all move closer to the building to get some space from the crowd.
“Are they sure it’s Murphy?” I ask.
“Who else would it be?” Grant asks.
“The serial killer’s other victim,” Georgia says.
“Oh my God, let’s not make this worse. I’m going to ban you from listening to crime podcasts.”
“You’re a bloodthirsty little thing,” Grant says to Georgia, looking down at her. He’s always watching her, even when he acts like he isn’t.
“I’m not little,” she huffs, still focused on her phone so she doesn’t have to look at him.
“Yeah, you are.” Georgia’s curvy, and her curves are amazing, but she’s short—pint-sized.
“Everyone looks small next to you two.” It’s true. I’m tall myself, but they still tower over me. “Class is about to start,” Georgia reminds us.
Class is the last thing on my mind right now. “What are you thinking, Buttercup?” Luke asks. I look up at him, and as usual, he’s watching me.
“We should split up and tackle things separately.”
“We’re not splitting up.” Luke’s expression changes.
“Class,” Georgia reminds us, clearly not wanting to be late.
“I meant we should split up the tasks.”
“I’m going to talk to my brother,” Luke says. “Maybe he knows what the cops found.”
