

The Letters

Ella Drayton

To my amazing husband,

Thank you for making life suck a lot less

To my beautiful children,

My life would mean nothing without the two of you in it. I hope one day that the two of you can be as proud of me as I am of you.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and places are a part of the author's imagination or wore used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events, or locales is coincidental.

Copyright 2015 Tiffany Brown

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission from the author.

One Point for WASP-y Satan

There are good days, bad days, and days where you want to take a crowbar to everything in your house that has glass to shatter. This was one of the latter. When I woke up this morning I was fully prepared to sit around in my sweatpants and a t-shirt with my hair pulled up lying on my couch eating mint Oreos, drinking copious amounts of Dr. Pepper, and binge-watching all of my favorite shows on Netflix. Little did I know that my best friend was going to pick today to not only let me know that he was getting married but he was also going to set me up plotting with his mother to get me and my ex-boyfriend back together. I wanted peace and quiet while my daughter was at her grandparents' house and I had an actual day off of work.

After a delicious breakfast of cold leftover pizza from last night's dinner, I arranged all of the drinks and snacks I thought I would need for the day and flopped down on the couch. Some reality housewives show was playing on my TV while I was scrolling through my twitter feed. I had apparently gotten comfortable on the couch because I fell quickly back asleep. It seemed like only a few minutes had gone by before I had found myself dreaming about being snowed in at cabin in the mountains with a young Frank Sinatra serenading me while I licked chocolate chips off of his stomach. Right before I reached his lips, my phone rang and woke me up.

"If you're not dead or on fire, stop calling me!"

"Dreaming of Old Blue Eyes in the mountains again, hmm? You're so sexy when you're being a bitch."

"First of all, don't judge my affair with Frankie. Second of all, Walker, no matter how much you sweet-talk me, sugar, I'm still not going to let you see me naked."

"That phone takes pictures. I don't even have to be in the room. Just a little pink never hurt anyone."

"You're disgusting."

"Yet highly appealing to so many women."

"What do you want?"

"Feel like company?"

"No."

"Too bad. I'm at your front door."

"Go away."

"I'm using the key."

"Shove that key up your ass."

I heard the phone go dead and then my front door opening. Walker had been my best friend since junior high. I had given him that key after my husband, Grayson, had been kidnapped and killed by a man who had been stalking me. His body was found on our fifth wedding anniversary.

I decided since Walker was already in my house and there was no chance of going back to sleep, I might as well get up off the couch. I walked into the bathroom and flipped the switch nearly burning my eyes with the fluorescent light that flooded the room. As I was about to brush my teeth, he appeared behind me in the mirror. Walker, who was a chubby kid in high school, had become a muscular gym rat. He traded in his shaggy brown hair for a bald head, stopped fighting the beard that kept trying to grow (he kept it very closely shaved, however), and wore most of his designer clothes so tight that you didn't have to imagine what that muscular body might look like without them. At nine forty-five in the morning, he looked like an Abercrombie model in his light pink button down shirt and faded jeans with the holes strategically placed down the legs. I looked like shit.

"You're really rocking that whole t-shirt and sweatpants look. Nice bun, too, grandma."

"Who left your cage open?"

"I was just wondering how you comb your hair so the horns don't show."

"Gee, you're hilarious. Have you ever thought about doing stand-up? What do you want? This is supposed to be my off day. As in, I'm off from everything. I do not exist to the rest of the world. It's just supposed to be a ménage trio between me, the couch, and my TV."

"A ménage, huh? I didn't know you were into such kink. I could make that a lot more fun for you, you know?

"Oh, Walker," I said between strokes of my toothbrush. "I'm not your type, sugar. I'm not inflatable."

"I wish there were words to describe how much of an ass you are.""

"There are. They just aren't covered in 'Run, Spot, Run' so you're not familiar with them."

"Ha Ha. Wash your face and let's get something to eat. My treat?"

My eyebrows shot up and I stopped wiping my mouth on my towel. Walker was apparently up to no good. He never offered to pay for anything else he was trying to talk me into something or sweeten the blow of something he'd done. He'd purchased my senior prom dress and brought it to my house in the hopes that I wouldn't be pissed at him for breaking my dates nose two days before the prom. I can also remember two separate occasions that he paid for a weekend vacation at the beach to make up for backing into my car and for setting my custom built shooting house on fire. The stories of how these two instances actually came about were still kind of vague. Needless to say, Walker was an accident waiting to happen and believed that money could smooth anything over.

"Your treat means something is up."

"You always were a smart one. Hurry up."

He grinned at me in the mirror and popped me on the ass as he walked out. I quickly washed my face, brushed my unruly hair, grabbed a pair of BKE jeans, a black tank left over from my days at Old Navy, and pair of mismatched socks ( one green and one pink) and my high-stop Chuck Taylor's. I really need to do some laundry. Walker was in the living room playing with Roscoe, the black and white Great Dane I had rescued from a drug dealer last year. Roscoe, who knows he isn't supposed to be on the couch, jumped up and ran into the kitchen with his tail between his legs as soon as I walked in the living room.

"Let's get this over with."

"Brodie, I understand you're a tough guy but do you own any clothes that don't make you look like a butch?"

"Do you own any clothes that didn't come from Baby Gap?"

He shot me a go-to-hell look as I put Roscoe in the backyard. After I made sure all the lights were off and doors were locked, we got into his obnoxious yellow Hummer and made our way into town. Although I worked in Birmingham, I still lived thirty minutes away in Woodstock where I had grown up. loved my job and the people I worked with but I hated city life. It was too cramped and crowded. Living out in the country with miles between me and my neighbors was bliss for me. Especially when I could walk right off my back porch and go fishing or hunting depending on the season. We made our way out of the dense woods my little log haven was settled in and I closed my eyes hoping to go back to sleep.

"We're going to eat with my mom, by the way."

"What?"

"And Chelsea."

"What? Stop this car right now! What the hell is your problem?"

"Brodie! Come on, what's wrong?"

I shot up in my seat and turned, staring at him in disbelief. His mother, Audrey Sawyer, was the most pretentious bitch I had ever met in my life. She thought not only did her shit not stink but that it was also sweet enough to eat as well. She also thought that I was secretly in love with Walker and did everything she could to try to embarrass me or make me uncomfortable. Chelsea Harper was Walker's current "love-of-his-life". She just turned twenty-one last year. He and I met her the night of her birthday. We were having drinks at Wilhagan's in Tuscaloosa, near the University of Alabama, when she and her drunken sorority sisters came in looking for a few good men to have a good time. Walker was immediately smitten. The rest is history.

"What's wrong? Gee, I don't know. Maybe you should have mentioned that before we left my house."

"If I had, you wouldn't have come."

"Exactly!"

"Ugh, dude! Chill out! They're not that bad!"

"Says you, spawn of WASP-y Satan who is in love with smaller WASP-y Satan."

"Brodie -"

He stopped and busted out laughing. I sat there watching him as he kept laughing. Four different ways to kill and dispose of him crossed my mind by the time he finally stopped.

"Brodie, please just go and be cool. For me? Bestest buddy?"

"Fine. But I hate you and I hope your dick falls off. Where are you meeting them?"

"Uh...."

"Walker?"

"Mom picked the place."

"Okay?"

"Because she thought it would do you some good to —"

"Oh, no. We're going to Manhattan, aren't we?"

"Yep."

I punched him in his arm and turned to stare out the window. We were almost to Hoover, where my ex-boyfriend's restaurant, Manhattan, was located. Keaton and I had met while Grayson was still alive. He had hired Grayson's construction company to build a mini high-rise to house the restaurant. Grayson had played basketball his entire life and was always inviting men to come and play with his friends. After finding out that six-foot-four Keaton had played basketball for Duke University, Grayson couldn't help himself and challenged Keaton to a game. Keaton mopped the floor with him and they had been friends ever since.

When Grayson died, Keaton was one of the first of his friends to show up at the house to help me make arrangements and take care of my precious daughter, Braelynn. She was only five years old at the time and didn't really understand what was happening. A year later we were dating. A year after that he moved in. A year after that he asked me to marry him. I said no, realizing that I was with him more out of convenience than love. We hadn't really spoken since. That was almost two years ago.

"Your mom thought it would do me some good to see Keaton. How thoughtful."

"We're here. Be nice."

"If I had a dick I'd whip it out and slap you across the face with it."

"See, sweet as honey. Now stop it and really be nice. This is important to me."

The inside of Manhattan was a lot of black and white and silver. The waitresses donned black cocktail dresses and the waiters wore black button down shirts with silver ties and black slacks. The floor was black marble and the walls had silver brocade wallpaper. The bar in the center of the restaurant was made out of the same black marble as the floors with white cushioned, backless stools placed in front. Behind the bar was a wall of mirrors with shelves filled with top-shelf alcohol. You would not find a cheap drink here. It was a very classy place and I clashed in my casual tank and worn out jeans.

Walker spotted his mom and Chelsea at a corner table near the front of the restaurant and shoved me in their direction. They were both frail, petite women with perfect tans and perfect blond hair. Both were wearing similar peach sun-dresses. The only differences between the two was that Audrey's diamonds that dangled from her old wrinkled ear lobes and wrapped around her long, slender, paper bag fingers. Chelsea skipped the diamonds and wore a simple strand of white pearls. I could have thrown up.

The table was dressed with a silver table cloth, black napkins, and an arrangement of white roses in a black vase in the middle. I carefully waited for Walker to choose a seat before I lowered myself down onto one of the black leather, high-backed, armless chairs. He dutifully sat next to mommy dearest putting me between him and Chelsea.

"Mom, you're looking beautiful as always. Chelsea, dear, how has your day been?"

"Oh, fabulous, your mom took me to this fabulous dress shop downtown and then we —"

"Brodie, darling —"

Oh, shit. She was starting already. This women made me pray for hemorrhoids. I looked down at my menu, pretending to be engrossed in the appetizer section. Buffalo wings? Maybe this day hasn't gone to shit after all.

"Yes, Audrey?" I said, never looking up from my menu.

"You couldn't find something better to wear? How are you ever going to find a man dressed like that?"

"You're slipping, Audrey. Usually, when we meet you already have men lined up for me."

"It's so tiring trying to make you happy, dear. Just clean up a little bit. It wouldn't hurt you to wear a dress, you know."

"I think I do just fine the way I am but thank you for being so concerned about my happiness."

Before she could say anything else a handsome young man in his early twenties approached the table. His skin was the color of my favorite brown suede jacket home and looked just as smooth. He had bright, grass green eyes and long slender, manicured fingers that were playing with the order book he was holding. His mega-watt smile was so distracting that I couldn't even remember what I wanted to order. I wondered if he was single. I could entertain the thought of being a cougar if someone as gorgeous as him was my prey.

"Good afternoon. My name is Channing and I'll be your server. Can I start you all off with our signature Manhattan Sky Line?"

"Channing? What a charming name! This doll and I will have the Manhattan. He will have a diet coke. Brodie?"

"Channing, darling, I'll have a Coors Light. In a bottle, please." I flashed him my most flirtatious smile and winked before turning my gaze on Audrey.

I thought Audrey was going to hit the floor. I slouched down in my chair and stuck my hands in my pocket. One point for me. She was shooting daggers at me over her menu. As long as I had known her she had been the president of the Junior League a consultant for Mrs. Eady's Charm School downtown. She was the epitome of southern gentility. Her disdain for me and my bad manners was as easy to see as mud on a pig.

"Oh, and Channing, be a sweetheart and send Keaton out, please?"

She purred like a fat cat after it just emptied the fish bowl. I was just waiting for her to lick her paw in satisfaction. One point for WASP-y Satan. Walker and Chelsea wisely chose to remain silent, both busying themselves with their phones. More than likely they were texting each other. Audrey proudly watched as the kitchen doors opened and Keaton Maddox stepped out.

I felt my breath catch in my chest and knew instantly that I had been wrong to let him go. The shoulder length brown hair he'd had when we were together was now short and spikey. The new haircut brought more attention to his honey brown eyes and his razor-sharp cheekbones. Staying true to the theme, he was wearing the exact same thing the waiters wore. And wing-tipped shoes. He had never looked more gorgeous.

"Audrey, Chelsea, I believe the Manhattan's are yours."

"The diet coke is mine, Key."

"I know. I had no doubt who belonged to the Coors. Brodie, it's nice to see you."

"The place looks great. I love the new uniforms."

"Audrey's idea actually, but thank you. Would you guys like to place your order now?"

I focused my attention on the menu to keep from staring at Keaton. I wasn't really hungry but I pretended like I was starving and couldn't make up my mind just so I could stare at the menu a little longer to avoid making eye contact with him. I was such a coward..

"Brodie?"

"Hmm?"

"Buffalo wings? Ranch dressing? Celery sticks?"

"Sounds good. How did you know?"

"Brodie, you're predictable, if nothing else."

"Okay, Keaton. If you say so."

"Can we talk?"

"Aren't we?"

"Alone, Brodie."

"Don't do this, Keaton. Not here, please."

Our audience pretended to exchange small talk so that we wouldn't think they were eavesdropping. He stared at me with lost puppy dog eyes and I wanted to disappear into the black marble floor. Keaton finally collected the menus and walked back towards the silver doors that lead to the kitchen. He stopped to place the menus behind the bar, looked back at our table, and disappeared into the kitchen.

I looked out the window and watched cars going up and down the highway. I was being a coward now just like I had been almost two years ago. He wanted to talk but I was scared to know what he had to say. Keaton wanted to get married but I didn't want to lose someone else so I didn't want to get any closer. The night Keaton proposed we were in St. Louis, Missouri. He had flown me out there to see a St. Louis Cardinals baseball game. The Cardinals had been my favorite team since I was a kid. After the game was over, we went back to the hotel room to pack our bags so that we could catch our flight home. Keaton wanted to stay another night. I wanted to go home to Braelynn.

It sparked the most ridiculous argument and we actually went to the airport in separate cabs. We didn't see each other again until we were seated next to each other on the plane. At that point I was so mad that I refused to talk to him and had already put on my head phones and closed my eyes to go to sleep. Right before the plane was about to take off, a stewardess tapped me on the shoulder asking me if I had dropped a small box which she was holding in her hand. Before I could answer her Keaton started checking his pockets and began cursing. I took the box from her, asking him what was wrong, and when I opened the box a large diamond ring was staring back at me. He grabbed my hand, kissed it, and said 'Marry me?'. I cried all the way to Alabama because I knew I was going to say no. He moved out the next day and we hadn't spoken since. I told myself that I had done the right thing and that in time he would believe it too. I was beginning to think I was wrong.

'Walker, honey, do you want to tell Brodie why you invited her to lunch with us?"

Chelsea's voice brought me back to reality as Keaton and Charming Channing were placing our plates in front of us. He was avoiding any eye contact with me as he made his way around the table. I could smell his cologne as he walked by me and I felt my throat closing up. The tears welling up in my eyes were threatening to betray me and roll down my face.

"Well, Brodie, you're my best friend."

"Walker, just cut the shit. What is it?"

"Chelsea and I are getting married."

I nearly dropped my beer as I heard Keaton mutter something about someone make a commitment. I turned back to Walker and Chelsea who were holding hands across the table. I always thought I would laugh at this moment but Walker was serious. And seriously happy.

"Am I supposed to be surprised? Congratulations to you for finding a wonderful woman who will actually put up with you. And to you, Chelsea, congrats on turning Walker into a one-woman man. Many have tried and failed."

"Thank you, Brodie. I love him more than anything. I was a little worried at first when I found out that you were his best friend but after meeting you I know I have nothing to worry about. That being said, I, well, Walker and I, would like you to be in the wedding."

"Yeah," Walker smirked. "You can be the flower girl!"

"And you can eat a di —"

"Brodie Barrett! You are in public! I understand that you do not live your life like a lady, but at least pretend to be one when in a place such as this."

"Audrey, as far as I'm concerned , you can eat it, too. Walker, Chelsea, I appreciate the gesture, but I know that you don't really want me in the wedding, nor do I want to be in it. I think I've had enough fun for the day. Chelsea, so nice to see you. Audrey, always a pleasure. Walker, I'll see you later."

Throwing down my napkin, I excused myself from the table. On my way to the front door I realized that I had ridden with Walker and had no way home. Just as I was about to walk out the door I saw Keaton out of the corner of my eye standing at the bar watching me. I could ask him to take me home if I had the balls to talk with him. It can't be that bad. Nothing he had to say could possibly be that bad. I turned around and headed towards the long black and silver bar. He pretended to be busy washing glasses as I approached the bar.

"Keaton?"

"Yes? Another beer?"

"No. Take me home?"

"What? I thought you were eating with Walker? Something wrong with the food?"

"No. Something is wrong with the company. Please take me home. I rode with Walker so I have no way home unless I go back to that table and let Audrey beat me into the ground until lunch is over. Besides, you want to talk to me. One hour of your time, please?"

He set the glass he had been scrubbing down on the bar and tossed the black dish towel hanging on his shoulder into a bin behind the bar. I watched Keaton in the mirror as he talked with a tall brunette cocktail waitress. She was easily six foot tall and had boobs as big as my head. The black dress she was wearing cut low in the front and high on the left side above her leg. The dress stopped just a few inches below her butt. She put her hand on his arm, shaking her head at him. Whatever he had said to her had not made her happy.

I watched as Keaton pulled away from her and she turned to watch him walk towards me. He grabbed his keys, grabbed me by the arm, and walked me out of the floor. He continued to drag me through the parking lot to his dark blue Jeep.

"Is there a reason you're man-handling me? I would have walked willingly. I'm the one who asked for a ride."

"Just get in."

The ride out of town was weighed down with awkward silence. I fidgeted with the door handle, my fingernails, anything within reach. Keaton kept clearing his throat like he was going to say something but then he would get quiet.

"You going to talk to me or not?"

"I'm not sure what to say."  
"What do you mean? You said you wanted to talk to me, so talk."

"I still love you."

"Does your girlfriend know that?"

"How did you know I had a girlfriend?" He whipped his around to look at me with wide eyes.

"I'm not stupid. The pissed off girl at the bar? She looks like your type."  
"Whatever. It doesn't matter. Brodie, I love you."

"Keaton, --"

"Brodie, just stop. I know what you're going to say. You're going to make a whole shitload of excuses why we can't be together and why I don't really love you. And you're more full of shit now than you were on that fucking plane. You're going to find every excuse in the world to run away."

I sat there in silence, staring at him. I was so mad I could have screamed. But the only person I was really mad at was myself. He was right. As soon as he said he loved me I started making excuses. I was running. If I kept running I couldn't get hurt. While I was trying to think of something to say I looked out the window in time to see the horse pasture on the corner of the street I lived on. After the neighbor's house there was nothing but woods on both sides of the gravel road for five miles. My house was on the left, set back from the road, and surrounded by huge oak and pine trees. I continued to stare out the window, feeling my anger and hurt bubbling up into my chest. It wouldn't take much for me to explode.

Keaton pulled into my driveway and parked in front of the garage. He turned off the ignition and threw his keys on the dash. I still hadn't come up with something to say to him. Everything I could think of seemed wrong.

"Brodie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I asked you to marry me. I'm sorry that I wanted to stay in St. Louis one more night. I'm sorry that I moved out. I'm sorry that the only reason I got a chance to be with you was because some sick fuck killed Grayson. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry. I can't change anything. If I could, I would. I would change a lot of things but I wouldn't change the fact that I love you."

"Okay, Keaton, you love me. What's the purpose of telling me that?"

"Kailee wants to get married."

"Kailee. Are you going to marry her?"

"She's pregnant."

"Oh. Wow."

"Yeah. So, yeah, I'm probably going to marry her."

"Excited? About the kid, I mean?"

"No. I don't love her. I'm not even sure the kid is mine. We haven't been dating that long. "

"Don't marry her. If you aren't sure the kid is yours and you don't love her, then don't marry her."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Are you kidding me? You want to marry a girl you don't love and take care of a child that you're not even sure is yours?"

"I like her a lot. And so what if the kid isn't mine? I'm just going to leave her? Pregnant?"

"Well, I hope you're at least going to make her sign a pre-nup."

"A pre-nup? Are you crazy?"

I jerked my head back and looked at him like he'd sprouted five more heads. My nails were digging into the door handle and the console from gripping them so hard. I was scared if I didn't hold onto something I might him. He here was professing his love for me and then telling me that he was going to marry another woman just because she might be pregnant by him. He didn't even know if she was really pregnant or if the kid was really his, why wouldn't I think that was a stupid idea?

"No. I'm not an idiot like you. She's a pregnant cocktail waitress who saw you with money falling out of your pockets and seized the opportunity. She'll get you for everything you've got when you divorce."

"What makes you so sure we will get a divorce? How do you know I won't fall in love with her and have a happy life with her?"

"I don't."

I crossed my arms across my chest and turned away to stared out the passenger window, watching a fox stalking a bird in my front yard. I didn't want him to see the tears welling up in my eyes. I did love him but I had spent so much time convincing myself I would eventually lose him that I pushed him away. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he reached a tan hand up to grab his keys off the dash. He fidgeted with the keys, trying to watch me without me noticing.

"You gonna get out? We're here. Home sweet home."

"Keaton, I—"

"Just don't, Brodie. Everything out of your mouth is horse shit and excuses. I don't even know why I told you or why I acted like your opinion matters. It doesn't. Tell Braelynn I miss her and I love her."

"I'm trying to talk to you. You wanted to talk so that's what I'm trying to do." I was yelling now. I never yelled. Usually, if I got to the point that I thought I was going to yell, I walked off. I hate confrontation and did everything I could to avoid it and now here I was yelling at this beautiful man. I was so afraid that if he left now that we'd never speak again. I didn't want him to leave but I was so scared for him to stay.

He put the keys in the ignition and cranked the truck. He placed one hand on the steering wheel, leaned across me, and opened my door. The scent of his Cool Water cologne assaulted my nose again and I closed my eyes trying to will myself not to break down and cry in front of him. I missed that smell permeating through my house, scenting my sheets, burned into my brain.

"Just save it, Brodie. Belittle someone else. I have to go back to work."

I turned to get out of the truck and suddenly changed my mind. I had some things I needed to get off my chest. I was beginning to wish I had walked my ass home. Keaton was typing away on his phone when I turned the motor off, snatched the keys, and threw them into the front yard. I had officially snapped. He wanted to talk and he's said his piece but wouldn't let me get a word in. He wouldn't even listen to me and I'd have enough. I was going to do whatever I could to make him stay and listen. Even if that meant tossing his keys across my yard. I watched as they landed fifty feet from us, near my rose garden.

"Have you lost your damn mind?"

"I lose it anytime I'm around you! You make me nuts! You make me so crazy, Keaton. That's why I avoid seeing you. I feel like I'm losing my mind anytime I'm around you. See, I just repeated myself! Why in the hell would you marry that girl if you don't love her?"

"This really bothers you doesn't it?"

"You're supposed to marry someone you love."

"I tried to. You said no." The icy stare he gave me made my heart skip a beat. If looks could kill, I'd have died right there in that seat. And then the anger welled back up, pushing the hurt back down.

"And then you just walked out, so you're no better. You've made me feel like shit about this for two years and have never once thought about the fact that I didn't give up on our relationship. You did. You walked out on me because I said no. You looked me in my eyes, told me you couldn't live without me and loved me so much but as soon as I said no you walked out! And what do you know?! You're still breathing! And doing better than ever, unfortunately! And if you want Braelynn to know that you miss her and love her why don't you try telling her your damn self! Do you know how hard it was to explain to that little girl why you left after she just lost her father? You didn't just walk out on me, you asshole. You walked out on her too and you never even looked back. You just kept on trucking, you selfish bastard. WE LOVED YOU! We still love you, you bastard. Yeah, okay, I fucked up because I said no to your proposal but did you ever once stop to think about why I said no? Did you ever stop and put yourself in my place and maybe see where the thought of marrying someone else might scare the hell out of me? I was scared to lose you. It might sound stupid but I was scared. And instead of even having any kind of discussion about it when we got home and things calmed down, you just packed your shit and left. Adios. Goodbye, Brodie! Hello, Kailee, with the stripper name and the fake tits! Meanwhile, I'm still trying to pick up the pieces and answer questions Braelynn has every single damn day about when we're going to stop being mad at each other and get back together. The person you really ought to be talking to is her. "

Keaton just sat there staring at me like I'd slapped him. I felt tears rolling down my cheek and I knew I couldn't sit there anymore. I got out of the Jeep, shut the door, and walked up the driveway. I opened the screen door of the back porch and Roscoe met me with a dead squirrel hanging out of his mouth.

"Roscoe! Not on the porch, baby!"

He hung his head down and skulked off the porch, dropping the squirrel in the yard, and then coming back up to lay in front of the chaise lounge I had slung myself across. Roscoe laid his big black and white head next to my hand and started nudging it as his way of telling me to pet him. I rubbed his head as I gazed off the porch. I had just built my own rock barbeque pit and grill in the middle of the yard. A rock trail cut through the yard to Braelynn's playhouse, which was a miniature version of our house, and branched off to the right to the lake and boat house. Grayson had built the boathouse the summer before he died. We had planned on buying a boat to go in it. I hadn't even gone near it since he died.

Grayson Barrett had been twenty-seven when we met. I was only sixteen. He was still a traffic cop for the town of West Blocton and had pulled me over on my way to the high school one morning. He had flirted with me and I took that as a chance to get out of a ticket. After that, anytime he saw me and my friends out around town he'd nod and smile but that was it. We didn't speak again until my graduation night. One of the football players threw a party at his dad's house and the neighbors called the cops. When Grayson showed up with another officer I was out in the driveway letting my boyfriend at the time have it for me catching him kissing another girl. I was so drunk I was slurring my words and swaying like a twig in a hurricane. He quickly guided me into the back of his patrol car and drove me home.

When I woke up the next morning I had two text messages from him on my phone checking to make sure I was okay. I didn't even remember giving him my number. After that he would send me texts every now and then if there was a wreck causing traffic in town or if they were doing a road block to catch drunk drivers. There was never any flirting or anything inappropriate in his texts. The night I turned 18, my girlfriends had taken me out and gotten me drunk. During the night his name came up in conversation and one of my friends ratted me out to the rest of the girls that he'd been texting me. They had dared me to text him and flirt with him and me being drunk happily obliged. I didn't think he would actually text me back but once I had told him I was celebrating my birthday, he immediately asked to take me out to dinner. Two nights later he took me to The Bright Star in Bessemer and we ate $28 steaks and he made me feel like I was the most important woman in the room. From that night on we were practically inseparable. He had been the love of my life and someone had taken him from me. And now I had fallen in love with someone else and instead of someone else taking him from me, I'd managed to push him away all on my own.

I heard my screen door open and I looked up to see Keaton standing in front of me. The look on his face reminded me of the night on the plane. That same pained look of frustration, anger, and confusion. It was so hard to look at him and not pull him into my arms. If I had done that the night that I said no and just simply explained that I wasn't ready, none of this may have happened. Of course, he didn't really give me a chance either. Before I had gotten the word 'no' completely out of my mouth, he was already mentally packing his shit. He was as much of a coward as I was and I wasn't going to let him get away with making me feel like the only monster in all of this. Poor Braelynn had been devastated. She didn't completely understand Grayson's death so seeing me dating Keaton and then him moving in was a huge adjustment for her. She loved Keaton very much though and had come to be his little sidekick whenever he was at home. He loved her just as much. It made my heart so happy to see the two of them together. And we, as idiot adults, had broken her poor little heart. Neither one of us had stopped to think about what our actions would do to her. We were just being selfish, pig-headed idiots who were trying to save face and come out smelling like a rose.

"I didn't mean to start a fight. Honest. I just. Hell, Brodie, I don't even know what I meant to do. I just needed you to know that I still love you. And Braelynn. And that Kailee is pregnant and that baby could be mine. And that complicates the fuck out of things. I think about you all the time. And I ask Walker about you all the time. He never tells me anything, by the way. He's as loyal to you as an old coon dog. He just tells me you're alright and if I want to know how you're really doing, I'll ask you instead of him. But I couldn't. I couldn't face you. You're right. I'm a bastard. And a coward. And I walked out on you and Braelynn. And for that, I'm the biggest asshole in the world. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Tell me why you left before you let me explain why I said no."

"I was scared, too. Here I was 30,000 feet in the air, trying to recover from a botched wedding proposal to the woman I love more than anything on this earth and she said no. Just no. She wouldn't even put the ring on her finger. I've never felt more unwanted in my life, Brodie. I couldn't handle it. I thought you were done with me. I couldn't understand why you would say no and I didn't stop to think about it. I just knew how bad it hurt and the way you looked at me when you said no, I just knew we were done. In my head, you wanted me to go. I'm a coward. I mean, shit, I walked out on the two most important women in my life and then because I was too scared to face them I just didn't even come around. I can't even begin to apologize for breaking Braelynn's heart. And you're right, I should be telling her this. And I will. I will make it up to her. Even if we never go any further than this conversation on this porch, I will never not be in her life again. Not seeing you both the past two years, other than quick passes in town, has been pure hell. I miss my family. I miss my life. I miss being happy. I miss you. And as shitty as this is going to sound, I guess the impending doom of being the father of a baby with some girl I don't really even care that much about has made me realize all of this. "

"Braelynn is spending the week at her grandparents' house. She comes home next Tuesday. You can talk to her then. She will be thrilled to see you. "

Keaton dropped to his knees beside the chaise lounge and held my right hand in between his. It had been so long since I had felt his soft hands on mine that it brought tears to my eyes again. I used to love feeling of those hands gliding over my body, caressing my back, and petting my hair. I had so much love for this man that I had managed to bottle up inside me and stuff it down deep somewhere to keep me from getting hurt. I had broken my own heart by being too scared to love someone with everything in me. I had broken my daughter's heart too. A realization that made me sick to my stomach.

"What about us, Brodie?"

"What about us, Keaton? You're talking about marrying this girl."

"Oh, hell, Brodie. I ain't gonna marry that damn girl. I said that shit to make you mad. I knew if I didn't get you pissed off I was never going to get you to talk to me and tell me how you really felt. Getting you to talk about how you feel is like trying to nail jello to a tree."

"You're really winning some points here by insulting me."

"Shit, Brodie. I'm not trying to insult you. You know it's true, though. In all the time we've been together you've never let me fully in. You've just let me peak over them walls. Yeah, that baby might be mine. There was one time where I was too drunk to remember whether I put a rubber on or not but that baby also might not be mine. I'm not as stupid as you insinuated earlier, thank you. I ain't marrying that girl. Hell, she thinks she can boss me around and is always trying to spend my money. You know for Christmas she went out and bought herself a car with my credit card? I nearly shit enough bricks to build a whole two-story house."

"Why the hell are you still with this nut? And why did you let her keep the car?"

"I didn't. I took it right back the next day and bought her a $50 tennis bracelet. She sure was sad to see that Mercedes go but I didn't give a damn. I don't know why I'm still with her. I guess convenience as shitty as it is to say. Loneliness. And don't give me that look. I know all about you dating ole Adam Wisenhutt. "

"If you know so much, asshole, then you know it didn't last too long."

"Good. Let me come home."

"Are you crazy? You really think you can just come over here all cute and holding my hand and I'm just going to say 'okay, you can move back in?'. No. I need to know you're serious. And I need to know that you're not just going to up and walk out on me again if things get hard. Or if I get hard to deal with. "

"Okay, so how can I prove to you that I am serious that I want nothing more in this world than to come home to my sweetheart and my girlfriend?" He kissed the top of my hand and smiled at me. My heart wanted to tell him to come home but my brain knew that it wasn't that easy. He had a girlfriend. He had a pregnant girlfriend. I knew that this was not going to be an easy situation and I wasn't completely sure that I even wanted to go down that road.

"You'll have to stop seeing Kailee. And you're going to have to apologize to Braelynn. And really be in her life. Not just seeing her when you come to see me. You need to make it up to her, first."

"Done. I thought you were going to make me jump through hoops of fire."

"I might. Don't tempt me," I smiled as I pulled his arm around my waist. He scooted closer to me and laid his head in my lap. I ran my hand through his hair as I looked back out at the boat house. I was going to have to let Grayson go in order to really be able to love Keaton and let him love me. I couldn't keep holding onto this dream in the back of my head that he was going to suddenly reappear one day. Grayson was gone and was never coming back. Keaton was here now and wanted to love me and Braelynn and be a part of our lives. He wanted to be our family and I wanted that too.

"So, what are you going to tell Kailee?"

"The truth. I love you and I miss you and I belong here with my family. Once the baby gets here we'll take a paternity test and go from there. You know I will support and love that child if it's mine. But can you handle that? Will you be okay with me having a child with someone else?"

"I can't lie to you, Keaton. I'm sure it will be hard at times but I'm not going to keep you away from your child if it's yours. Besides, Braelynn has always wanted a little brother or sister. I love you and I will love your child, too. If it's yours."

He kissed me gently at first and then with more passion; forcing me back against the chaise lounge. I felt like my head was going to explode. It had been so long since he had kissed me that I had forgotten how good it felt. He climbed on to the lounge with me, sliding his hands behind my back, and re-positioned me so that I was underneath him. I was having trouble breathing. I was absolutely sure all of the oxygen had been cut off from my brain due to all of my blood running south. He was wrapping my legs around his waist and I was about to pass out and die. At least I would die happy. Just when I thought my world was about to go black I heard Roscoe whining. Keaton and I both stopped long enough to turn and see my goofy dog covering his eyes with his paws.

"I forgot how much of a prude he was," Keaton said as he started kissing my neck.

"Well, he was raised by a devout Catholic family. His little heart can't handle it."

We both laughed as Keaton sat up. He leaned down and rubbed Roscoe between his eyes. That was Roscoe's sweet spot. He thumped his tail on the porch and scooted himself across the floor until his head was lying on top of Keaton's feet. The dog even loved him. Keaton slid closer to me and put his arms around me. He kissed the top of my head and then laid his head on my shoulder.

"You know," he said as he started nuzzling my neck, "we could always go inside, away from innocent eyes."

Oh shit! My whole body felt like it was melting. I wanted so badly to take him in my bedroom and catch up on two years of missed opportunities but I knew I couldn't. Not while knowing he still had a girlfriend. Whether he loved her or not.

"Nice try, Mr. Maddox. You are currently unavailable for the kind of activities you've got running through my head. You still have a girlfriend. Besides, I think jumping right into bed while we're trying to work things out is probably not one of the best ideas."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he sighed as he pulled the neck of my shirt down and kissed the space between my breasts. "It's probably not the smartest idea," he mumbled as he nibbled on my collar bone.

"Stop it!" I giggled as I pushed him off of me. "I'm serious."

"I know. I was just playing. You're right. And I want to do this the right way because I want to be embarrassing Roscoe on this same porch when I'm eighty. This is where I want to be. I don't want to mess it up again."

Right after that Keaton got a phone call from Kailee saying there was an emergency at the restaurant and they really needed him to get back soon as possible. After he left I went in the house and started cleaning. Cleaning was a stress reliever for me. Even if the rest of my life was a mess, at least my house was clean. I started in my living room. My living room was a large open space with an A-frame ceiling and cathedral windows above the front door. The ceiling, walls, and floor were all polished knotted cedar. I had a rock fire place on the wall by the back door. A large Elk head hung over the fire place. I had shot that elk on a hunting trip with Grayson the Christmas before Braelynn was born. Several of Grayson's other hunting trophies were still hanging on the other walls. There was a deer head on each side of the flat screen TV hanging on the wall by the stairs. I dusted all of the woodland creatures and then grabbed the glass cleaner to clean the salt water tank that divided the living room and the kitchen. Grayson had built the tank himself as a birthday present to himself the year we were married. Braelynn loved that stupid fish tank.

Just as I was about to start mopping the floors in the kitchen my phone rang. I figured it would be Walker ready to chew my ass out about walking out on lunch. I knew I would eventually have to apologize to him for how I acted but his mother just drove me crazy. It was amazing how much that woman could get under my skin. I really was happy for him that he was getting married but I definitely did not want to be a part of that wedding. I was more than happy to be a spectator, though.

"Hello?"

"Detective Barrett, this is Captain Stephens."

"Hello, Captain. What's up?"

"You received a letter here at the precinct. There was no name on the envelope so I opened it but the letter is addressed to you. I need you to come down here so we can talk about it."

"I'll be in the office tomorrow, Cap'n."

"No, Barrett. Now. I need you to come in now. This isn't a social call. Either this is someone's messed up idea of a prank or there's a body somewhere that we need to find."

"A body? What the hell are you talking about, Captain?"

"Just come in. Now."

Mail Call

Captain Stephens hung up on me and I stood there staring at my phone wondering what the hell he was talking about. What the hell was he talking about, a body? And why would anyone be sending me a letter to the precinct? I grabbed my black blazer, jumped in my truck, and headed to Birmingham as fast as I could. I could tell by the Captain's voice that he was not happy.

When I got to the captain's office, he and my partner, Beau, were leaning over his desk looking at a piece of paper with a quizzical look on their faces. They were also wearing rubber gloves. I tossed my blazer on the back of one of the worn out brown leather arm chairs situated in front of Captain's desk and then plopped myself down in the chair. Captain Stephens looked at me and then the box of gloves on the edge of his desk. I took out two of the powder blue latex gloves and slipped them on my hands. No glove, no love.

"Barrett, before I let you look at this letter, can you think of anyone, anyone at all who would want to involve you in something like this?"

"Honestly? The only person I can think of is Griffin and he's locked up in a Fed Max in Louisiana."

"Yeah, I thought about that stalking sumbitch, too. Checked on him as soon as I read this. He's still in his cage. Looks like you got yourself a new admirer. Take a look and let me and Beau know what you think."

Captain Stephens handed me the note. It was typewritten on creamy, think, off-white stationery like someone would use for resumes. The font was large in some places and small in others and the word spacing was very inconsistent. It looked like more than one person had typed it. Or personalities. Or maybe they were just drunk?

The letter addressed me by name:

Dearest Brodie,

This may seem a little desperate but I didn't know how else to get through to you. Because you work with bodies, I thought bodies would be the best way to tell our story. The story of you and me. But you're going to have to work for it. I will give you clues but the rest is up to you, including how our story ends. Now, for the first chapter I want to take you back in time. I laid my first body down where you first laid yours down. What a beautiful place it is! Happy hunting!

I felt bile rising up in the back of my throat. Someone was hell bent on torturing me all over again. But why now? What could someone possibly want from me this time? Wasn't my dead husband enough?

A man named Griffin Francis had started working for Grayson's construction company right after Braelynn's fourth birthday. Grayson had invited him to the birthday cookout. He had showed up half an hour late, bearing a bowlful of pitiful looking coleslaw and apple pie from Publix. He followed me into the kitchen and apologized profusely for being late. I kept reassuring him that it was perfectly fine and when I had turned to walk out the back door, he wedged himself between me and the door. He said nothing out of the way but his body language and his proximity made me very uncomfortable. I brushed it off and did not mention it to Grayson until 6 months later when I had come home early from work to find out front door standing wide open and Griffin standing in our living room, he claimed had stopped by to see Grayson and saw someone breaking in the door as he was pulling up. He said the he chased them through the house and they ran out the back door and through the woods before he could get a good look at the guy. I called Grayson and then asked Griffin to leave. He refused to leave me alone until Grayson got home. Once Grayson finally got home he quickly got Griffin out of the house and convinced him to leave. I checked the back door and it was still locked. No one had run out of that door. When I went upstairs to change my clothes, I found my underwear drawer standing wide open and several pairs of my underwear were missing. Grayson fired Griffin the very next day.

For six months after that Griffin followed me just about everywhere. I put a restraining order on him and it didn't even phase him. He didn't care. And he was just smart enough to to cover his tracks so I would have a hard time proving that he had actually broken the order. The morning of mine and Grayson's fifth wedding anniversary he went out for a jog. He never returned home. At eleven o'clock that night, the police in West Blocton had found his body dumped at the boat launch of the Cahaba River. The next day Griffin showed up at my house bloody, drunk, and wearing Grayson's wedding ring.

"Well, Barrett, what do you make of it?"

"Okay. This person either really does know me or thinks they know things about me. This clue makes a reference to my past."

"Where you laid your first body down or where you first laid your body down?" Beau asked as he rubbed his salt-and-pepper goatie.

"Good question."

Beau pushed up the sleeves of his royal blue button down shirt as he got up out of his seat. He began pacing around the captain's office, tapping his fingers on his legs. This meant he was thinking. Beau tapped on anything and everything when he was deep in thought. While he was pacing, I looked back at the letter and read it once more, trying to think of anything in my past that would correlate. I'd never shot anyone in this area so that wasn't it. I was born at Brookwood Hospital and my parents lived in a suburb in Midfield, so this wouldn't have been where I first laid down. What did this mean? I closed my eyes and tried to think about all the times I had visited the zoo and the botanical gardens. Where I first laid my body down? Where I - -oh, my.

In the 9th grade, my high school English teacher had taken us on a field trip to the botanical gardens to inspire us to write nature haikus. I'd always had an interest in writing but on this trip I was interested in my new boyfriend, Gunner Hayes. He had failed the year before so he was older and cool in a bad boy sort of way. His shaggy chestnut colored hair was always hanging in his brooding hazel eyes which made him seem dark and untouchable. I was enamored by him. Everything about him drew me to him like a hot, sweaty man gravitates to cold beer after working all day. At first he wasn't going to go on the field trip but changed his mind at the last minute. He said we could sneak off in the gardens for some alone time. My inexperienced 9th grade body felt like I had thrown a hair dryer in my bathwater at the mention of alone time with him. I had nearly lost my virginity behind a wall of bamboo next to a stinky, stagnant pond full of overgrown koi fish and more mosquitoes than should ever be allowed on Earth. I never told anyone about that. Who else would know other than Gunner?

"Holy shit."

"What is it, Brodie?"

"The body. I, I know where it is. If there really is a body, I know exactly where it is."

"Where? And how did you figure it out?"

"The botanical gardens. In the bamboo by the koi pond in the Japanese Gardens. I, um, I would rather not tell you how I figured it out."

"Uh, uh, Barrett. You can't keep any secrets from us or I will take you off the investigation. Now, spill it."

"But, Cap, it's personal."

"I don't give a damn, Barrett. Whatever it is became public knowledge once this letter entered my precinct."

"Addressed to me."

"Spill it or two weeks suspension. No pay."

"Fine. I almost lost my virginity behind that bamboo."

Beau stopped pacing and Captain Stephens nearly chocked on his coffee. I stifled a nervous laugh and looked down at my shoes. I was so embarrassed to be admitting my scandalous school trysts. Captain cleared his throat as I watched his face turn a nice shade of pink. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who was embarrassed by this revelation.

"Well, uh, who knows about this uh, about your, uh. Who knows?"

"No one. I mean, no one but Gunner. I was so embarrassed by it that I never told anyone."

"Gunner? Seriously? You almost lost your virginity to a guy named Gunner?"

"Oh, as if Beauregard is so much better! Look, regardless of what his name is, he's the only one who knew. Unless he told anyone, which I kind of doubt. He kept to himself. So, I don't know."

Captain threw his Styrofoam coffee cup in the garbage can next to the door, opened the door, and motioned for us to walk out.

"Let's go find some bamboo, then. Also, give Mr. Gunner a visit, Barrett. Find out if he told anyone."

"Seriously, Captain? That was the 9th grade. Who cares about -?"

"Barrett, it's not up for discussion. Someone obviously knew about it and cared enough to not only mention it but dump a body there. Go see Gunner after we leave the gardens. I mean it. Don't fight me on this, Barrett. I don't care if that letter was addressed to you, we can't do our jobs if you don't do yours. And I will suspend you if you don't do your job. Got it?"

"Got it."

I grabbed my jacket and followed Beau and Captain Stephens out the door to Captain's black Tahoe. Beau pushed me out of the way and climbed in the passenger seat, leaving me to ride in the backseat. He did this every time we rode with the Captain. He was like the annoying big brother that I never wanted. We rode to the botanical gardens in silence. Beau was playing Candy Crush on his phone and I was texting Keaton. I missed him already and I wanted him to know it. I wanted him to know that I meant every word I said. The possible pregnancy and this new investigation was going to complicate things but I had faith that Keaton and I could work it all out.

Captain pulled into a parking space close to the entrance of the gardens. There is a gift shop and restaurant to the left and a large water fountain on the right. In the middle is a large map of the garden grounds. Beau went to check in with the gardens manager while the captain stopped at the map. I walked past the captain and the map and headed towards the trail that veered off to the left. The Japanese Gardens were at the back of the gardens at the end of this trail.

"Cap, come on. I told you I know exactly where it's at."

I heard Captain Stephens grumbled as he skulked my direction. He walked with a slight limp from being shot in the leg during his years a beat cop. I heard the thump of his right foot behind me indicating that he had caught up with me. We walked down to trail in silence until we came to the giant orange pagoda at the entrance of the Japanese Gardens.

"This is it, huh?"

"Yep. You ever been here before?"

"Not much of a garden person, Barrett. Now, show me this bamboo."

I followed him through the pagoda and down the rock path to the orange bridge that served as a walkway over the koi pond. On the other side was the forest of bamboo. The bamboo was so thick that a body would not be easily seen from the bridge. We walked behind the first row of bamboo and down the straw trail until we got to a cluster of bamboo near the chain link fence that surrounds the gardens. Once we got close to the fence, I spotted a foot sticking out of the bamboo. Beau walked up behind us as I leaned down to touch the foot. I didn't hear Beau walked up until I reached out to touch the foot. He cleared his throat and scared me.

"Shit, Beau!"

"What? My throat is dry."

"You scared the hell out of me. I believe we have found our body. Call it in."

Captain Stephens and I wedged ourselves between the bamboo and the fence to get a better look at the body. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, was lying in the straw between rods of bamboo. Her bright blue eyes were open wide and blood shot. A halo of golden blond hair was tangled up in the straw. She was wearing a pale yellow sweater and dark purple running shorts. On her feet were expensive looking purple and yellow running shoes. Her face was traditionally beautiful. Her cheekbones were high, her eyes set apart in such a way that it made her face look symmetrical, and her full lips were a cherry red color.

I used a stick to carefully move her hair away from her neck so I could get a better look at the bruises near her collar bone. They were finger shaped bruises. Someone had strangled this poor, beautiful girl. Someone who not only knew my name but apparently knew my past as well. Who would possibly know about that day other than Gunner? And if no one else knew, was Gunner capable of doing something like this? It hardly seemed likely. I hadn't seen him since our high school graduation but I had heard through the grapevine that he'd started his own computer repair company and had actually made a good life for himself. Things with us had ended amicably enough for two disfunctional teenagers. There's no way that Gunner was behind this. Whoever had done this was someone with serious problems. How could someone kill this beautiful, innocent girl just to get my attention? And why was I always attracting crazy people?

I sat down near the fence and watched as the crime scene unit descended upon the body and the crime scene. I watched as they ferreted around the body and picked up pieces of hair and placed them in little baggies. I was always fascinated with how meticulous the crime scene unit was and how many little pieces went into solving a murder. As I watched one of the CSU guys walking around taking pictures, a bright red spot on the bottom of her shoe caught my attention. Blood. There was blood on the bottom of her shoes. There was no blood on her anywhere else. Whose blood was on the bottom of her shoes? And where did it come from?

"There's blood on the bottom of her shoes."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, Captain. There is blood on the bottom of her shoes. There's no blood on her, though. Where would she get blood on the bottom of her shoes? These look brand new. They don't even look like she's been running in them.. She must have just bought these shoes."

"Okay. I'll let the CSU guys know. Anything else you notice, Barrett?"

"Not yet. I'm still trying to figure out where the blood would come from. There is no blood trail anywhere around here. And there is no blood on her. She got that from somewhere else. Which means that she was walking around somewhere that was covered in blood. But whose blood?"

"I believe that's your job to find out, Barrett. Look, CSU has got things covered here. Beau is talking to the garden workers now to see if anyone may have seen anything. It couldn't have been very easy to get a body in here and dump it without anyone seeing something. Let's get back to the precinct. When we get back why don't you go ahead and give Gunner a visit?"

"Sure thing, Cap. Looking forward to it."

When Captain Stephens pulled into the parking lot I slowly peeled myself out of his backseat and made my way over to my truck. I climbed in and put my favorite Jason Aldean CD in the CD player. Walker had told me a while back that Gunner ran his computer repair business out of one of the office buildings here in Birmingham so I pulled out my phone and searched for the address of his office. Hayes Computer Consulting and Repair was located on the 4th floor of the Wells Fargo building right in the heart of downtown Birmingham. I navigated my truck down the 4 blocks that separated our precinct from the Wells Fargo building, found a parking space on the street, and fed the meter. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to be here long.

The building's large wooden doors open up to a small lobby with a large saltwater fish tank and a wooden security desk with an older, bearded security guard asleep in a chair two sizes too small stationed behind it. I noticed a notebook on the edge of the desk so I signed my name and the time and date and made my way to the elevator as quietly as I could. He looked like he was really enjoying his nap. The elevator doors pulled apart so slow that I wondered if they were stuck. Once inside the elevator, I pushed the worn out button that I suspected was for the 4th floor. Most of the numbers on the panel were gone, worn away from years of hurried fingers pushing on them.

And then I waited. It felt like the elevator was trying to pull itself out of molasses. The slow crawl up to the 4th floor gave me plenty of time to enjoy the stained red velvet carpet and wood paneling on the walls. And the pee smell. I would never understand why people pee in elevators.

The elevator finally came to a stop and the doors opened up to a hall of glass-paneled doors with gold lettering on them. Each door had the name of a different business or lawyer on it. The same wood paneling in the elevator was on the walls and the floors were a dusty blue. I suspected they were once light blue but that time and dirty shoes had not been very kind to them. Gunner's office was to the right and around the corner. HCCR was the very last door at the end of the hall. The lights were on so I took that as a good sign that at least someone was in the office. I was half-way hoping that it wasn't Gunner. It wasn't that I didn't want to see him but I couldn't recall the last time I had actually seen him and I definitely didn't want to go see someone from high school and have a conversation about whether they may or may not be a stalker and a homicidal maniac. That just didn't sound like a fun time.

A bell rang above my head as I pushed through the wood and glass door. A nymph-like woman who was sitting behind a large cherry oak desk looked up at me with wide blue eyes. Her eyelids were drowning in bright purple eye shadow and her lipstick was such a bright pink that I was sure it was once employed by Day-Glo. Her hair was cropped short around her face and was fire engine red. She was wearing a beige blouse and pearl necklace. I couldn't see her from the waist down. From the neck up she looked like she'd fallen in a crayon box. She smiled so wide her eyes bugged out like a Chihuahua.

"Can I help you?" She drawled out like she should be sitting on a front porch sipping tea with a shotgun between her legs and hound dog laying at her feet.

"Uh, yes. I'm looking for Gunner Hayes. Is he here by any chance?"

"Uh huh. 'Cept he's in a meeting right now. I can either take a message or you can sit right here with me and wait."

"How long do you think it will take?"

"'Bout fifteen minutes. He should be 'bout done, sugar. You can wait, if you like. He doesn't have any more appointments this afternoon."

"Okay. I'll wait then."

I sat down in a rickety wooden chair in the corner of the room. She struck me as the Chatty Cathy type and I wanted to be as far away from her as possible. There is no way I was going to listen to Redneck Suzy for the next fifteen minutes. I pulled my phone out and started checking e-mails. I sent some texts to Walker and Keaton. I wanted to look as busy as possible so that she's wouldn't be able to find a polite time to speak to me. It didn't work.

"So what's your problem?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, your computer problem. Or is it your smart phone? We fix them there phones now."

"Actually, I need to speak to Mr. Hayes about a personal matter."

"Oh." Her mouth made the shape of a letter 'o' and then she made a face that looked as if she was annoyed and confused at the same time. She started tilting her head like a puppy dog.

"Are y'all related? You don't look familiar. I didn't think Gunner had that much family around here."

"No, not related. We were friends in high school."

"Oh. Oh, is there a reunion coming up? I just can't wait for my ten year reunion. It's going to be so exciting to see all my old friends from school again and see what everyone has done with their lives. I bet it's nice."

"Uh, no. No reunion. Just need to speak with him, that's all."

"Huh." She gave me a dismissive look and then went back to whatever she was doing before I had walked in. She looked a lot older than someone who could possibly be looking forward to a ten year reunion but I guess it was just the make-up. I didn't even know if Gunner would be happy to see me. He might be like me and absolutely dread running into people that he knew from high school. It wasn't that I hated anyone from high school. It was just such an exhausting conversation. I didn't really keep in touch with anyone from high school other than Walker so anytime I did run into someone and they wanted to ask how I was doing and tell me all about what was going on in their lives I just kind of nodded and smiled because I honestly just didn't care. Half the time I wasn't even really listening. Walker always called me a bitch for it but it's just how I was. I couldn't find it in myself to care about people who meant nothing to me. Out of sight out of mind. Thinking about Walker made me realize I still hadn't talked to him since lunch earlier today. I'm sure he was pissed at me but at the moment it was one of the things I was least worried about. Walker didn't stay mad at me for long.

Secretary Barbie didn't speak to me again until after a tall man wearing a tan business suit walked to the desk and told her goodbye. As soon as he was out the door, she jumped up from her chair, ran around the desk, and into the office facing me. She was only gone for a minute before she jerked one of the wooden doors open.

"Mr. Hayes will see you now." She looked me up and down as I walked past her and into Gunner's office. There was a table on the left side of the room littered with bits and pieces of dissected computers and cell phones. Gunner was sitting at an old metal desk in the middle of the room when he looked up at me.

"Brodie? Brodie Barrett? I don't believe it. How you been, girl?"

"Hello, Gunner. I'm well. It's been a minute, I know. This isn't a social call though, unfortunately."

"Oh? What can I help you with?"

"Well, this is going to be a little bit of an uncomfortable conversation I'm afraid. You know I'm a detective now for the homicide unit and I need your help with a case I'm working on."

"Absolutely. Anything for you, sweetheart. You need something hacked into or repaired? I've got some software too I've been working on that copies everything someone types on their computer to a file on your computer so that even if they erase something you still have the original copy on your computer." He was picking up pamphlets as he walked around the desk to me. When he got close to me I thought he was going to hand me the pamphlets so I held my hands out but the next thing I knew he had wrapped me in his arms and was squeezing the life out of me. Gunner was not still the same lanky outcast that I remembered from high school. He was a grown man with broad shoulders and big muscular arms. His face was all chiseled angles like someone had carved it from stone.

"Uh, no. I don't need any software right now but I may take you up on that offer later so I'll take these pamphlets to show my captain. I need to talk to you about something personal."

His face dropped to the floor and he let me go. I backed up just enough to gain back my personal space but not enough to offend him.

"Is my momma hurt? My brother?"

"Oh, heavens, no. I'm sorry. Listen, I got a letter at the precinct today that was had a sort of riddle on it and clue that led me to a dead body. At the botanical gardens. The riddle made a reference to the bamboo behind the koi pond."

Gunner crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leaned his butt against the top of his desk. I couldn't quite read the look on his face but at the mention of the koi pond he started slowly putting distance in between us.

"Bamboo? What's that got to do with me?"

"It's a little embarrassing actually. Uh, the riddle says that the killer laid their first body down where I first laid mine down. And I thought maybe that meant where I first shot someone as a police officer but that didn't fit with the clue. I kept trying to figure out what that area could possibly have to do with the riddle and then I realized that that is the place where we almost - you know."

Gunner's eyebrow shot up and a grin slowly crawled across his handsome face. I shoved my hands in my blazer pockets and checked out the dirt on my shoes. I never was good at talking about anything sex related with someone that I had history with. Especially in normal conversation. If this conversation could even be considered normal. He started chuckling and I snapped my head up to see what was so funny.

"Lord, girl! You know I haven't even been back to that koi pond since then? Man, that was a good a day, though. Seems like ages ago."

"Yeah, I know. It does seem like forever ago. And, it - uh- it was a good day. But did you happen to tell anyone about that day?"

"What? No. Never. Why?"

"Well, how else would this person know that place was special to me? Or not special but sentimental? I guess that's the best way to describe it. Someone other than you and I know about it and I never told anyone. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone."

"Embarrassed? Of me?"

"No, that I couldn't go through with it. That I was a - you know- a tease."

Gunner threw his head back and laughed. After a few seconds he wiped tears from his eyes and shook his head at me.

"Brodie, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You saved me from having to look like a punk and back out. I was just as scared and as nervous as you were. And I damn sure didn't want that to be your memory of your first time. But, in all honesty, I never told anyone either. I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about you. Shit, girl, I cared about you more than just about anyone else in my life. I damn sure didn't want people to think that you were something you weren't by losing your virginity to me in a public park behind some bamboo. You think it's possible someone saw us? I mean we were on a school field trip."

"Anything's possible, Gunner. I just didn't know where else to start. I just don't understand why anyone would want to do something like this. Hey, one more question. We don't have an ID, yet. She didn't have any on her but do you know a tall, blond girl that likes to go jogging at the gardens do you? She was wearing a yellow sweater and purple running shorts. And purple and yellow running shoes. That looked brand new."

His smile disappeared as soon as I mentioned the shoes. Gunner knew the dead girl. I watched him as he leapt up from his desk and walked around behind it to put more distance between he and I. Once in a victimology class the department required us to take I had heard that someone who had something to hide or was nervous about something would occasionally place object between you, the detective, and them, the suspect. It was supposed to make them feel safer with an obstacle between you and them. Gunner knew that girl and I was starting to think he wasn't going to tell me that he knew her.

"She wearing any jewelry?"

"You know, come to think of it, she had a diamond ring on a gold chain around her neck. Why? Do you know this girl?"

"Brodie, I don't know why and I don't know how I would even be able to explain this but I think you're talking about my fiancé."

"What?"

"I could be wrong. But I, uh, shit, Brodie. I haven't seen her in a week. I haven't even talked to her."

"You haven't talked to your fiancé in a week? Not a text, email, nothing?"

"No. We got into a big fight the last time we saw each other."

"About what?"

"I'd rather not say."

He ran his hands through his floppy, blond hair. I stood there as still as I could, hoping that he would take that as having my full attention. Why would he not talk to his fiancé in a week? How did he not know if she was missing or not? And why the hell would this dead girl at my crime scene be his fiancé? What made him immediately think it was her? Just because of some shoes. The shoes.

"You didn't seem concerned until I mentioned the shoes. Why?"

"I just ordered her some custom purple and yellow Nikes online for her birthday. She's a big Louisiana State University fan. They came to her house the day we got into the fight."

"I think you might need to come down to the precinct with me, Gunner. Just in case it might be her. I can show you a picture and let you decide if you think it's her or not."

"I don't think I want to do that, Brodie."

"Okay. I tell you what. You give her a call now and see if you can get in touch with her. If you can, I'll leave. If not, you're going with me to my office."

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed her number. I watched his face as he waited for someone to pick up on the other side. I could see the hope and desperation creeping up into his hazel eyes. And then I could see the worry when her phone just kept ringing. Gunner hung up and called back a few more times before slamming the phone down on his desk.

"Come on, Gunner. I can't lie to you. This doesn't look good, at all. But I trust you. I don't think you did this. But someone who knows us did. I need your help. I need you help me figure out if this is your fiancé. And if it is, I need you to help me figure out who did it. I'm not going to arrest you. I'm not going to force you but I promise you that you want to go down there now, with me, before someone else figures out that the body at my scene is possibly your fiancé and that you haven't seen her in a week. And the last time you did see her, the two of you were fighting. You and I both know how this plays out. The boyfriend is always the first suspect."

"When you get an ID on that body, you call me. I refuse to believe that it's her. And I'm not setting foot in that precinct until you know it's her for sure."

"Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you. I'm going to leave my card here on the desk in case you change your mind. Give me a call, anytime, Gunner."

And with that I walked out of his office, past Chatty Cathy, and back out into the depressing hallway. I took the steps instead of waiting on the elevator that was delivering it's passengers at snail speed. I had to get back to the office and see if anyone had made an ID on this girl. If this was Gunner's fiancé, he was definitely going to have a lot of explaining to do. Starting with what they were fighting about the last time he saw her. I hated to jump to conclusions but it was hard not too when the only person who knew about that spot behind the bamboo was also the possible fiancé of the body dumped there. Either Gunner had something to do with this or someone else was really, really good at pointing the finger elsewhere. Shit, why can't I just have a normal day? Sometimes I really missed being a beat cop.

Beau was waiting for me at my desk when I walked into the office. He had a file folder in one hand and my favorite coffee mug in the other hand. If Beau fixed me coffee then something was up. I was hoping that someone had been able to ID the girl. I was also hoping that she wasn't Gunner's fiance.

"What's up?"

"While you were interviewing Mr. Hayes, I met with the medical examiner. There's no definite cause of death yet but she speculates the girl was strangled. Can't put that on record yet, of course but judging from those finger marks around that poor girl's neck, I'd say she's right."

"So, what else?"

"Well, thanks to your tip about the blood, CSU was able to clean it off her shoes before it became compromised. ME checked the girl all over for surface wounds that would have caused bleeding but there was none. She did a DNA work up and the DNA of the girl and the DNA of the blood do not match."

"So, it belongs to our killer?"

"No. That's why I brought coffee."

"Oh, man."

"When the ME ran the DNA results to see if the girl's popped up in the system she ran the other DNA as well. Our girl's didn't pop up anywhere. The other matched to the DNA of a girl who went missing last week."

"What? How accurate is that? Why the hell would she have the blood of a missing girl on the bottom of her shoes and nowhere else?"

"I have no idea. I'm as confused as you are. There wasn't any blood on her clothes anywhere, either. What did Hayes have to say?"

"Nothing good."

"Oh?" Beau's bushy eyebrows shot up as he sat up in his chair like he was trying to hear me better.

"Yeah. He seemed really happy to see me and swore that he never told anybody about that day at the gardens because he didn't want to give anybody the wrong impression about me. He didn't seem really interested in the whole thing until I asked him about the girl."

"He knows her?"

"I didn't think he did until I mentioned her shoes. Then his whole attitude changed. Get this, it could be his fiancé but he wouldn't come down here to ID her. He said when I got an ID on her to call him and he would come down here. It was really weird."

"So the shoes make him think it's her?"

"His fiancé is a big LSU fan so for her birthday he had some Nike's custom made for her in the school colors. But this is what got me, Beau. He told me that he hadn't talked to her in a week so he didn't even know if she was missing or not. And then he tells me that the last time he saw her they had gotten into an argument. It's classic, right?"

"Yeah. Only you don't believe him, do you?"

"That obvious, huh? Hell no, I don't believe him. I believe he's telling the truth about an argument but I don't believe it's been a week since he's seen or heard from her. He wouldn't even look me in the eye when he told me that. And even if they had gotten into a fight who the hell goes a week without speaking to their fiancé?"

"He try calling her?"

"Yeah. I was standing right there. Her phone rang but no one picked up. The really scary thing though is that if Gunner is our guy, we're going to have a hard time catching him. This dude is smart, Beau. I mean he even has a computer program that he wrote himself that you can put on someone's computer and it will copy every single word that they type on their computer onto your computer so even if they delete files or wipe away their browser history, you still have the original files and history."

"That's amazing. We should probably invest in that."

"No shit. But see, if we buy it and try to use it, he knows how to get around it. I mean, he wrote it. I'm so confused, though. I don't think he killed this girl. Well, I didn't when I first got there. He was flirting with me a little but it was just harmless chit-chat really. Everything was fine until I mentioned the shoes. I still don't get why he wouldn't come down here. I even told him that it didn't look good and that he would probably be better off coming down here with me now and us talking about this now than me having to arrest him later. He still wouldn't come."

Beau took a sip of my coffee. He had a bad habit of doing that. Or eating my food. I guess it was a good thing I wasn't worried about catching his cooties.

"You think maybe he's just hoping that it's not his girlfriend and he doesn't want to make a big deal out of their argument if it turns out to be nothing?"

"It's possible. What's that file?"

"It's about the missing girl."

He handed me the file and I sat down in the metal chair next to my desk. When I opened it the first thing I saw was a head shot of a beauty queen. This picture was professionally done. I could tell by the quality and the angle of her head. She had milky white, smooth skin and long, curly hair the color of rust. Her green eyes were a little too close together but were just wide enough to be pretty. Her nose looked like one of those button noses you see drawn on cartoon characters and her mouth was spread wide into a Cheshire grin so that you could see all of her straight, pearly white teeth. On top her pretty head, was a large rhinestone tiara.

I flipped the picture over and read the police report that was stuck in the file behind it. Janelle Pearson was her name. She was a 21 year old nursing student at the University of Alabama at Birmingham. She lived in downtown Birmingham and worked as a bartender at Hookah Harry's, the new hookah bar in town. Janelle rode her bicycle to school the day she went missing. She was reported missing by her roommate, a Miss Melanie Bryson. Her parents lived in Georgia and she had no known relatives in the area. Janelle did not have a steady boyfriend but had been seeing several guys. Melanie Bryson did not know their names nor their descriptions. Janelle had her phone with her when she left that morning. She never made it to class. Her phone rang a few times with no answer and then eventually started going straight to voicemail. Classmates didn't really know her. She kept to herself. Her manager and co-workers at Hookah Harry's all said that she was a really nice girl who went out of her way to help anyone she could and they were worried that maybe she had tried to help the wrong person. She was known to pass out cheap deli sandwiches to the homeless people in Linn Park. They couldn't remember the names of any guys that she was seeing but did give the description of a guy who came in to see her regularly. He had a bald head, was between 6'1 and 6'5, and had large muscles. Gee, that should be easy to find. Very descriptive, thanks. Okay, Janelle Pearson, how did your blood end up on my dead girl's shoes? And where are you? Before I could finish reading the rest of the detectives notes, my desk phone rang. Beau answered it, said yes a few times, and then hung up.

"Hey, Gunner tell you what his girlfriend's name was?"

"No. I'm a shitty detective. I didn't even get that far before he started shutting me down. Why?"

"Got an ID on her. Chloe Brasher. 22. Her mother is going to be in the ME's office in 10 minutes to give a definite identification. We need to be there when she gets there. Especially if this is his fiancé. We need to find out as much as we can about their relationship before we go after him. If we don't and we arrest him too soon, we could be screwed."

"She do dentals?"

"Yeah, apparently she had a permanent retainer in her mouth and that's how they identified her. Come on."

We both grabbed our notepads and pens and headed down to the basement to the ME's office. Beau always turned a sort of Grinch green when we had to go down there. For someone who has been a police officer as long as he has, he got squeamish around dead bodies very easily. And if they had been in water for any length of time, I could forget about Beau even being around. He passed out the last time we pulled a guy out of a lake. The ME's office was a cold place but it never bothered me. Death was just as much a part of my life as everything else. It seemed to follow me wherever I went. I was kind of starting to get use to the trail of bodies behind me.

The dead girl's mother had arrived early because she was already viewing the body by the time we walked in. I could hear her scream crying on the other side of the door. There was no way to describe that type of crying other than scream crying. And there would be no other time you would hear that type of crying than in situations like this. I had heard that siren song more times than I cared to admit. Dr. Wood's opened the double doors and ushered a rail-thin woman into the waiting area where we were. She looked up at us with small, beady, blood-shot eyes and then started crying all over again. We turned away for a minute to give her some time to compose herself before we started asking her questions. When I turned back around she was wiping her nose with a pale yellow handkerchief that was the same color yellow as the dead girl's sweater.

"He did this. That bastard that she was going to marry. I know he did this."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Brasher, what did you say?"

"I said" she sighed as she walked towards us, "that bastard that she was going to marry did this. I know he has something to do with her death."

"Okay, Mrs. Brasher. Why don't we have a seat and you tell me about it? I'm going to take some notes as you talk but I promise I will listen to every word you say. And if you decide that you need to stop, we can continue this another day."

She dropped her oversize purse in the floor next to an orange padded chair and then plopped herself down into the chair as if her bones had just given out. Beau and I sat down in the chairs facing her. He nodded at me to go ahead and start questioning her. I felt so sorry for this lady that I didn't even want to ask her anything. I just wanted to hold her and let her cry. I couldn't even begin to imagine how I would feel right now if that girl in the pale yellow sweater was my sweet Braelynn.

"They've been together since she was eighteen. I know he had been calling her way before that but she knew that I would never go for her dating an older man until she was of legal age. The day she turned nineteen she moved out of my house and right into his. They weren't even engaged yet. I was so pissed. How dare you go after my young daughter and then you don't even have the decency to marry her before you move her in your house and have her playing house with you? What kind of man does that? A no good one, that's who. Bastard."

"Mrs. Brasher, what is Chloe's fiancé's name?"

"Gunner Hayes. He's twenty-nine and he owns that Hayes Computer Consulting and Repair in the Wells Fargo building. And he owns a condo in the City Federal building.. On one of the top floors. I'm not sure which. I've never been there. Never been invited. You believe that? I'm her own damn mother and I've never even been invited to see where the hell my daughter was living. And she's been living there for three years. Three fucking years." Mrs. Brasher's tiny hand shot up to cover her mouth and her eyes grew wide looking at me. Her face flushed and she turned her head away from me, clearly embarrassed that she had cussed.

"It's okay, Mrs. Brasher. I understand that you're upset. I'm not going to judge for a few cuss words and neither will Detective O'Shae or Dr. Woods. I'm sorry that you had to go through this with Chloe but that doesn't give me an idea of why you think Mr. Hayes would have had anything to do with her murder?"

"He's an asshole. Chloe wasn't allowed to cut her hair. She always wore it kind of long in the front but cut up real short in the back like all the young girls wear now. Only Gunner didn't like it. She had to wear her hair long and pin-straight. She could only wear certain colors of fingernail polish and she wasn't allowed to go tanning either. And Chloe loved the tanning bed. Which I know it's not good for you but still, who the hell is he to tell her what she can and can't do? And she couldn't have a job. She had a job when they first started dating. She was working at Buckle over at the Galleria in Hoover. Oh, how she loved that job. 'Course she spent more money on clothes than she actually brought home. That asshole got her fired. He showed up there one day and they started fighting and the next thing Chloe knew he was hollering and she was hiding in the dressing room in tears. With a whole store full of customers watching. Her manager fired her on the spot."

"I see. Was Mr. Hayes ever physically violent with her?"

"I can't honestly say. I never saw any bruises on her and Chloe's pride would have never allowed her to tell me if he did but I suspect so. How else did he manage to wield all that control over her? He made her sell her car. If she wanted to go somewhere she had to ask him to borrow his extra car. A grown woman asking to borrow a damn car. And she was only allowed a certain amount of time to be gone in that car too or there would be trouble. She met me for lunch one day and then we decided to do some shopping. She forgot all about her time to be back and at three o'clock on the dot he called her phone and was screaming so loud that everyone in ear shot of us in that store could hear what he was saying. It was embarrassing."

"When was the last time you saw Chloe?"

"Let's see, today is Friday, so I would say Tuesday. She met me for lunch the Pita Pronto over on the corner of the Wells Fargo building."

"On Tuesday?"

"Yes. It was about one o'clock I think because that divorce court show was on the TV."

"Did she say anything to you about Mr. Hayes while you two were having lunch?"

"She told me that they had gotten into a big fight on her birthday, which was last Friday."

"She tell you what they argued about?"

"Yes. Chloe has always wanted to get married in the rose garden at the botanical gardens. It's been a dream of hers since she was a little girl. As a matter of fact, the first time I ever took her to the botanical gardens and we walked through that trellis she said this is it, momma. This is where I will get married. Anyway, Gunner didn't like the idea. He had this bright idea that they were going to get married over the Double Tree Hotel and Chloe just wasn't having it. She flat out refused to get married anywhere but in that rose garden. She told him that if he didn't want to get married there that they didn't have to but that meant that she was giving him his ring back and moving out. She said she finally stood up to him and told him that she had waited long enough to get married and she was tired of waiting and that she did everything his way whenever he said so and it was high time that he did something she wanted. I was so proud of her. Bless her sweet little heart. Looks like it got her killed."

I was scribbling notes in my notebook so fast that I was misspelling words and I didn't even care. Mrs. Brasher was talking so fast but I didn't want to slow her down. I wanted her to give me as much detail as she could even if that meant that I had to write it down so fast that smoke was coming up from my pen. I'd write until my hand fell off. She was right about one thing. Gunner Hayes was a bastard. He had told me that he hadn't seen his fiancé since her birthday last week. He had to have seen her on Tuesday because she was eating at the restaurant that is right next to the lobby of the building his office is in. There is no way that she went to lunch there without seeing him some time that day.

"Did you pick that restaurant or did she?"

"She did. She was going over wedding plans with Gunner in his office and so she asked me to just meet her downstairs for a quick lunch. On that day, according Chloe, everything was fine. Better than ever. They were going to get married in the rose garden and then they were going on a honeymoon. Gunner was even taking some time off of work. Something that he has never done in the whole four years that they have been together. Detective Barrett, I may not be the smartest woman in the world. I don't even have a high school education but I promise you, if he didn't do it himself, he at least knows who did. I know he had something to do with this."

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Brasher. We will certainly follow up with Mr. Hayes as soon as possible. Here is my number if you can think of anything else or if you need anything else. I am so sorry for your loss and I wish we could have met on different circumstances. Thank you so much for your time."

Mrs. Brasher took my card and slipped it into her bulging maroon wallet and then tossed the walled back into her gigantic purse. She slipped it over her arm and nodded at Beau and I as she walked out of the door. I was looking back over my notes that I had taken when I heard Beau clear his voice.

"He lied to you. Big time."

"Yes, he did."

"Want to get an arrest warrant?"

"Yes, I do."

We submitted our request for an arrest warrant and then I headed home. There wasn't much else that could be done until we could get the autopsy report and that arrest warrant. I couldn't wait to get that bastard into interrogation and nail him to the wall. He obviously thought he was smarter than me. Joke's on him. I wasn't going to give up easily. I hated when someone lied to me. Especially when it was so easy to contradict their story.

Colonel Mustard In the Library

Grayson's dad was pulling into the driveway as I was getting out of my truck. He always picked up Braelynn from school and delivered her safely home. I watched Braelynn kiss him on the cheek and then jump out of the car. He flipped his hand up from the steering wheel in a quick wave and then started pulling out of the driveway. I couldn't remember the last time he had actually spoken to me. Grayson's parents blamed me for his death and in a way I couldn't say that I blamed them. As much as it hurt to have them ignore me, I was glad that they still had an interest in Braelynn. She loves her Mims and Poppa very much.

My sweet little girl bounced up to me like she had springs in her feet. At only ten years old she was already almost five foot five. She was always grinning down at me so amused that she was taller than her mother. She had his round honey colored eyes and upturned nose. Her hair was the same jet black as mine and her little cherubic mouth was all hers. I loved watching her laugh and play. She had such a hard time after Grayson died that I thought I might never see my child smile again. Keaton had helped her get over the pain and learn how to be a kid again. He was always playing games with her and telling her fantastical stories about princesses in towers and knights in shining armor that were also ninjas on call. I know she's mad at me right now because Keaton moved out but I was hoping to change that. Especially after our conversation this afternoon.

"Hey, momma. You look tired."

"Hey, sugar. I am tired. It's been a long day. When you get in the house you get started on your homework. I better not hear the TV turn on. You understand?"

"Yes, mam."

"Good. I'm going to get dinner started. If you need me, you know where to find me."

Braelynn grabbed my keys out of my hand and unlocked the front door. She had become so independent recently and wanted to do everything herself. She had also developed a bit of a rebellious streak so some days were just one battle after the other to get her to do what I asked. Once inside the door, she kicked her shoes off and slid on her sock feet over to the couch which was her favorite place to do homework. I personally thought that she should do it at the desk in her room or at the living room table but she insisted that she worked better on the couch and it just wasn't a battle worth fighting with her.

I was in the kitchen chopping up fresh garlic for our lasagna dinner when I heard the doorbell ring. I wasn't expecting anyone and our house was so far out from the main road that I doubted it was a salesman of any kind. I assumed that it was Walker.

"Mooooom! Someone's at the door!"

"I know, Brae. I'm coming as fast as I can."

I wiped my hands off on my red kitchen towel and made my way into the living room so I could see who was at the door. Braelynn had textbooks all over the coffee table and notebook paper spread all over the couch. I would never understand how she worked like that. I had to have all of my stuff neatly spread out and stacked together according to topic. She just tossed stuff everywhere. I flicked on the porch light because it was getting dark outside and peaked through the side window by the door. Keaton was standing on the porch holding a bouquet of orange tiger lilies, Braelynn's favorite flower. He wasn't here to see me. Keaton saw me looking out the window and gave me a small wave.

"It's for you."

"For me? Who would be coming to see me?"

"I guess you better get your butt over here and find out."

Braelynn jumped off the couch and slid her way over to the front door. She didn't even bother to peak out of the window like I did. She just snatched the door open and let out a huge squeal as soon as she saw who was on the other side. The flowers in Keaton's hands were all but squished as she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. It made my heart so happy to see her with him. They both loved each other so much.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. I've been kind of a jerk and I wanted to make it up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Can I come in first?" Keaton laughed as he put Braelynn down and walked in the house. I shut the door behind him as Braelynn drug him by the arm into the kitchen to put her flowers in a vase. I already know that they'll be on her nightstand before the day is over. Keaton shed his brown suede jacket while she was filling the vase with water. She kept looking back at me and smiling. I hadn't seen her this excited in a very long time. It made me feel like a terrible parent. Why didn't I see what I was doing to her by pushing Keaton away?

"Just because your mom and I got mad at each other and decided not to see each other anymore doesn't mean that I should have just stopped coming to see you. I love you, little bit. And I always will. And I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry for not being here. I'm sorry for being a jerk. And I want to make it up to you."

"Oh. Does that mean you're coming home?"

"Well," his voice trailed off as he turned and looked at me. The look on his face said that he had no idea what to tell her. He wanted my help.

"Not yet. Keaton and I talked earlier today and we need to work some things out first before he comes back here."

"You mean you need to work some things out first?"

"Hey, don't talk to your mother like that. Don't be like that, Braelynn. What happened between your mom and I wasn't all your mother's fault. And regardless of what happened between us, she is your mother and you're going to show her respect. You got it?"

"Yeah." She chewed on the inside of her lip and started fooling with the flowers, trying to pretend that nothing had happened. It felt good to have someone else back me up. Being a single parent was hard enough but being a single parent to such a headstrong girl was a nightmare sometimes.

"We both have some things we need to work out, sweetheart. Neither one of us want to give you false hope about things but Keaton and I do love each other and we do want to work things out so that Keaton can come home, okay? You have to be patient with both of us. Sometimes adults are really messed up. For now, though, Keaton is welcome over here any time and I will take you to see him anytime you want and he isn't busy. One of the biggest things Keaton wants to work on is his relationship with you. I think he's missed you more than he's missed me."

"That's because I'm cooler than you, just saying."

She stuck her tongue out at me and then drug Keaton off to the living room. I heard her shuffling around papers and books and then the TV turning on. Before I could get to the living room I heard Keaton telling her that she needed to ask me about watching TV. And then I heard the huffing sound that had become Braelynn's theme music. Huff, snort, shuffle, flop. When I got to the living room she was flopped over the arm of the couch.

"Something wrong?"

"Keaton says I have to ask you if we can watch TV."

"Are you done with your homework?"

"My project isn't due for another two weeks. Do you think could have a night off so I can spend time with Keaton? It's not really fair to do homework while he's here."

"Fine. One night."

"Thank you, momma. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I went back to the kitchen to finish dinner and to let them have some time to themselves. I was thrilled to have Keaton here with her but I was also hoping that he would stick around after she went to bed so that we could have some time alone together too. He and his kisses kept running through my head all day at work. I just wanted to come home and curl up in his lap and let him kiss me until we passed out. I had shut him out for too long and I wasn't going to do it anymore. I wanted him back in our lives, here in this house. I wanted to be his wife when the time was right. I wanted us to be a family again. And maybe even add to our family. Braelynn would be a good big sister.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Braelynn and Keaton ate dinner in front of the TV while they were watching basketball. I spent the rest of the night in my office going over stuff from today's case. I kept reading and re-reading my notes to see if I had missed something. Why would Gunner lie about seeing Chloe on Tuesday? Did he kill her on Tuesday and dump her Friday morning? And why the note to me? It made no sense. I didn't understand how the note tied in with everything else. I hadn't even spoken to Gunner since our high school graduation and even then we weren't really friends. It was just idle chit-chat. Why would he drag me into the middle of this — whatever this was. And why kill that poor girl? From what her mother had told me it sounded like she had already been through enough. Why not just let her leave? Was he really that controlling?

"Knock knock."

I looked up to see Keaton leaning in the doorway of my office. He was biting his lip and staring at me with his hands on either side of the door. I wanted nothing more than to get up out of my chair and run my fingers through his messy hair. Everything about him exuded sex. I wasn't the only one who noticed it. I saw how women responded to him. That's why I wasn't the least bit shocked to find out that he had a girlfriend. A busty, young girlfriend at that.

"Braelynn go to bed?"

"Yes. I figured since you had yet to come out of here that you were busy so I helped her get her books together and lay out her clothes for tomorrow. She told me to tell you she loves you."

"Thank you."

"Anytime. I knew I missed doing that but I didn't realize how much until I turned off the light in her bedroom. So, what's kept you in here all night?"

"A dead girl. And an ex-boyfriend."

"I don't know anything about a dead girl."

"Funny. It's complicated and it makes no sense."

"Care to bounce it off of me and see if I can help you make sense of it?"

"Okay. Let's see what you've got. After you went back to work I got a call from my captain telling me I needed to get to the office ASAP because a letter had been sent to the office addressed to me. The letter gives clues and coordinates to find a dead body. The coordinates and the clues led us to the botanical gardens. We found her in the bamboo behind the koi pond. I figured out the clue because embarrassingly enough it was in reference to the place that I almost lost my virginity. Since I told no one about that day I had to go interview the boyfriend that I was with at the time to see if he had told anyone or if he knew anything about the letter. Lo and behold, the dead girl in the bamboo where he almost took my virginity was his fiancé. Only, he didn't want to come down and ID her and he lied to me and told me that he hadn't seen her in a week because they had gotten into a fight on her birthday last Friday. And then I speak to her mother who tells me that the girl had seen him on Tuesday because they were making wedding plans. So, now I'm waiting on an arrest warrant for him. Oh, and the dead girl had on these brand new tennis shoes that had blood only on the soles but the blood wasn't hers. And when the DNA was run it matched a girl's DNA who went missing last week. Okay, go."

"Yeah — Colonel Mustard in the library with the candlestick?"

"Thanks, jerk."

"Oh, don't be like that. I'm sorry I'm not more help." He walked over to my chair and reached out for my hands. I slipped my hands into his and he pulled me up into him, folding me into his arm so that my head was on his chest. "You'll figure it out, though. I know you. If anyone has a hope in hell of finding out who did this, it's you. As much as I hate to, I should probably get going. I'm kind of sleepy and I still have to drive home."

I looked up at him and saw his droopy eyes. He was definitely sleepy. Keaton lived right down the road from his restaurant in Hoover which was about a thirty minute drive from my house. I didn't want him to be driving home sleepy but I didn't want him to leave yet either. He was watching me with an eyebrow cocked possibly trying to figure out what I was thinking. Oh, how I had missed being in these strong arms looking up at that sexy, sleepy face.

"Am I moving too fast if I ask you to stay?"

"I was hoping you would." He smiled as he kissed me, gently nibbling my bottom lip. My body responded by pushing my hips into him. He smiled some more as he worked his way from my lips down to my jawline. My fingers were digging into the muscles of his upper arms as I tried to keep myself from throwing him on the floor and showing him that I still remembered exactly what he liked in the exact places he liked them. My brain was buzzing from excitement. I wasn't sure how much more I could take before I exploded and he was only kissing me.

"I love you," he growled between the kisses he was placing down my neck.

"I love you, too," I growled back as he bit into my collar bone. A moan escaped from my lips and that was apparently the only invitation he needed. Before I could catch my breath he had swept me off of my feet and was carrying me into my bedroom. I let out a giggle when he threw me down on the bed. Keaton grinned at me as he leaned over, unbuttoned my jeans, and slowly pulled them down my legs inch by agonizing inch. He slid back up my body and just as slowly pulled off my shirt and my bra. He was trying to tease me and it was working.

"Brodie Barrett, you have got to be the sexiest woman I have ever laid eyes on."

"Why, thank you." I squeaked as I tried to cover my now semi-naked self with my hands. Being naked in front of anyone had never been a strong point. When Keaton realized what I was doing he snatched my hands up over my head and pinned them with one of his large hands. Too say I was turned on was definitely an understatement.

"You think I'm going to run away?" I laughed as I looked up towards my wrists pinned under his hand.

"Maybe. You've done it before."

"I'm tired of running."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me, and he loosened his grip on my wrists as he leaned down to kiss me. This kiss wasn't like before when he was trying to show how much he wanted me. This was deeper than that. He was trying to kiss me all the way down to my soul. I felt like he was invading my brain and my body and I didn't ever want to let him go. Keaton slid his hands down to my waist and started maneuvering my panties off while I was still underneath him. Once he had me completely naked he worked his jeans and boxers off with one hand while the other braced himself over me. I pushed him back onto his knees and pulled his shirt up over his head, giggled when his arms got caught in the sleeves and he nearly toppled off the bed.

"Now who's running?"

"Excuse you, I was not running. I believe you just tried to strangle me using my own shirt and arms."

Keaton grinned and pushed me back down on to the bed, kissing his way down my neck. He entered me as slowly and gently as he had done everything else, teasing me all over again. I let out a sharp gasp as memories of his tan muscular body thrusting into mine flooded my brain. He had begun to set up a rhythm, slow and torturous, while he kissed and licked and nibbled every inch of my upper body. I arched my back as his mouth found my nipple and he bit down hard causing me to cry out from pleasure and pain. The feeling of his skin gliding against me felt like being too close to a flame, the heat was almost unbearable. I was lost inside this moment of being wrapped up in his arms when I heard a whining sound. I thought maybe I had imagined it and focused myself back on Keaton, using my legs to pull him deeper into me. He began to rock faster, grinding me into the bed, when I heard the whining again. This time it was louder. He thrust into me hard one last time, biting his lip and moaning, before he stopped and looked around the room.

The whining got even louder and then there was howling sound that sounded like something dying. I pushed myself up on my elbows to look around the room and that's when I saw Roscoe lying in front of my closet door with his paws over his eyes. He must have sneaked into the bedroom before Keaton had shut the door and now he was trapped in the room with us, forced to listen to us panting and moaning. Stupid dog. He moved his paws off of his eyes long enough to look at us and whine again. Keaton pulled himself off the bed, laughing, and opened the bedroom door to let Roscoe out.

"That dog has serious issues. Now, where were we?"

Keaton crawled back into the bed and laughed as he pulled me to his chest. He stroked my hair and my shoulder as I ran my hand through his thick, curly brown chest hair.

"Brodie?"

"Hmm?"

"Let me come home. Don't you think it will be easier to work out everything together if we're actually together? Besides, this is the first night I've come over here and you didn't even want me to leave. Do you think any other night is going to be any different?"

"You're probably right."

Keaton's head shot up and he looked down at me.

"Is that a yes?"

"Have you talked to Kailee?"

"Not yet. I haven't had a chance. I didn't want to have that conversation at work. It's bad enough that people at work know we date. I don't want them to hear us breaking up. Plus, she's kind of dramatic as well so I'm probably going to have to end up firing her."

"Will you talk to her tomorrow?"

"First thing in the morning if that is what I need to do."

"You can come home."

"I love you so fucking much, Brodie."

"I love you too, Keaton."

"One more question."

"Hmm?" I said sleepily. I was drifting off into dreamland when I heard him take a deep breath.

"Will you wear the ring now?"

"What?" my eyes shot open.

"The ring. You know, the one from the plane? Will you wear it now? Or is that taking things too far?"

"You kept it?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"It might sound stupid but I was hoping that one day I'd be able to actually put it on your finger. And it was my nonna's ring so I can't really get rid of it anyway."

"Is this your way of proposing to me? With a pregnant girlfriend waiting up for you?"

"First of all, I doubt she's waiting up for me. Just like I doubt she's really pregnant. Our relationship isn't even anything like you think. As shitty as it sounds I pretty much used her."

"As shitty as it sounds, I like hearing that better than I would like hearing that you really had feelings for her."

"I have feelings for you. And yeah, in answer to your question, I guess I am proposing. Can I come home and marry you and be Braelynn's step-daddy and be your crotchety old husband who steals the sports section out of your newspaper and drinks up all the coffee?"

"You're such a romantic."

"Yeah, you bring that out in me. Damnit, answer my question, Brodie."

"Yes. Yes, you can come home. And yes, I'll wear the ring."

"And plan the wedding."

"And plan the wedding."

Keaton kissed me long and hard, pulling my body against his. I couldn't believe that I had even said the words out loud but I knew in my hear that it was right. I knew that he wouldn't hurt me. I knew with everything in me that he wanted to be with me and Braelynn and protect us from everything bad in this world. I knew that he would love us with everything he had. I knew I was ready this time. I was ready to be someone else's wife. I was ready to build a family again. I was ready to be Keaton's wife. As soon as he resolved this pregnant girlfriend thing.

When I woke up the next morning, my left hand felt heavy. I wiggled it around a minute before turning my head to look and see what was wrong. I folded my fingers into my palm and felt the cold metal around my ring finger. A ring. There was a ring on my finger. On my left hand. I was wearing a ring. My eyes shot open and I stared at my hand. There it was. The most beautiful square cut diamond was staring back at me. It was 3 carats with a halo of smaller diamonds around it and double bands also covered in diamonds. Of course, I had seen this ring before on that plane in St. Louis. This was the first time I had worn it, though. Sneaky Keaton had brought it with him last night hoping that he could plead his case and I would give in. He apparently knew me all too well. It didn't take much persuasion on my part. This ring belonged to his grandmother on his mother's side. Rosanella Genovese was Keaton's hero. Most little boys looked up to their fathers and grandfathers but not Keaton. He was enamored by his Nonna Rosie and her ability to take ingredients and turn them into masterpieces. She passed away before I got a chance to meet her but from the stories I'd heard from Keaton she was nothing short of amazing.

I rolled over to kiss him and saw that he wasn't there. I thought maybe he had already sneaked out for day when the smell of bacon wafted into my nostrils. I quickly threw on a powder blue silk button down shirt, gray slacks, and my favorite black boots. The clock on the nightstand said it was nine o'clock. I should have had Braelynn at the bus stop at seven forty five. Shit! I sped-brushed my teeth, threw my hair up in a messy bun, and took off down the hallway.

"Braelynn, get up!! Mommy's running late. Again!!"

She wasn't in her room so I dashed into the kitchen, hoping she was already dressed and ready to go. I'd had to take her to school quite a few times since Keaton had been gone. It was always the same conversation with her teachers and the principal. I definitely wasn't looking forward to it today. And to top it all off, I was supposed to be in the office at nine thirty. I went ahead and sent Beau a text telling him I would be late. When I rounded the corner in the kitchen the only person there was Keaton.

"She's been gone for over an hour and a half. And she has her lunch. Don't worry."

He looked up at me over a plate full of grits, biscuits, and a large omelet. Keaton could cook like no one else I'd ever met. Eggs were one of the easiest things in the world to cook yet somehow he managed to make them taste like a five-star gourmet meal. I sat down at my antique green Formica kitchenette that I had bought at an antique store in Savannah, Georgia on mine and Greyson's third anniversary trip. It even had the plastic padded chairs to match it. Keaton set the plate down in front of me, placed a fork and a napkin next to it, and kissed the top of my head. Before I could get my hands on him, he was pouring me a glass of orange juice. He was wearing one of my old police academy t-shirts and the same tight pair of jeans from last night. I watch him pad barefoot across the kitchen and then back to the table carrying his own breakfast plate.

"This smells delicious. Thank you for getting Braelynn up and out the door. Why didn't you wake me, though? Did she say anything?"

"I didn't wake you because I figured you could use the sleep. And I wanted to walk her to the school bus. I wanted to talk to her. She told me quite a few things but I've been sworn to secrecy, sorry. I will tell you that she loves you very much and she just wants you to be happy. Oh, and she told me that she knew when I showed up at the door that I wasn't going to be leaving. How she knew, I don't know but she's a very perceptible little girl."

"Sworn to secrecy? Horseshit. You better not hide things from me about my own daughter."

"You need to hush, woman. You know if I thought it was something you needed to know I would tell you. Other than that, you can forget it. I've already betrayed her trust once. I won't do it again. You look nice by the way. Different. You put some makeup on?"

"No. None."

"Hmm. Oh, I know what it is" he reached across the table and grabbed my left hand, fingering my ring. I smiled and stuffed another bite of the omelet into my mouth.

"It is a really beautiful ring" I said with a mouthful of omelet and grits.

"If only you're eating habits were as beautiful." He laughed and let go of my hand so that he could devour his own plate of food. We were eating in silence when my doorbell rang. I jumped up and answered the door without looking through the window. Walker was standing on the porch. He was shoving his phone into his tan suit jacket when I opened the door. He had on a cream colored turtleneck, dark brown slacks, and his favorite brown Ferregamo loafers. He must have been going to do some actual work in his office today. Walker never wore suit jacket unless he thought he was going to be seen by someone who was more important than him.

"Good morning, asshole. Can I come in?"

"I deserved that. Come in, please. Nice jacket."

"Thanks. Mom bought it yesterday. She and Chelsea went on another one of their shopping sprees. Chelsea is trying to decide if she wants a formal wedding or something more casual. This was one of the casual options. Listen, about yesterday, I'm really sorry. I guess I should have given you more warning. And I should have stepped in when my mother got out of hand. I know you think she doesn't like you, Brodie, but she does. And she genuinely cares about your happiness. And of course, because of her business relationship with Keaton, she cares about him too. She knows that you two miss each other —"

Walker's speech trailed off and I noticed him staring at my left hand. I looked down at the giant rock on my hand and then back up at him with a sheepish grin. He cocked an eyebrow at me and pulled my hand up to his face to get a closer look.

"What the hell is this?"

Isn't it beautiful?" I gushed sounding nothing like myself and more like Chelsea.

"It's — uh — It's something. I'm confused."

Keaton walked into the living room and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed my cheek and then extended a hand for Walker to shake it. Walker shook his hand limply while still looking dumbfounded. I let out a small giggle and covered my mouth with my left hand catching the light with my ring so that it reflected in my eye. I really hope I get use to wearing this gigantic thing.

"Well, hello, Keaton. Nice ring, man."

"It was my nonna's. Listen," he said as he was pulling his jacket off of the coat rack. "I've got to get to the restaurant and take care of some business. I hope you have a good day at work and I'll see you tonight. I love you." He kissed me on the nose, patted Walker on the arm, and then walked out the door. The reminder that he would be back here tonight was buzzing in my brain. My heart was fluttering at the thought of being snuggled up next to him again.

"What the hell was that all about?" Walker gestured towards the front door.

"He brought me home yesterday and we really talked about things. Finally. And neither one of us want to be over. He came over last night to see Braelynn and he stayed after she went to bed so that we could talk some more and we decided that he should move back in. We can work on things better if we're actually together. The ring was just an added bonus."

"Are you kidding me? Look, I know mom was trying to get you guys to start talking again but do you really think this is a good idea? You know he's got a girlfriend, right? A pregnant girlfriend?"

"He's ending it. That's where he's going now, actually. And even if she is pregnant it may not be his. We'll just have to wait for a paternity test. And if it is his, we will support the baby. Already discussed this."

Walker ran his hand down his face and then shoved both hands in his pockets. He leaned back against the arm of one of the chairs in the living room. I could tell that he wasn't happy and I understood his concern. He and I had been friends since the 8th grade. He was always concerned when it came to me and guys. The first year of mine and Grayson's marriage Walker spent the entire time giving Grayson grief and trying to play the big protective brother. I know he meant well.

"Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. I should have been nicer to her mother. After all, she's the reason that this ring is even on my freaking finger right now. Is this thing not huge? So how's wedding planning going with you guys? Oh, my gosh! Walker, we should totally have a double wedding!"

"You're really an asshole, you know that." He laughed and punched me in the arm.

"Yeah, yeah. Oh, hey, while you're here can I pick your brain for a minute?"

"Work or personal?"

"Work. Confidential for now."

"Got it. Shoot."

"You still have contact with Gunner Hayes?"

"Off the record, yes. He plays poker with me and some of the other lawyers from my building. Why, what's up?"

"It's a long complicated story but his fiancé is dead and I think he's involved somehow. How close are you guys? I mean, do you and him talk outside of this poker game that I know nothing about?"

"We talk quite a bit actually. He designed some spreadsheet software for the firm and he plays golf with me and Greg. Why on earth would he kill his fiancé?"

"I have no idea, Walker, but when I went to talk to him about it he acted really weird and refused to come down to the station for questioning. And also told me that he hadn't seen her in a week. Then, her mother told me later yesterday afternoon that he had seen her on Tuesday because they were going over wedding plans. Did he ever talk about her? Her mother made him sound like a real dick head but I don't remember him being like that?"

"He talked about her all the time. He worshiped the ground that girl walked on. Hey, I don't know why I just thought of this but she and Chelsea are friends. Well, were, I guess. They were sorority sisters and pageant friends. You should talk to Chelsea."

"Do I have to?"

"Brodie, stop. If you would just take the chance to get to know her, I'm pretty sure that you would love Chelsea just as much as I do. Besides, if you want some insider information on Chloe and Gunner's relationship Chelsea might know some things. Or at least know someone who would. And I can confirm that Gunner saw her on Tuesday because poker nights are on Tuesdays and he was telling me that Chloe was upset because she wanted him to fly in some certain kind of rose from France instead of just using the roses at the botanical gardens where they were planning on getting married."

"Thanks. Want to know something really creepy?"

"Of course."

"We found her at the botanical gardens."

"No shit? Wow. I'll keep my ear to the ground in case I hear anything that I think might help you. I would have never guessed Gunner would even have it in him to do something like this but you never really know people, do you?"

"No, I don't guess you do. I've got to get to work. Let's have lunch sometime this week."

"Sounds good. Give Chelsea a call. You can talk to her about wedding plans."

I drove into work jamming to Jason Aldean and drumming on my steering wheel. I was in such a good mood today that I wasn't even annoyed when the radio changed to a Taylor Swift song. I even caught myself singing along to her stupid song. Nothing could ruin my good mood. At least I hope not. I pulled into the precinct and hummed to myself all the way to my desk. There was a bouquet of red roses in a silver vase sitting in the middle of my desk. I immediately knew that they weren't from Keaton. I hated red roses so I knew that he wouldn't have sent them to me. I yanked the card off of the little plastic stake and opened the envelope.

On the front of the card was a picture of the Wurlitzer from the Alabama Theater. It was a large organ that came up from the floor of the stage when someone was playing it and then lowered back down into the floor when it wasn't in use. It always reminded me of the Phantom of the Opera. I flipped the card over and then on the other side was a note, addressed to me, from the killer.

I Took A Ride On the Wurlitzer

Brodie,

Congrats on finding Chloe. Isn't she beautiful? It's too bad that had to die. I promise her death served a purpose though. It got you to pay attention to me. Now, are you ready for another round? This body can be found in a place with lots of loud sounds. Have fun!

A picture of a Wurlitzer organ and a riddle about lots of loud sounds? The Alabama Theater had to be it. Their surround sound was some of the loudest I had heard thanks to the natural acoustics of the theater. I remembered sitting in the balcony as a kid, watching Jurassic Park with my parents and jumping up so high when the T-Rex roared on the screen that my dad had to grab me by the shirt to keep me from going over the railing. It could definitely get loud in there. Before I could get a chance to pull my phone out of my pocket and call Beau, he was standing at my desk.

"ME sent me the autopsy report."

"That was fast."

"Captain has a suspicion that this won't be the last body so until we find the killer this case is top priority for everyone. Strangulation. But the killer gave her phenobarbital to make her pass out so that she wouldn't fight him. He also cleaned out from under her fingernails just in case she had any of his DNA. Whoever did this knew what they were doing."

"Well, the captain was right. Take a look at this. Did you see who delivered these?"

"No, I've been downstairs since I got here. I'll ask around. We can check security tapes in a minute. Where do you think this one will be?"

"From the clue and the picture on the card, the Alabama Theater. Any news on the arrest warrant?"

"Not yet."

As if he had been hiding around the corner eavesdropping, Captain Stephens came walking towards us holding a blue sheet of paper. He stopped in front of me and held out the paper. I opened it to read one arrest warrant for Gunner Hayes. Now, I just had to hope that he wasn't smart enough to have conveniently disappeared somewhere.

"Nice flowers, Barrett. New boyfriend?"

"They're from the killer."

"Another body? Where?"

"I'm guessing the Alabama Theater." I wiggled the card at him. He snatched it from my hand and turned it over to read the clue.

"Get on it. Find that body and then go get Gunner. If no one else knows about the warrant then you should be able to wait a little longer to bring him in. Let's get this taken care of quick. We need to find this damn guy before more people end up dead."

"You're right. Let's go. I'll buy coffee."

"Forget the coffee; let's just get this over with. I'll buy a round a beers after work."

"Sounds good."

When we walked into the Alabama Theater two older ladies met us at the door. They had apparently just found the body and were waiting on the police to arrive. The oldest (I'm guessing) of the two was fanning herself with a white lace handkerchief. She looked to be about 5 foot tall and probably weighed one hundred pounds soaking wet with ten pounds of pennies in her pockets. Her hair was in the shape of a helmet ad was that light blue gray color that older ladies wear. Her glasses were so thick that they magnified her eyes. She looked like a fly wearing a blue-hair helmet. The younger of the two kept clutching her ample chest as if she were practicing a Fred Sanford impersonation. She was taller, probably five foot six and was chubby in her mid-section. She looked like a Weeble that was about to wobble her way into a heart attack. Her bright red lipstick seemed to wash out every other feature on her wide face. They were both talking ninety miles an hour so Beau and I just stood there and waited for one of them to take a breath. The oldest one was the first to stop.

"Well, the hell are you two doing just standing there?"

"Mam," Beau chuckled "you two were talking so fast there was no way to get a word in. I take it you two ladies found the body?"

"Yes! And I nearly peed myself when we did find her! Never in all my years working here did I think that the Wurlitzer would come up through that damn floor with a dead girl on it! Lord, help me. I think I might be having a heart attack!" The larger of the two wheezed between chest clutches.

"Now, Gloria, you nearly pee yourself every time you take a step, you old bat."

"Do we need to call an ambulance for you, ma'am?" I asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep from laughing at these two old ladies.

"No. No. I'll be fine." She straightened up when she saw Beau watching her. "Come on. You two need to hurry up and do what you do and get her out of here. Maude, you better call that priest of yours and have him come pray over this place. The devil has certainly made a home here."

"I'm Detective Barrett. Did either one of you see anyone suspicious around here this morning?"

"No. Just me and Maude this morning. I'm not one hundred percent sure who was here last night but I'm sure you can talk to Jimmy. He's our general manager. He would know."

"Okay, thank you, ladies. And are you with housekeeping?"

"Yes, darlin'. Been working here for twenty something years. Oh, and Maude has been here for fifteen."

"Alright. Why don't you two take a break? If we think of any more questions we will come and find you. And if you think of anything else that might help us out, you know where to find us. Or you can call me later." I said as I handed them both a business card.

Beau and I walked into the theater and headed toward the stage all while he was giggling like a little girl. When we walked up on the left-side of the stage, his giggling stopped. The Wurlitzer was five feet away from us. It had three rows of piano keys and pipes coming out from the top. Sitting on seat in front of the Wurlitzer, with her head down to her chest, was the new dead girl. She had long, rust colored hair that curled down her back. As I walked around to get a look at her face I noticed she had cuts on her hands. I pulled a pair of gloves out of my blazer pocket and put them on so that I could lift up her head to get a good look at her face. When I titled her head up I saw a large gaping wound on her neck running from ear to ear. Someone had slashed this poor girl's throat. Her eyes were wide open in shock, blood shot and glazed over, but I could tell they were a shade of green. Her nose was swollen and looked as if it had been broken. Her lip was busted and there was a cut on her cheek. Our killer had obviously not been as gentle with her as he had been with Chloe.

She was wearing a black sequin halter top, a black leather mini-skirt, and knee-high black suede stiletto boots. Either our killer had dressed her this way or she had been dressed for a night out. Her shoulders had scratches and bruises on them in the shape of fingers. Her thighs were black and blue as if someone had been punching her. The new dead girl went through hell.

"It's a shame. She was a pretty girl."

"Yeah. Looks like he didn't give her the same courtesy he gave Chloe. You call it in?"

"Yup. Here comes CSU, now. You know, as long as I've been doing this job, I've still never understood how a person could do something like this to another person. Look at this girl. That took a lot of rage. Why not just cut her throat and be done with it? Why beat the hell out of her first?"

"Maybe she put up a fight and pissed him off?"

"I hope I never piss this guy off."

"Yeah, I wish I had never showed up on his radar."

"I bet. Still no idea who it might be?"

"Not a clue, Beau. Not a clue. I stayed up all night trying to figure out the connection between the letter, Chloe, and Gunner. And why Gunner would have lied to me about seeing her this week. And why the hell someone would send me these notes. And how in the hell Chloe got the blood of another missing — Holy shit! Beau, do you think this is Janelle? It's a little hard to tell but she kind of looks like the girl in the picture in the file."

"Now that you mention it, she does look like her. If Chloe had her blood only on the bottom of her shoes then she must have stepped in it after he did — whatever it is he did to this girl. She could have already been dead when he snatched Chloe."

"Why can't things just be simple?"

"Speaking of simple. You going to tell me about that giant rock on your finger?"

Beau pointed at my finger and grinned. He had been on me for a while about trying to work things out with Keaton. Beau had been Keaton's biggest fan. Any time he saw Keaton he always gave me a full report, making sure to include how sad Keaton looked. I would have never admitted it to Beau but I loved getting his Keaton updates. Especially, the part about Keaton looking sad at the mention of my name. I loved knowing that he missed me like I missed him.

"Surprise!" I wiggled my fingers at him and giggled. Some people would have found it in poor taste to be laughing and flaunting a diamond ring while standing over a dead body but for Beau and me it was just part of it. We had to be able to joke around or the job would really start to get to us. We knew that this dead body wasn't just a body. It was someone's family member, someone's best friend, someone's baby girl. Making jokes was our way of coping.

"When did this happen? I didn't even know that you and Keaton were speaking to each other."

"Yesterday. We weren't but it just sort of happened. I'm so happy I can't stand myself, Beau. I was singing Taylor Swift in the damn truck on the way to work."

"In that case, maybe you should take a step back." We both laughed and moved out of the way as CSU took control of the crime scene. Beau walked off to talk their supervisor and I made my way down the stage back into the seating area, pulling my gloves off and tossing them in the CSU trash on my way. I sat down in the front row of seats and took some notes while I waited on Beau to finish talking. I even made a little sketch of the stage and the Wurlitzer to look at later. I knew I'd be spending another night in my office asking myself ridiculous questions in order to try and solve this case. If this was Janelle, then Beau was probably right and she probably was dead before this guy — whoever he was — had snatched Chloe. I had a feeling though that Janelle and Chloe were connected in some way. Walker had mentioned that Chloe was in a sorority. I was trying to rattle my brain and see if I could jog my memory so that I could remember what Janelle's file had said. Was she in a sorority as well? No, she didn't even go to the same college as Chloe and Chelsea. She was a medical student. Maybe she went to the same high school? Or maybe she was connected to Gunner in some way? While I was writing down possible connections, Beau had walked down and sat next to me. I could feel him reading over my shoulder.

"You think these girls are connected? Who is Chelsea?"

"Yes, I think somehow they are. I'm not just not sure how, yet. You remember my friend Walker?"

"The lawyer?"

"Yeah. Chelsea is his fiancée. I saw him this morning and I asked him if he was still close with Gunner. You know we all went to high school together. He and Gunner had been friends. He told me that he and Gunner still spoke quite often and even played golf together. And then he dropped the bomb on me that Chelsea and Chloe were in the same sorority in college. He also confirmed Chloe's mother's statement about Chloe and Gunner seeing each other on Tuesday. Chloe and Chelsea had seen each other on Tuesday to discuss wedding plans after she had seen Gunner and had lunch with her mother. Walker saw Gunner Tuesday night and he mentioned in passing that Chloe had been at his office that day and they had gotten into a small tiff over some roses."

"The rose garden?"

"No. Spoiled brat wanted some certain type of roses flown in from Paris instead of just using the roses from the botanical gardens."

"So, was Janelle in a sorority?"

"No. She didn't even go to the same college. She's in med school at UAB. I have no idea. It was just a thought."

"Sounds pretty good, so far. With what we have anyway. Come on; let's go arrest your lover."

"Hey, dick head. Don't even call him that. It was a long time ago. And it didn't even happen."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go." Beau laughed and pulled me up out of the seat. We checked on the two old ladies before we left the theater. They assured us that they would be fine. And would be praying for us that we caught this creep as soon as possible. Beau and I left the theater and stopped by Starbucks. He insisted that he had to have some coffee. He got a straight black coffee and a white chocolate mocha for me. White chocolate mochas were my favorite. Beau knew I wouldn't be able to resist. After our impromptu coffee stop, we parked in a parking deck at the end of the block where the Wells Fargo building was and walked the block to the building. I suggested that we skip the elevator and take the stairs but Beau refused. We entered the pee scented elevator and waited as it crawled up to the fourth floor. When the elevator doors opened, I jumped out as quickly as I could so that I could breathe. I'd been holding my breath the whole time. Beau buttoned his suit jacket and walked through the glass paneled door to Gunner's office. I followed in behind him just in time to hear Chatty Cathy flirting with him.

"Oh, it's you, again."

"Uh — yeah. It's me, again. Is he in?"

"I think he's busy. Maybe you should come back later."

"I need you to go ahead and let him know that we're here. Either that or I can walk in there myself."

"Just come back later, like I said. It can't be that important."

"How about this," I said as I waved the arrest warrant in her crayon streaked face, "I have a warrant for his arrest and I'm going in there, now."

I opened the doors to Gunner's office and saw him sitting behind his desk talking to Chloe's mother. Her eyes were swollen red and her face was streaked with tears and black mascara. He was shoving a check across his desk. Had this bastard just tried to buy off Chloe's mother?

"Detectives, what are you two doing here?"

"Mrs. Brasher, after our discussion yesterday we had someone else confirm that Gunner had seen Chloe on Tuesday. We're here to arrest him."

"Arrest me? On what grounds? Because I lied about seeing her on Tuesday? She just showed up dead. I didn't want to tell you I'd seen her a few days before. You would have thought I killed her."

"Are you serious? We think you killed her because you lied. Don't make a big deal out of this. Just come down to the station with us and answer some questions and then you can come right back to work."

"Not without a lawyer. I don't want some cop misconstruing what I say and making it look like I did something I didn't."

"Okay," I said as I pulled my handcuffs out from the holster on my belt, "you can call him from the office. Once he gets there we'll get this all over with."

"Brodie, don't do this. Come on, now. You know I didn't kill that girl. Do you really think that the same man who had used such gentle hands on you would hurt my fiancée?"

"Detective Barrett, you know him?"

"Mrs. Brasher, he was my ninth grade boyfriend. We dated for three months. We graduated from the same high school. Gunner just turn around so I can handcuff you. Don't make a scene."

Gunner turned around and placed his hands behind his back. I pulled his hands closer together so that I could cuff them. Beau escorted Mrs. Brasher out the door while I drug Gunner by the elbow out of the office. Chatty Cathy stood up, wide-eyed in shock, with her hand over her chest.

"What do you want me to do, Gunner?"

"Call Walker and have him meet me at the police station. Go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Walker? He's your lawyer."

"He's the best in town for these kinds of things, isn't he?"

"Get your ass out the door. I can't believe you lied to me."

We walked to the car in silence. Gunner kept opening his mouth to talk and Beau kept giving him evil looks to shut him up. We had read him his Miranda rights and even though we usually liked to hear what kind of stupid stuff came out of the mouths of most of our perps, we just wanted Gunner to be quiet. I know Beau wouldn't admit it but seeing these young girls made him think of his daughter who was in college in California.

Walker was sitting at my desk waiting for us when we walked into the office. He was playing on his phone as we walked up. Gunner cleared his throat and Walker looked up at us, smiling at me and then shaking his head at Gunner. I motioned for Walker to follow us down the hall. We walked to the interrogation room and I led Gunner in and sat him down in a chair. Beau walked in after me with Walker shutting the door behind him. Walker took his place next to Gunner while Beau sat down across from him. I excused myself and picked up the files for Chloe and Janelle. We didn't have an ID on the new dead girl yet but I was pretty sure it was Janelle. If I could get him to slip up and give me anything, any little thing, that sounded like he might know Janelle, I wanted to be ready.

"Okay, Gunner, let's get this over with. When was the last time you saw Chloe?"

"Tuesday. Around eleven o'clock. She was in my office for two hours. We had sex on the couch and then argued about wedding plans. She wanted me to drop three grand on some stupid roses from France even though we were getting married at the damn rose garden at the botanical gardens after she pitched a huge fit to get married there."

"You sound kind of mad?"

"Hell, man. Wouldn't you be upset if you were already giving your girl everything she wanted and it still wasn't enough? Chloe thought I was made of money. This wedding wasn't about us getting married. She wanted to do some big over the top production so she could make it into the Southern Living Wedding Edition."

"I see," Beau wrote something down on his notepad and nodded at me.

"What did you two fight about on Friday? You told us that you had a fight with her on Friday but said you were embarrassed about it and didn't want to tell us."

Gunner looked at Walker and then back at me. He leaned into Walker's shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Walker nodded and then whispered something back. I heard Gunner take in a large breath and then let it out, blowing papers on the table.

"I cheated on and she found out. She thought that I only bought the shoes to get her to stop being mad at me so she wouldn't take them. I tried to explain to her that I had ordered the shoes long before I cheated on her."

"With who? How many times? And how did she find out?"

"Selena, my secretary at the office. Twice. She walked in and caught Selena giving me a blow job on my couch in the office."

I grimaced at the mental image of that woman doing anything sexual. The thought of her doing something sexual with Gunner was even worse. I couldn't believe that he would cheat on someone like Chloe with the mascot for Crayola. His balls probably looked like a rainbow threw up on them after she was done. Yuck.

"Why her?" Beau had apparently been reading my mind.

"She was available. She's had a thing for me ever since I hired her a few years ago. I kept her around as a sort of stroke to my ego, I guess. Stupid, I know. The problems with Chloe started getting worse and worse and after one particularly bad fight where Chloe locked me out of my own house. I had her meet me at the office so that we could get some extra work done. While we were there I started talking to her about my problems with Chloe and true to every cliché, one thing led to another."

"Are you still sleeping with her?"

"Why? Does that thought bother you, Brodie?"

"Not in the least bit. I just need to know if you're still carrying on your affair while your fiancée was missing and then showing up dead in the gardens."

"We slept together last night. I was really drunk and upset and she was there."

"Does she think this is more than what it is?"

"No. We use each other for sex. That's it. She knows that."

Beau and I wrote down some notes on our pads. Gunner leaned back in the chair watching me as I was writing. I could see him out of the corner of my eye staring me down. He had definitely changed since our days together in high school. People did change but I would have never thought like this.

"Where did Chloe stay on Tuesday night? Her mother told us that you kept a tight leash on her so where would she have gone instead of staying with you?"

"Her mother acts like I controlled Chloe but that was far from the truth. Chloe would stay out all night drunk all the time. She would crash with some of her sorority sisters if she was too drunk to come home. Or if she was mad and thought she was teaching me some kind of lesson by not coming home. She had done it so much by this point that I didn't even think about it when she didn't come Tuesday night. Sometimes she stayed with Chelsea and then other times she stayed with some girl named Monica, I don't remember her last name. I think she lives over by the Brookwood Village? I honestly don't know. Chloe acted like such a child sometimes that most of the time I just ignored her antics. It got old after a while."

"Did Chloe have her phone with her when she left your office on Tuesday?"

"Yeah. She sent me a text message later that afternoon to tell me that she was going with Chelsea to look at bridesmaid dresses. That was the last I heard from her."

I scribbled some more notes on my pad. If Chloe was mad at him and didn't come home because she was trying to teach him a lesson, then why would she text him to tell him that she was going to look at bridesmaid dresses? That didn't seem like the type of a thing a mad woman would do. And she definitely wouldn't be looking at bridesmaid dresses right after an argument with her fiancé.

"Chloe have any enemies? Any men obsessed with her? Anyone that made you nervous?"

"Chloe had a ton of men who called her and texted her. And then the Facebook messages of course. Oh, and Snapchat. She was always sending some so-called friend of hers pictures of herself on Snapchat. Half-naked pictures. She wasn't as innocent as her mother made her out to be. Which, I don't blame her mother one bit for thinking that Chloe was angel. Chloe wanted her to think that and out of respect for Mrs. Brasher, I wouldn't have wanted to taint her view of Chloe. No one wants to think their little girl is a slut."

"She ever cheat on you?"

"I suspected a few times but she was smarter than I am and never got caught. I never had any real proof so I never confronted her about it. I just pretended like I didn't see the shit she was doing, hoping that she would get tired of acting out to try to get my attention, and she would start acting like an adult. I didn't kill Chloe, Brodie. And I miss the hell out of her. I never told her this but those nights when she wouldn't come home did get to me. I'd stay up all night worried out of my fucking mind about where she was or who she was with. She called me one night, drunk out of her mind, and I could hear some guy's voice in the background telling her to hang up because he wanted her to suck his cock and she couldn't do it if she was running her mouth on the phone. I sat up all night that night and cried like a little bitch. Cried. Like someone had run over my damn dog. I loved that girl, even if she was a slut and complete bitch. I thought that maybe if I finally married her that she would settle down and quit all of this ridiculous shit. Stupid, but I thought that maybe she was just doing all of this because she was pissed at me because all her friends were getting married and I hadn't popped the question." Gunner stopped talking when the tears started rolling down his cheeks. Once the first one reached his lips, several more followed. He began to sob with his head down to his chest, eerily in the same position as the new dead girl, and Beau, Walker, and I sat there in silence. I couldn't tell if his tears were genuine or if he was just a really good actor. Walker cleared his throat and stood up, pushing his chair into the table.

"I think that's enough for now. Clearly, my client is upset about the death of his fiancée. If you are not going to charge him with lying to the police, please release him now."

"We're not going to charge him" Beau said as he walked around behind Gunner to unlock his cuffs. "For now. I would advise you, Mr. Hayes, to stay close to home for the next few days. I'm sure we will have more questions later. Brodie, show Mr. Hayes out. I'm going to see the ME and see if we've gotten anything on the next case. "

I nodded and held the door open for Gunner. Walker waited for me to exit the interrogation room and then the three of us walked to the front door of the precinct. I stopped at the door and watched as Walker and Gunner walked outside and talked on the front steps. Walker held up a finger at me, signaling to wait a minute for him. He talked to Gunner for a moment longer and then re-entered the precinct. He shook his head as he slid his one hand into his pants pocket.

"What?"

"You didn't hear me say this because he is my client. And my friend. Brodie, I can't tell if he's lying or not. Those tears looked so real but none of the rest of his story makes sense."

"I was thinking the same thing. I don't know either, Walker. We got another body this morning. I think they're connected somehow but I never got a chance to ask him about her. I'm headed to the ME's office now to see if there's been any progress on the girl."

"You get another letter?"

"Yeah. Attached to some roses this time. And he wasn't as gentle with this girl as he was with Chloe. Although, I think she was already dead before he snatched Chloe."

"Where'd you find her?"

"The Alabama Theater."

"Why there?"

"I haven't figured that one out yet. The clue wasn't that hard on this one so I'm not sure how it was connected to me like the first clue was. She was sitting on the Wurlitzer. Nearly gave the two old cleaning ladies heart attacks when it came up out of the floor with a dead girl sitting on it."

Walker and I both doubled over in laughter at the thought of these two old women sweeping as a dead girl on a piano emerged from the floor. I did my best impression of Gloria walking around clutching her chest. We were still laughing when Captain Stephens walked out of his office and over to my desk.

"What the hell is so funny, Barrett? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Nothing, Captain. I'm sorry. I'm headed to the ME's office now. Walker, I'll give you a call later."

Walker saluted the Captain and then I quickly made my way to the ME's office and out of the glaring eye of Captain Stephens. I felt like I had just gotten in trouble in study hall for passing a note to a friend. Captain Stephens never smiled and any jokes that he did actually tell weren't even funny. Beau was sitting in the waiting room of the ME's office when I walked in. He had his eyes closed with his arms wrapped around his chest. I stuck my head in the door of the ME's lab to see Dr. Woods standing over the body of the new dead girl. She was taking pictures of the bruises on the girl's thighs when she looked up and saw me.

"I already told your partner it was going to be a while before I got a conclusive cause of death. I am working to get it done by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. He asked if he could catch a quick nap in the waiting room. I knew that I wasn't expecting anyone else so I gave him the go-ahead."

"Thanks, doc. You got an ID?"

"Yes, it's definitely Janelle. Matched her dental records. She had skin under her nails so I'm hoping I can get a DNA workup from it. Also found some wool fibers stuck to the sequins on her shirt. I'm not sure what they belong to at the moment but I'm working on it. There isn't much else I can give you for now."

"An ID is enough for now. Thanks. Give us a call as soon as you have a cause."

"Will do."

Dr. Woods called the following Monday and said that the cause of Janelle's death was asphyxiation caused by bilateral pneumothorax, or in laymen terms, two punctured lungs. The bastard had beaten her so badly that he'd broken her ribs and punctured both of her lungs, leaving her to die all alone. Dr. Woods also mentioned that she thought that Janelle had still been alive when she was placed on the Wurlitzer because of the blood pooling in her lower extremities. Whoever had killed these two girls had to have access to both of the dump places without being noticed. Or had access to these places when no one else was around. I still wasn't sure what the Alabama Theater had to do with me either and this killer was clearly interested in me. There had to be some kind of connection between me and The Alabama Theater.

I went into my office and opened the cedar chest by the closet. My grandfather had made this cedar chest for me as a wedding present. He had made one for my mother and all of my aunts for their weddings as well. I did just as they had and stuffed all of the important mementos of my life into the chest. If there was anything that could tie me to The Alabama Theater it had to be in this box. The smell of the cedar wood assaulted my nose when I lifted the lid. I closed my eyes and inhaled as much of the smooth, woodsy scent as I could. That scent would forever remind me of my grandfather and his rough hands covered in cedar shavings, always working on the next project he carved and cut and polished from cedar trees in his back yard. The top layer of junk in the chest was mostly newspaper articles about cases I had solved or community projects I had taken part in. Grayson and Braelynn had always insisted on keeping the articles. I kept moving stuff around, Braelynn's first outfit, her first pair of baby shoes, Grayson's baby shoes, my baby shoes, my first baseball glove, and my cap and gown from college were all floating around numerous photo boxes and photo albums. I pulled out the photo albums and began to turn back the pages of time, laughing and crying as the memories flipped from page to page.

After two hours of cruising down memory lane I was read to give up when I saw the last box in the very bottom of the chest. It was the size of a children's shoe box and was covered in decoupage flower printed tissue paper. I pulled off the lid and set it aside. Inside the box were pictures of me and my friends from junior high, a cassette tape, several folded notes from my best friends and the boys we had crushes on, a pom-pom with my school colors, and a handful of pins. One of the pins caught my eye. It was the largest one in the box. I picked it up and turned it over, revealing the same picture of the Wurlitzer that had been on the card stuck in the flowers on my desk. The words circling the Wurlitzer said "I Took a Ride on the Wurlitzer". Underneath the button was a picture of me and several of my friends all standing in front of this amazing piano machinery. We were all grinning ear to ear and I laughed out loud. I remembered that trip. In the 8th grade, our music and theater teacher, whom had been suspected of being schizophrenic, had taken us to see Hamlet. She had made sure that we had gotten to the theater early so that we could meet the people who operated the theater and to see the Wurlitzer up close. I remember that she had made us watch The Phantom of the Opera the day before we went and once we were up close and personal with the Wurlitzer we were all mesmerized by the possibility of a "phantom" in this theater. Especially Gunner.

Oh, shit. Gunner had been there that day too. I looked back at the picture of me and my smiling classmates. He was right there in the picture. He was standing behind me and Walker, grinning shyly at the camera. This was right before school would be out for the summer. And somewhere around the time where we had become friends. I remember that because we had gotten together that summer. And it had started that day at the Wurlitzer. I had gotten scared when we rode it down into the stage and he had held my hand. He hid our hands so that no one else could see them because he didn't want anyone to know and think that he was some guy who was walking around rescuing young girls from their irrational fears. He had a tough guy rep to protect. I didn't even know how to feel sitting there staring at that picture. Even though we had broken up after the ninth grade, we had still flirted and talked on the phone and sneaked out behind the field house at school to make out. Even when he had another girlfriend. Up until I met Grayson I had always thought that Gunner and I would eventually end up together and tell everyone cute stories about being high school sweethearts later in life. It all seemed so silly now. But had he thought the same thing? Had he been upset when I married Grayson? I needed some answers. I left Braelynn in Keaton's capable hands, jumped in my truck, and headed to the City Federal building. Thirty minutes later I was standing on the other side of Gunner's apartment door, waiting for him to answer.

"Brodie? What are you doing here?"

"Can we talk?"

"As friends or as suspect and detective?"

"Friends."

"Of course," he said as he stepped to the side of the door. He extended his arm towards his living room in a sweeping motion. "Come on in."

I walked into his plush white carpeted living room and immediately felt so out of place. I felt like I was standing inside one of those Glamour magazine spreads dedicated to upscale living. His black leather L-shaped couch sat in the middle of the living room, facing a gigantic flat screen TV that took up nearly the entire wall. There were silver side tables and blood red lamps with black shades on each table. The ottoman was the same blood red as the lamps and there were red throw pillows strewn across the couch. A crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling. Perfectly posed pictures of him and Chloe littered the mantle of the white marble fireplace.

"Wow. This place is beautiful."

"You should see the rest of it." He winked at me.

I pretended like I didn't hear his comment or see the winking of his eye. For all I knew he had a tic that made him talk like an asshole.

"So, unofficially, we have another dead girl."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. We found her on Friday before we came to pick you up. She was sitting on the seat of the Wurlitzer when the cleaning ladies pushed the button for it to rise up out of the stage floor. Can you imagine being one of those cleaning ladies? Humming old disco ditties to yourself as you're sweeping and then BAM! You're staring at a horribly disfigured dead girl."

"I imagine I'd shit myself."

"I thought the same thing!" I laughed as I sat down on the couch. I noticed the black marble bar in the corner. Gunner walked around it and pulled out two glasses from a lower shelf.

"Drink?"

"Whiskey?"

"Straight?"

"Is there any other way?"

"You always were my kind of woman, Brodie." He poured my drink and brought it to me, sitting down beside me on the couch. He was close enough to reach out and touch me but not close enough to seem imposing. "So, seeing as how we haven't seen each other in years, and when we finally do see each other you arrest me, can we still be considered friends?"

"Good point. But in my defense, I'm just doing my job. You have to admit you look suspicious. And that's actually kind of why I am here to talk to you. The killer leaves clues on where to find the bodies. He purposely sends clues addressed to me so that I am the one to find the bodies. These clues are personal to me. They are relevant to my past in some kind of way. Both of these clues involve you."

"So, you still think I'm the killer?"

"The first clue was where we first almost had sex. The second clue was the Wurlitzer. And I couldn't think of what that could possibly mean until I found this in the bottom of my cedar chest earlier tonight."

I handed him the picture of us on the Wurlitzer. He grinned a little as he studied the picture. I watched him and could tell that the wheels in his head were spinning. He was either trying to figure out how to keep stringing me along until he really was ready to finally be caught or he was trying to figure out who the hell would be using our memories to not only get me to find these bodies but to have Gunner take the fall for them.

"Man. I haven't thought about this in a hundred years. I had completely forgotten about it until you showed me this. You remember her making us watch The Phantom of the Opera the day before we went? I was so convinced that we were going to find the Alabama's phantom. And you were a little chicken shit."

"Hey! I wasn't that scared. I was just — cautious."

"Bullshit! You were so scared! And you weren't going to ride it unless Walker rode it with you. And he wouldn't ride it because he was stuck up Mackenzie Peppenheller's ass. So I rode it with you because I felt sorry for you."

"Good ole Peppenheller. That girl was a freaking nightmare. And you are so full of shit! You didn't ride that thing with me just because you felt sorry for me."

"Sure I did! You were going to be the only kid in the class who didn't ride it."

"Lies."

"What? I'm serious. I did it to be nice."

"Bullshit. If you had just done it to be nice you wouldn't have made sure that we were the only two on it other than the guy running it and you wouldn't have held my hand."

Gunner's grin spread wide across his face so that I could see all of his perfect white teeth. His dimples deepened in his cheeks and I saw a slight blush creeping up his neck. He really thought I didn't have a clue what he had been doing as a goofy kid. I knew the moment he slipped his hand around mine what he was doing.

"You didn't pull away."

"I was scared. I probably would have held Lon Chaney's hand!"

"Now, who's telling lies?"

So, now it was my turn to blush.

"Never mind. That part is irrelevant. Why are these two murders connected to memories that we have together? Memories that are significant to our childhood relationship with each other?"

"Do I still look guilty if I say I don't know?"

I took a long drag of my whiskey and sloshed it around in my mouth before swallowing it. I was thinking of how I was going to get him to open up to me and just admit what he had done. If I could get him going down memory lane maybe he would let his guard down and just fess up. Why would someone frame him for a murder?

"Do you know of anyone who would frame you for two murders? One of them being your fiancée?"

"No. But then again I don't know anyone who would want my fiancée dead either. That doesn't mean I did it."

"What about that nasty secretary of yours?"

"Selena? No. Despite the scandal between she and I, she really adored Chloe. I don't know why though. Chloe was such a fucking snob to her. Selena was one of those fat girls in high school that was so desperate to be friends with the popular girls that she would basically do anything they asked. She let Chloe run all over her. She would do all of the work I assigned her and then I'd catch her picking up Chloe's dry-cleaning, replying to Chloe's e-mails, even her Twitter messages. I talked to Selena about it one time and explained to her that she didn't have to do any of that shit for Chloe and she didn't make a big deal out of it or anything but she told me that she liked doing it. And then after we slept together I think she continued doing stuff for Chloe and waiting on Chloe hand and foot because she felt guilty. Why do you dislike her so much?"

"She wears too much makeup. She dresses like she's the secretary for the Mike's Booby Trap and she's really nosey. Like, really nosey."

"Yeah, but she's not so bad if you get to know her. And she's definitely not a killer."

"I don't think you are either but — here we are — discussing dead bodies that seem to keep pointing back to you."

"Touché. Brodie, be honest with yourself and me for just a second. Are you here because you're just doing your job or are you here because you really don't want me to be guilty?"

"I don't want you to be guilty. I'd never want to know that you killed two innocent girls to play a sick game with me. "

"And why would I? Play a game with you, I mean? We haven't talked to each other in almost ten years. Why would I suddenly start killing off pretty girls to get your attention? Not trying to toot my own horn but I've got better moves than that, sweetheart. If I had wanted your attention, I promise you, I would have gotten it."

I gulped down the rest of my whiskey. My lips were warm from the buzz of the alcohol and the edges of my brain were starting to blur. He did have a really good point. Why would he wait almost ten years to do something like this?

"I have no idea, Gunner. I'm at a loss here. There isn't much evidence in either case and what little evidence we have so far keeps pointing back to you. If you have any ideas, then by all means, let's hear them. And just what makes you think that you could get my attention so easily?"

"It may have been a while since I've seen you, honey, but you aren't like other people. You have been set in your ways since the day I met you. If there is any word to describe you, it would be predictable. I know you, Brodie. I know what gets your attention. I always have. And I know one of those things is me." He leaned in close to my face and I could smell the sweet bourbon smell on his breath. My heart was beating in my throat and my brain was screaming at my lungs to breath. I could feel the heat radiating from his large chest and I leaned back a little. Gunner must have noticed because he grinned that same Cheshire grin and leaned away from me.

"I don't remember you being such an over-confident bastard?"

Gunner laughed as he wrapped and arm around my waist and pulled me into his lap. I was so shocked by the action that I couldn't think straight. Inside my head I was yelling at myself to get up but part of me wanted to stay and see what happened. There would always be a part of me that was connected to Gunner. He had been my first love. He had almost been my first lover. It didn't happen behind the bamboo but it had eventually happened. He knew the intimate parts of me before anyone else ever did. Gunner would always be special to me and I desperately wanted him to be innocent. I could not even begin to imagine what life would be like if he confessed to these murders.

"That's because I wasn't always like this. Of course, I don't remember you being such a high-strung bitch either."

"Touché. Tell me you didn't kill those girls."

Instead of saying a word, he cupped my chin in one hand, with the other still on my waist, and kissed me. I was asking him to tell me that he didn't murder two girls, one of those being his fiancée, and he kissed me. The really sad part was that the kiss was really good and I didn't know whether to be disgusted or turned on. I was leaning towards the disgusted part all things considered.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What I've been thinking about doing since you walked into my office the other day. You are burned into my brain, Brodie Barrett. No, damnit, I didn't kill those girls but I'm not sorry that it brought you into my office. I forgot how much I've missed seeing your beautiful face and hearing your fucked up, sarcastic sense of humor. I just needed to kiss you and get it over with."

"If you didn't kill these girls, Gunner, then who the hell did? Who would frame you for murder?"

"I have no idea."

"It has to be someone who knows both of us. Who knows our history?"

"So, someone we were friends with in high school?"

"Did you talk about me to someone in college?"

"Maybe to one of my college girlfriends, but other than that, no."

"It has to be someone from high school."

"What about Peppenheller? She was always obsessed with you. And was always trying to break us up even though she was under the bleachers every Friday during fourth period sucking off Walker."

"She doesn't even live in Birmingham anymore. She lives somewhere in Tokyo with her Navy wife."

"Bullshit."

"Swear. She came home for Megan Shaehan's wedding three years ago and while she was there she introduced me to her then girlfriend. And then invited me back to their hotel for a threesome."

"What? Did you go?"

"Fuck you. No. What about Duke D'Angelo? He was always kind of weird. You remember that time he sewed the pig legs on that frog in science class?"

"Don't remind me. I think I threw up everything I had ever eaten that day. But how would he know anything about us? We never talked to him. What about Mark Handley? He and I were pretty tight back in the day. I told him just about everything. And he had a huge crush on you."

"He did not. Mark was just a nice guy."

"Trust me; he had a crush on you. I heard from someone a while back that he'd had a nervous breakdown when his wife divorced him and that he'd spent some time in Georgia at some mental health place. You think something like this could stem from that?"

"Doubtful. I mean, why us if he's upset about his wife leaving him?"

"Shit. I don't know. I'm just trying to come up with ideas. Oh. Oh, hell. What about that freak ass janitor? What was his name? You remember? The guy that caught us in the boy's locker room by the gym? And he was all 'oh, don't mind me. Just go back to what you were doing?' Even though we were clearly doing something we weren't supposed to be doing since I was neck-deep in your —"

"If you say it, I will shoot your ass right here on your expensive couch. I will shoot you in the face."

He winked at me again. One more wink and I was gouging his eyes out.

"But seriously, what about that guy?"

"It's possible. Seems so far-fetched, though. I mean, for someone to take this long to do something like this? And wouldn't he be old by now? Isn't there an age limit on serial killers or something?"

"What if these aren't the first girls they've killed? What if they've been practicing and then when they felt like they got it right they decided to start sending you the clues?"

"CSI?"

"Criminal Minds. But it's entirely possible."

"It's the best theory we've come up with so far. But I still don't understand why they would choose you and me. You said yourself we haven't seen each other in almost ten years."

"Maybe we're Romeo and Juliet."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Hear me out. You got married to someone else. I had a string of terrible relationships. Numerous things kept coming our way and pulling us farther apart. However, as soon as we saw each other, there was a spark. A recognition of that feeling. That flame that burns for someone you cared about. That lust and hunger to have them again. But, they didn't want us together the first time. So, what better way to ensure that we will never be together again?"

"Convince me that you're a killer so that I lock you up?"

"Yeah."

"That's really fucked up."

"Agreed. And I could be totally wrong but I promise you, Brodie, I didn't kill those girls. Yes, Chloe drove me fucking nuts but I loved her more than anything. And it hurts like hell that she isn't here anymore."

"Shit. Why do I believe you?"

"Because you know when someone is lying and you know that I'm not lying."

"Maybe. Fine, I believe you. For now. But, in order to get your name cleared, you have to help me. I need to know where you are and who you are with at all times of the day until we get this thing solved. If you have any time unaccounted for and another body shows up, I will personally arrest you."

"Can we pretend like that all happened so that you use those cuffs on me?"

"Nice try. But I mean it."

"Fine, fine. I agree. We need to find out who the killer is thought before he kills again."

"If he hasn't already."

Letter From a Homicidal Maniac

I left Gunner's apartment that night feeling more confused than ever. I really did believe that Gunner didn't kill these girls but there no way to prove it. All of the evidence pointed to him. And he was still avoiding giving up some information, like where we was when Chloe was killed. He wouldn't give me an alibi which led me to believe that he either didn't really have one or he did have one and he was doing something that he didn't want anyone knowing about. Considering that he didn't want to explain about the fight with Chloe over his affair with Selena, I wouldn't be surprised if he had more secrets up his sleeve. But if he didn't kill these girls then who did? Who else would know things about mine and his relationship? Things that were special to us back then but would have been of no relevance to anyone else in the world? And why would they use that as an excuse to kill innocent young women? Who could be that sick?

The next morning I woke up and Keaton and Braelynn were already gone. Keaton was debuting a new fall menu at the restaurant and had to be there early to help teach the new chefs how to cook the dinner specials. I vaguely remember Braelynn coming in to kiss me goodbye this morning. I couldn't wait to be off this case so that I could get back to some kind of normalcy with her. This job was a twenty-four-seven deal when there was a case to be worked on. My relationship with Braelynn was starting to suffer because of it. After this case was over, I thought about taking some vacation time and looking for a new job, something that would allow me to be at home with her more. I didn't want to miss any more of my sweet little girl growing up.

In the kitchen was a fresh pot of coffee and a note from Keaton saying that he loved me and he hoped I had a good day at work. It was sitting on top of the mail from yesterday. Underneath the phone bill and the car insurance bill was a beautifully decorated black and cream envelope. The paper was a silky texture and it had black scroll-work snaking up the sides of the envelope. My name was situated in the middle written with what looked like a calligraphy pen. It was definitely one of the fanciest pieces of mail I'd ever received. I figured it had to be a wedding shower or lingerie invitation from Chelsea so I ripped it open and pulled out the letter inside only half-way paying attention to the fact that something had dropped to the floor. I turned the tri-folded paper over in my hands and opened it up. It was a letter from the killer. He had my home address. A letter from a homicidal maniac had been sitting on my kitchen counter waiting for me to open it all night long. My stomach felt like it was going to fall out of my butt. I hadn't felt personally threatened by this killer until now. He knew where I lived.

I picked up the paper in the floor, sat down at the kitchen table and began to read the letter.

Brodie,

I'm starting to get impatient. There are so many things left that I still want to do but I am getting impatient. I don't know how much more of my own game I can play. I need to see you. I need to be face to face with my Medusa. It's not that you're not beautiful. You're more than beautiful. There isn't even a word in the English language to describe your beauty. But looking at you, feeling your gaze on me, it turns me to stone. It makes my heart feel like concrete in my chest. I die a little inside each time you look at me because I know you're not looking at me like you look at Keaton. There is no fire in your eyes that runs down between your legs when you look at my face. That is saved only for him and it's truly not fair. I have loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you so many years ago. How you haven't figured it out by now, I do not understand. I have pined for you all of these years only to watch you fall in love with losers who didn't deserve you. They weren't the man you needed. Grayson couldn't even protect himself, how could he have protected you and Braelynn? And Keaton? He's a lying shit. A lying shit who still has a pregnant girlfriend. He didn't end things with her. Here he is in your house, wrapped up between your legs, burying himself deep inside of you, all while knowing that he's got a wee babe growing in some other girl's belly. He has his cake and gets to lick the icing too. And wouldn't it be even more amazing if this baby turns out to be a boy? I bet he doesn't even know that you can't have any more kids, does he? Or are you still lying to yourself about that one, too? I know everything about you, Brodie. I know all of your faults and they just make me love you even more. I don't care that you can't have any more kids. Braelynn is enough. She's growing up to be just like her mother, stubborn and strong. I just want to be the man in your life, Brodie.

I Will Always Love You

I dropped the letter on the table and picked up the piece of paper that had fallen out of the envelope. I turned it over and saw that it was a picture of Keaton and Kailee. It was outside Manhattan and she was leaned against the passenger side of his car. He had one hand on her hip and the other on her face. And he was kissing her. The date at the bottom of the picture was two days ago. He had been in the parking lot of Manhattan kissing his pregnant girlfriend two days ago. Two days ago he had come home to my house and cooked dinner for Braelynn and I. Two days ago we had gone outside and played basketball until Braelynn's bedtime and then shared a steamy shower. He had made love to me slowly, all night long. Two days ago. The already sickening feeling in my stomach was just getting worse. Keaton had told me that he'd handled the Kailee issue that I needn't worry about her again until it was time for her to deliver the baby. I believed him without giving it a second thought. The only time he would see her would be at work. When he wasn't at work he was at home with Braelynn and I. I never mentioned Keaton firing her because I felt like that would be unfair to her. It wasn't her fault that we decided to get back together. Being with her possible child's father was punishment to her enough. But I had believed him. And he lied.

The picture fell out of my hand and dropped to the table. I sat there staring into space, twirling the large diamond on my ring finger around and around. I could taste bile in my throat and I felt like my heart was going to explode out of my chest at any minute. I had finally let go of my issues with trust and let Keaton fully into my life and was preparing to become his wife and he had lied to me. He was still seeing this girl. This girl that may or may not be pregnant with his child. And who the hell knew that I couldn't have any more kids? I hadn't told anyone that little bit of information. No one knew that. This sick bastard knew way too much about my life and I was quickly getting tired of the guessing games. But, now I knew for sure that Gunner was not the killer. If he had been, he would have thought that I'd already read the letter and he would have let on to something that the letter said. And he damn sure would have tried to do more than kiss me. I felt like a piece of shit because I had let some other man kiss me and here Keaton was sneaking around with his pregnant girlfriend. I had had enough. I was at my snapping point with him, with work, with Gunner, with this sick bastard going around killing innocent women in the name of his love for me. I was done and I was going to make sure that everyone knew it.

I was parking my truck in the parking lot of Manhattan before I even realized what I was doing. I had driven to the restaurant on auto-pilot. The only other cars in the parking lot belonged to Manhattan employees because the restaurant did not open until lunch time. If Keaton walked past the window at any minute, he'd see me sitting outside in my truck. I was trying to decide if I wanted to go in and confront him or just drive off. Before I could make that decision for myself, my cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"It's Walker. Gunner is in my office. He told me that you came to see him last night and that you believe that he didn't do it. I want to believe him, too, Brodie, but I'm having a really hard time. He won't give me an alibi for the time of Chloe's death and I'm his fucking lawyer. Is there any way you could come down here and try to talk to him with me? He seems to trust you."

"Yeah. Give me ten minutes. Stopping to get coffee, you want some?"

"No, thanks. Chelsea bought me a cappuccino machine for the office last week."

"Well, well. Walker Sawyer's moving on up in this world. Drinking fancy shit coffee with foam. Don't tell him I'm coming."

I hung up the phone and pulled out of the parking lot. At this point I didn't care if Keaton saw me. If he asked, I would just tell him that I was stopping by to see him before I went to work but got a call to come in. That technically wasn't a lie. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say to him. I was still hoping that I'd dreamed the whole thing but when I looked down at my cup-holder, the picture from the envelope was staring back at me, basking in all of its ugly glory. The letter was at home in my office. I knew I needed to tell Captain Stephens and Beau about the letter but I just wasn't ready yet. I was still trying to process everything it had said. Someone had been stalking me, even going as far as snooping into my medical records because I had mentioned to no one that I couldn't have any more children. That was a fact that I was still in denial about.

Walker's office was located on the corner of 4th Avenue & 23rd Street. While his office only had one fancy large wooden door instead of two, it was still an impressive space. The lobby had cherry oak hardwood floors, a cherry oak information desk complete with a secretary who probably moonlighted as a model, and a sitting area outfitted with plush black suede couches and a glass coffee table stacked with the latest fashion, entertainment, and news magazines. His actual office housed a gorgeous hand-carved cherry oak desk with a matching maroon leather chair complete with hand-carved armrests, two maroon leather visitor chairs that also had hand-carved armrests, a cherry console with a large flat screen TV, a black suede couch identical to the ones in the lobby, and a small silver corner bar. When I walked in his office, he and Gunner were taking turns using his putter and practice green. Boys will always be boys.

"Brodie! What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Gunner. Nice to see you in such a good mood, all things considered. Walker gave me a call. He thought it might help you if we all sat down together and tried to piece the evidence of this case together."

"I see. Well, let's get to it then."

Gunner handed Walker the putter and slumped down on the couch, picking up a short crystal glass of brown liquid and swirling it around in his hand. Whiskey was my best guess. Leave it to Walker to decide that alcohol would be the answer to pulling information out of him. From his jolly greeting and lazy grin, I was guessing the drink in his hand wasn't the first of the day. I turned one of the visitor chairs around to face the couch and sat down across from him, pulling my pad and pen out of my blazer pocket. Walker grabbed a pad and pen from his desk and sat down on the couch next to Gunner. He never took his eyes off of the glass in his hand. I could tell that he was thinking but I couldn't read his mind. Or his face. I wasn't sure if he was just ready to get this over with or if he was panicking inside, scrambling to come up with an alibi that would satisfy us.

"Okay, let's not beat around the bush. Gunner, you have got to give Brodie your alibi. Not being honest about where you were when Chloe was killed makes it look like you did it or had something to do with it and since you and Brodie are so convinced that someone else did it, you need to convince me. I can't represent you in court if I think you're guilty. And if you don't give up an alibi sometime soon, court is where we are going because if this investigation doesn't get another lead to someone else, they're going to file charges against you and then you're going to be up shit creek with a hole in your boat."

Gunner snickered and gulped down the liquid in his glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the glass down on the black glass coffee table sitting between us. When he looked up at me, his eyelids dropped a little. He gave me a sideways smirk like we shared some kind of secret that Walker didn't know about it. I supposed we did since no one knew about the kiss last night but I was willing to forget all about it. I did not need anything else complicating my life.

"Saying I wasn't in town isn't good enough?"

"No. If you weren't in town, I need to know where you were. I also need some kind of receipt, picture, anything with a time stamp and a location on it to prove that you were where you say you were. Gunner, I believe you and I want to help you get out of this. I don't want to see you go to jail for something you didn't do but you've got to help yourself. Whatever it is, no matter how embarrassing or shameful it is, you need to tell us. And if it is something that no one else really needs to know about, Walker and I can figure out a way to validate your alibi while keeping it a secret. You have to trust us."

"I trust you, Brodie. I don't know about Walker. He's got a big mouth. You should hear the secrets he spills about people around the poker table. Hell, I've even heard a few of your secrets waiting on my cards to be dealt."

I pretend like what he had just said didn't even faze me. The fact that Walker would spill any of my secrets to his poker buddies didn't really surprise me. As long as I had known Walker he'd never been good at keeping a secret. If he knew something that other people didn't he would squirm and be an overall annoying ass until you either begged him obligingly so that he felt like you forced him into to telling you or you played ridiculous charades with him until you guessed it. Walker had let the cat out of the bag about our gym teacher being pregnant by the captain of the football team by walking around his bedroom with his football jersey on and a basketball shoved up under it all while doing callisthenic exercises that our teacher loved to torture us with. He was not the person that you told things to if you didn't want them getting out to someone else.

"I'm not surprised. My secrets aren't really all that secret nor are they relevant to your current situation. Walker is not going to tell anyone what you tell us unless it is legally necessary. Now, start talking or I'm walking out of here. I'm not going to let you waste anymore of my time while there is still a real killer on the loose."

Gunner huffed loudly as he situated himself on the couch. He went back to looking down at the floor instead of looking at me or Walker. I was getting really tired of the coy shit and just wanted to hear what his excuse was. I still had more work to do to catch this asshole before he murdered someone else. I wanted to catch him before I got another note at my house. While I was waiting on Gunner to finally open his mouth, I happened to notice the knuckles on Walker's right hand were red and scabbed over as if he'd been in a fight. He had a few scratches on his neck that could have been from being in the woods, walking through thick brush; it was hunting season after all. Other than that, Walker was blemish free. He didn't look like he'd been in a fight. I'd have to ask him about it later.

"Shit. I was in Atlanta. With a friend."

"I'm going to need more than that. I've already explained that to you."

"I'm getting to it. I was in Atlanta with a guy friend. We went to a strip club."

"What's his name? What strip club? How long were you there? Is that the only place you went? What time did you leave Birmingham?"

"Fuck. Do we really have to do this? Can I just give you a blacked out credit card statement showing the time and place?"

"No."

"We went to Sailor Sam's."

"The gay bar?"

"Yeah."

"With who?"

"Stevie Schaeffer. We left here around twelve and did some shopping at the mall once we got into town. We had dinner at Constantine's, drinks at Kennigan's Pub, and then to Sailor Sam's. We stayed at the PeachTree that night. Drove home the next morning after having breakfast at the Waffle House."

"Stevie Schaeffer as in Judge Schaeffer's son?"

"Yes." Gunner continued to look at the floor. Walker's chin was hanging down to his chest and he was staring wide-eyed at Gunner. I wanted to laugh but knew I couldn't. If I started laughing now, Gunner wouldn't trust me to explain his story.

"Why did you go to with Stevie Schaeffer to Atlanta?"

"Do I really need to explain?"

"Are you gay? You kissed me last night!"

"He kissed you last night? You kissed her last night? What the hell is going on? Aren't you engaged? Didn't your fiancée just die? What the fuck kind of twilight shit have y'all gotten me into?"

"You're engaged?"

"How did you miss this giant ring on my finger?"

"If you haven't noticed, rings don't really mean much to me."

"You kissed him?"

"I'm going to eat all ten of the bullets in my gun if you two don't shut up. Finish your story, Gunner."

Gunner shifted around on the couch before getting up and walking over to the bar to pour himself another drink. The ice clinking in the glass echoed through the office. I pulled my blazer off and got comfortable in the chair. I had a feeling that I was going to be here for a while hearing this story. I sent a quick text to Beau explaining where I was and what I was doing. Walker finally closed his mouth but was now staring at me with eyes so wide he resembled a scared Chihuahua.

"For Chloe's twenty-first birthday she wanted a threesome. With Stevie. She and Stevie were in the same psychology class. She had a huge crush on him and really wanted to sleep with him but he was more interested in me. Chloe begged me and begged me and begged me to do this with her. I was really freaked out about it at first but we met with Stevie one night and agreed on some ground rules. I felt okay about it afterward so I agreed to it. And then Chloe wanted to do it again. And again. It eventually got to the point that Stevie was in our bed more than he was out of our bed. At least when Chloe was at home. Anyway, last week was the first time Stevie and I have gone off by ourselves. I was having some weird feelings and I wasn't sure if it was just because of the strange situation with Stevie, Chloe, and I or if I was really having feelings for Stevie. I needed to get away from Chloe and the wedding planning and all of the other bullshit and just figure the shit out. It was Stevie's idea to go out of town."

"So, how'd that work out?"

"I'm definitely not gay, if that's what you're asking."

Walker nearly choked on his drink. I bit back a giggle and waited for Gunner to finish his story. I was still in shock about the threesome with Stevie and Chloe to process the fact that he thought he might have been having feelings for another man. Not than someone being gay bothered me. I could have cared less but it just seemed like such a strange, strange turn of events to find out that Gunner didn't kill his fiancée because he was off with the bedfellow that he shared with his fiancée trying to figure out if he had feelings for him or not. It was just too much to process all at once.

"So, what kind of receipts do you need in order to clear my name?"

"The hotel receipt and any receipt from your shopping trip will work. That will show a time line and that you were still in Atlanta the next morning when we think Chloe was dumped. Also, if you know of anyone else that could back up your story without us having to talk to Stevie, we should be able to leave him out of the police report."

"Um, I can't think of anyone right off the top of my head but I will think about it. I didn't really want anyone knowing that I was going on a trip with Stevie by myself. I didn't want it getting back to Chloe. She would have been heartbroken. Chloe was marrying me for the money. I think she really had feelings for Stevie. The really shitty part is that he kept stringing her along making her think that she would eventually have a chance of something with him only to keep himself close to me. He confessed that to me while we were on our trip. He's a bastard. I know that Chloe and I had our issues and had a very unorthodox relationship but I would have never done anything like this just to hurt her feelings. I really did - still do- love Chloe. I wouldn't have wanted to purposely hurt her. He's a jerk. We got back here around eleven on Wednesday morning and I told him that I didn't want to see him anymore. He got really pissed off and threatened to tell Chloe about our trip. When I didn't hear from her, I figured he'd told her and she was mad at me and giving me the silent treatment once again. I'm such an asshole that I thought she was just pouting and trying to teach me a lesson that I didn't even think to check on her. My poor Chloe was dead, laying out in public for someone to just walk by and find her, and I didn't even know. I was in my office, working like usual, thinking that she'd come home in a few days."

Gunner stopped talking. Before he looked up at me I already knew he was crying by the cracking sound in his voice. My heart was breaking around the edges seeing him show some emotion about what had happened to Chloe. I think it had finally hit him that she was gone and would never be coming back. Chloe was dead and there was nothing he could do about it.

After Gunner's interview Walker and I decided to get some lunch. He suggested Manhattan because he loved Keaton's alligator and sausage gumbo. I wasn't sure if I really felt like seeing Keaton but I didn't want to give away that something was bothering me. We both drove our own vehicles in case I got called into work. The parking lot was packed full of cars and I could see people waiting at the door for a table. Of course, Walker wanted me to use my status as Keaton's girlfriend to get a table ahead of everyone else but I said no. We could stand outside in the line just like everyone else. After about fifteen minutes we were finally seated in the last booth in the right hand corner of the restaurant. We were sitting right next to the bar where Kailee would be working. I hated my life right now.

Walker ordered the gumbo and a plate of fried green tomatoes. I ordered a steak and a baked potato. If I was going to have to sit and look at this gigantic jugged ex-girlfriend baby mama current mistress whatever she was of Keaton's, I felt like I deserved all the red meat and starchy food I wanted. And of course, an ice cold beer. Walker tried to talk me into ordering a whiskey sour and getting smashed at lunch but I knew if I did I'd whiskey tango myself across that bar to whoop her ass. And then Keaton's. I kept trying to tell myself that there was a simple explanation. The picture could have been photoshopped for all I knew. With everything that had happened it the last two weeks, I wasn't sure what was real and what was fake anymore. All I knew was that I was so damn tired of playing mind games with people.

"What did you do to your hand?"

"Hmm? Oh, this? It's not as bad as it looks. I sparred with a guy at the gym the other day and the wrap on my hand came loose."

"Looks like you hit him pretty hard to be sparring."

"Like I said, it's not as bad as it looks. So, Gunner kissed you?"

"Can we please not even talk about that?"

"Because he had a boyfriend and it makes you sick to think about it? Because let me tell you, I thought I was going to throw up. I mean, I used to sleep next to that dude in football camp."

"I know. He used to call me and tell me about how great your ass looked in the showers with the hot soapy water running down your crack."

"You're a disgusting, vile human being. You know that? I mean, really disgusting. I don't even know why I'm friends with you."

"Easy." I said as I reached over and snatched a fried green tomato from his plate. "We are one and the same. The only difference is I don't have a dick and you d — well, there's no difference actually."

"I hate you."

"No. You don't. And let me just go ahead and tell you what happened because I know if I don't you're going to bug the hell out of me until I tell you. I was going through some old photo albums at home trying to figure out how the Alabama Theater related to me when I found a picture from a school field trip where we went to the Alabama. I remembered riding that damn Wurlitzer with Gunner because you were too stuck up Pennheller's ass to ride it with me and I was scared. Gunner held my hand on the Wurlitzer but only when we were under the stage where no one could see us. So, either Gunner was really the killer and he was doing this fucked up shit to get back at me for marrying Gray or someone else knew more about he and I than we thought they did and was using me and him as an opportunity to kill innocent girls and pin it on him."

"Innocent girls?"

"Yeah."

"Did you not hear any of the shit that Gunner told you about Chloe? Chelsea told me some stuff about that girl, too. I'm surprised she didn't bring home Gunner a whole collector's set of STD's. And that Janelle girl was advertising for sex on Craigslist in order to pay for head shots so that she could become a model. And she had done porn."

"Okay, first of all, asshole, what a woman decides to do with her twat is none of your damn business. You have put that little dick of yours in just about everything that walks, shits, and breathes in this town so you're just as much of a slut as Chloe was. And you DID get an STD one time. Remember that time we went to Panama City and you slept with that big-lipped Dorito tanned girl that called herself Coco Loco? Does it still burn when you piss? Second of all, if Janelle wanted to do gang-banging midget porn until she was eighty doesn't mean she wasn't an innocent girl who damn sure did not deserve the beating she got. These girls didn't hurt anyone with what they were doing. Yeah, okay, it's probably not what society wants to see young women doing but it's their fucking bodies. They can do what the hell they want to. You don't get to pass judgment on them just because you have a dick. Fuck you."

"I don't even know what to say to you right now. You promised me that you wouldn't ever bring up Panama City. And I'm sorry! You're right. I shouldn't have opened my mouth. I just meant from the standpoint of a friend of Gunner, Chloe was not the angel that her mother and some of her other friends thought she was."

"Apology accepted. And I promised to never bring up the second trip to Panama City. Coco happened on the first so its fair game."

"Touché. Why are you so pissy anyway?"

"Seriously? Have you not been paying attention to what is going on in my life right now? Some psycho is going around killing girls and leaving me love notes to go hunt down their bodies. I got a letter at my house yesterday. Well, I didn't read it until this morning but still. Back to Gunner. I thought if I went to his apartment and approached the situation as an old friend instead of the cop who is trying to put him in jail that he might open up to me and either give me an alibi or confess. We were on his couch talking and he was kind of flirting with me and making references to when we were teenagers and then the next thing I know, he grabbed me, slid me into his lap, and kissed me."

"You kiss him back?"

"You're such a girl! No, I didn't. I mean, I wasn't rude, ya know? But I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. It was all kind of wrong and awkward so I left shortly after that and just told him I'd talk to him more today. I wasn't planning on bringing it up but the shock of the Stevie story just kind of made me blurt it out."

"No kidding. You ever had a threesome?"

Before I could answer Walker's ridiculous question I heard someone clear their throat and looked up to find Keaton standing at the table. He looked handsome as he always did. I wanted him to sit down next to me and throw his arms around me and bury his face in my neck and hair. I just wanted him to touch me and let me know that everything was going to be okay but he didn't even know anything was wrong. Did I confront him about it or did I just let it go and hope that maybe it was just a moment of weakness and he'd gotten it out of his system?

"Hey, baby. I would have stuck my head in the back to let you know that I was here but you guys were really busy when we got here. The new menu looks amazing!"

"Thanks, babe," Keaton said as he slid into the booth next to me. He reached out and shook Walker's hand. Walker immediately wiped his hands on his napkin and then gulped down the last of his whiskey. I noticed it. Keaton didn't. Keaton threaded his arm through mine and placed his hand on the inside of my thigh. My brain started buzzing as soon as he touched me. "So, you guys were discussing a threesome. Should I back away from the conversation I butted into or do I need to stay?"

"Oh my, gosh, Key, we're not discussing us having a threesome. It's a complicated work thing with a client of Walker's. And Nosey Nancy over there just asked me if I'd ever had a threesome. He wasn't asking to have a threesome. Don't be gross."

"Why are threesomes gross?"

Walker laughed and high-fived Keaton. I blushed.

"I didn't say threesomes were gross. Just a threesome with Walker would be gross."

"Hey! I'm not gross, damnit."

"No, but you're my best friend. That's weird."

"You know I read somewhere that if you're going to have a threesome it is actually better and more successful if you have it with someone that you are close to and trust. So, I'm a perfect candidate."

"He has a point, Brodie. As a matter of fact, I think I read that same article."

"I read an article once where it said that a man's IQ is equal to his dick size. Must be why both of you are so stupid."

"Hey, hey, that's below the belt."

We all laughed at Keaton's pun causing Kailee to look over at us from the bar counter. She was drying glasses as she watched Keaton's face. He either didn't have that same sense that I do when someone was staring or he was purposely ignoring her. Either way it still irked me. Here she was ogling Keaton while he had his hand on my thigh and all I could think about was that damn picture. I was trying so hard to push it out of my mind and not think about it but the longer I sat there the harder it got. I knew that confronting him at work was not a good idea. Especially with her standing right there. He finally noticed her staring and just gave her a kind of a quick nod and a wave. No smile. No emotion. I couldn't even tell what that meant between the two of them. She eventually slammed down the last glass and walked away, shooting me a look that could have melted me into the booth. I couldn't help myself any longer.

"She seems upset. Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah. And she is upset. Things didn't go as smoothly as I'd hoped. She pretty much blackmailed me into keeping her job. I wasn't going to fire her per say but I did suggest that maybe she find employment elsewhere so that things wouldn't be weird or complicated. I was informed that she'd sue me for discrimination since everyone knows she's pregnant. Which is another thing she's started using to hurl threats at me. I can't wait until this kid gets here so we can get a paternity test. The more I think about things them more I'm pretty sure that I'm not the father."

"One can only hope, right, Brodie?"

"I choose not comment on this. Keaton already knows that I will support him whatever happens. Did you offer her a severance package or anything?"

"Yes, she wanted ten grand cash or nothing. I'm not giving her a damn dime. She's being ridiculous. Our relationship was shit before Brodie and I decided to work things out. I don't know why she thinks things were so great and I just all of sudden wanted out? I've been trying to get her out of my apartment for months."

"Is she still there?"

"Yeah. I paid some movers to pack up my shit the day after you told me I could move back home. Anything I haven't brought to the house is in storage. I had the building manager write up a lease in her name and I signed it over to her. It's hers now. If she doesn't pay for it, it's her ass out on the street. She's just being a fucking bitch."

"I'm sorry you're having to go through this."

"Don't be. It will be worth it in the end. Once this baby is here and we know it's not mine, I can fire her for whatever I want to. Until then, I plan on making her time her so unbearable that she'll just quit. Now, back to this threesome, can I substitute Walker for a blonde with porn star lips and tramp stamp?"

"Just get Walker to grow his hair out and there you go."

"You two are hilarious. But seriously, have either of you ever had a threesome? Chelsea has brought it up to me before and the conversation gets really weird really quick."

"The conversation or you?"

"Me, probably. I mean, Chelsea doesn't even talk dirty in bed and then all of a sudden she's like hey, would you ever want to have a threesome? It makes no sense. It's got to be a trap."

"A trap?"

"Yeah, a trap. You know how girls are. They ask you shit and then you tell them the truth and they lose their freaking minds. I just know if I say hell yes, I want to have a threesome her head will spin around faster than a weather vane in a hurricane. I'm not going there. I just told her if it was something she really wanted and she had someone in mind, I'd think about it. No dudes, though. No dudes."

"Damn, Walker. I was getting my hopes up that I'd get to see you naked."

"No wonder you two get along so well, Brodie. He's a fucking comedian, too."

Walker and I finished lunch and Keaton walked me out to my truck. Walker stood around and talked with us for a minute before leaving to go see Chelsea. They were supposed to be picking out the tuxes for his groomsmen. He looked so excited. Keaton walked me around to the driver side of my car. There was a brick wall across from my door, blocking this side of my truck from anyone in the parking lot. Keaton slammed me up against my truck door and kissed me hard while he shoved a hand down my panties.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry," he breathed in my ear. "I got a little excited talking about threesomes."

"With Walker, though. Ew. Men are so fucking gross."

Keaton laughed with his head buried in the crook of my neck. He pulled his hand out of my panties and slid both of his hands around to my ass. He squeezed my ass pulling me closer to him. I kissed and nibbled his neck pushing my hips against him when I heard him moaning.

"Let's go home and embarrass Roscoe."

"Can't. We both have work to do."

"Let's blow it off. Hell, we don't even have to go home. Your truck has a backseat. I want to ruin that new car smell."

"What has gotten into you?"

"You. I can't stop thinking about your beautiful body underneath mine."

"Well, as fun as that sounds, we are not having sex in my truck. People will see us."

"So?" He grinned at me like a fox that had just devoured everything in the hen house. The dimples in his cheeks always made me feel like someone had started a fire low in my belly. I could feel the heat between my legs thinking about looking down at those dimples as he disappeared between my legs. And then I thought about the damn picture.

"We need to talk."

"Uh oh. That doesn't sound good." Keaton let me go and backed away from me. He leaned against the brick wall with his hands clasped in front of him.

"I got another letter from the killer in the mail yesterday."

"What? I checked the mail yesterday. I didn't see anything."

"That black and white envelope that was decorated really pretty? Looked like a wedding invitation? It was a letter from him."

"I thought it was a wedding invitation! What did it say?"

"He talked about how much he loved me and wanted to be with me and then talked about Gray and you and he knew something about me that I've never told anyone else. No one. But there was also a picture in the envelope. A picture of you." I turned around, opened the door of my truck, and grabbed the picture out of the cup holder. I handed it to Keaton and waited for him to say something.

"Brodie, I — I don't understand. Why would someone be taking pictures of me and Kailee?"

"So that is you and Kailee? That's not photoshopped? I mean the time and date is right too? Because that is two days ago. Two fucking days ago."

"It's us. And I think it's the right date but it's not what you think. I didn't kiss her. She kissed me."

"Keaton —"

"Don't you dare start accusing me of anything or start trying to sabotage this without hearing what I have to say, damnit. I walked her out to the car because she was saying that she didn't feel good and that she wanted to get some air. When we walked out here she started crying and telling me that she missed me and that she didn't understand why I didn't want to be with her since she was about to be the mother of my child and was saying some really awful things about you. And I defended you and told her that it didn't matter what she said that I loved you and I didn't want to be with anyone else but you for the rest of my life and that she was going to have to learn how to deal with it. Then she kept crying. I reached up to wipe tears from her face and that is when she leaned in and kissed me. My hands in this picture are me pushing her off of me. You don't have to believe me, but Brodie, have I ever lied to you?"

"No."

"Well, that ought to tell you something. I mean whoever this guy is, he clearly wants you to leave me. That's his end game. He wants you all by yourself so that he can have you. He thinks if he gets you all alone, away from everyone in your life, that he can have you. Of course he is going to tell you things and send you things to make you think that I'm no good for you. Brodie, I love you, damnit. I just got you back. There is no way in hell I'm going to fuck this up now. I guess I should have told you as soon as it happened but it didn't mean anything to me and I know she's just being a desperate bitch and I know you've been under a lot of stress lately so I just didn't want to bother you. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Okay."

"Do you believe me? You're only giving me one word responses?"

"Yes, I believe you. I just feel stupid for even bringing it up after hearing what you said. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, baby. If something is bother you, no matter what it is, you have to tell me so that you and I can work it out. We're a team. We are in this together. That's the only way this is going to work. We can't be like we were last time and just think that the other is reading the other one's mind. It doesn't work like that. You have to communicate."

"Well, since we're communicating, I need to tell you something else."

"Okay, shoot."

"I can't have any more kids."

"Why?"

"You remember when I told you about that crack head stabbing me during one of my first arrests as a beat cop?"

"Yeah?"

"Apparently the guy had such good aim that he managed to get me right in the uterus. Who stabs people in the uterus? Anyway, I've known for a while but I didn't tell anyone because I was holding out in hope that I could have more kids but it's honestly probably not going to happen."

"Okay."

"Okay? You're not upset?"

"Does it bum me out a little? Yeah. But we already have a beautiful little girl. No, she's not biologically mine but she's still mine all the same. She's my baby girl. And honestly, Brodie, we don't need a kid right now anyway. We just got back together. We aren't even married yet. And with the way you work, there's no way you could have a baby. Did you think I would be mad?"

"I thought it might change the way you felt."

"Why?"

"Because I can't give you any kids, Key. That's one of the primary responsibilities of a wife, to give her husband kids, and I can't do that. I can't give you a son."

"That's okay. I don't need one." Keaton wrapped his arms back around me. He pulled me close to him and kissed me on the forehead. "I just need you and Braelynn. That's all I need. I need you to plan a gorgeous wedding and have our gorgeous daughter as a flower girl and you to walk down the aisle to me wearing a gorgeous dress. And then I need you to say I do and live with me forever and ever and ever for better and for worse, in sickness and in health. Even when I'm old and pooping myself." He kissed my forehead and then leaned back so that he could look into my eyes.

"Being in a relationship with you is like eating ice cream with a fork- frustrating and stupid and challenging. And there's always going to be a little left behind... but it's still ice cream, and it will always be worth it."

I laughed and laid my head on his chest. I could have stayed there like that all day long. I loved being in his arms. Keaton always made me feel so safe. Nothing in the world could get me while I was in his arms. He was my safety blanket. I could feel him running his hands through my hair. He leaned down and kissed me again but this time it was soft and sweet. His lips were so soft against mine and I'd never felt more in love that in that moment. Keaton truly did love me for who I was and for who I wasn't. He had accepted all of my faults and flaws and looked past them. He never tried to change who I was. I was so worried that he would leave me once he found out that I couldn't have kids. I still didn't know who else would know that secret but I felt so much better getting it off of my chest. If Keaton knew now going into this marriage, then he couldn't be mad at me later. Keaton being so accepting of this news is probably not what the killer was planning on. In fact, I was pretty sure that his plan had just back fired but I was more than okay with that. I was incredibly happy.

"I love you so much, Keaton."

"I love you, too, sugar."

Keaton walked back to work and I got in my truck and pulled out of the parking lot. I didn't really have to be in the office but I didn't really want to go home. I figured if I went in to the office and went over the case files again I might catch something we hadn't before. There had to be something in the case files and the evidence to point to who our real killer was. He couldn't be that smart. Once I got to the office I poured myself a cup of coffee, grabbed the files and a notepad, and plopped myself on the couch in the break room. I sipped my coffee while I read over the witness reports from the botanical gardens. No one had seen anyone suspicious the night before or the morning of the find. No one had seen Chloe since Tuesday night. Her phone wasn't on her when she was found. Her car wasn't in the parking lot. Gunner had told us that she had her phone with her when she left his office that day because she had sent him a text telling him that she was going shopping with Chelsea. No one had questioned Chelsea yet and she was the last known person to see Chloe alive. I made a note to interview her.

Janelle's file was even more disappointing. Her roommate had seen her that afternoon. She left on her bike headed to class. No one in her class could remember her being there but said that she kept to herself so they couldn't say for sure whether she really wasn't there or they just hadn't noticed her. Her phone had been on her when she left. Her bicycle was chained outside the building that housed her classroom. No one saw anyone suspicious the night before or the morning of her dump either. I kept going back and forth between Janelle's file and Chloe's file in hopes that there would be more similarities other than their missing cell phones. They were the same age. Chloe didn't work. Janelle worked at a nursing home. Chloe had a brand new fancy car. Janelle rode a bicycle. Chloe was in her running gear and brand new running shoes when she died. Janelle was dressed like she was going out to the club. At that I made another note to ask Chelsea about Janelle because she seemed to know who she was too, according to Walker. He had mentioned earlier that Janelle had done porn and was working as a prostitute. How else would he know that? And as much as it cost to go to college these days, I wouldn't be surprised if that were true.

There had to be something that linked the two of them together. Everything this killer did and said was all linked together in some kind of way. There was no way that this guy just picked two girls at random and killed them. They had to be connected somehow and they had to be accessible to him. Chloe had a string of men that chased her. If Janelle was working as a prostitute, then she probably had a slew of men chasing after her, too. Could one of the guys that chased Chloe have been a customer of Janelle's? That was certainly possible. But he had to be connected to me, too. Chloe was a sorority girl with lots of friends. Janelle kept to herself. I made another note to check them out online. Apparently no one else had thought about doing that either. Young girls these days were always posting way too much information about themselves online. Janelle was posting ads on Craigslist. If we could get into her email we could see who she has been in contact with.

Supermarket Secrets

I gave our computer forensics guy, Murray, a call and asked if they had any luck tracking the movements of either of the girls online. He told me that they were chasing down a few IP addresses from some of the guys who had corresponded with Janelle but that they weren't looking very promising. After spending a few hours on the couch in the break room, I decided to go home. It would be nice to be home before Braelynn for a change. I thought about cooking dinner as well. Keaton had been working so hard on this new menu for the restaurant that I was sure he would be relieved to not have to cook when he got home too. Braelynn loved my lasagna so I decided to make a quick stop by the grocery store on the way home. I hated going to the grocery store because I usually ran into someone I knew who wanted to stand around and chit-chat with me about things I could have honestly cared less about. I had never been good with small talk and it seemed like the older I got, the worse I got. I never knew what to say to people to get them to shut up without being rude. I only needed a few things from the store so I figured if I kept my head down and didn't make eye contact with anyone I could be in and out of the store in less than twenty minutes. I was halfway to the checkout line when someone hit me with their buggy.

"Son of a bitch!" I mumbled in case my grandmother, her old biddy friends, or their preacher happened to be in earshot. I turned around to see who had hit me and came face to face with the one person I would consider my worst enemy. Audrey Sawyer.

"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry, Brodie. I was coming around this corner here and I didn't see you."

"It's okay, Audrey. Unlike you I don't have to worry about breaking a hip anytime soon."

"Brodie Barrett, would it kill you to have some damn manners?" She whispered through gritted teeth. Audrey Sawyer would never let anyone in public hear her utter a cuss word. Of course, I'd never heard her say a cuss word unless it was hurled in my direction.

"You know what, Audrey? You're right. Please forgive me for being so rude," I smiled at her.

For once I think I had rendered Audrey speechless. She was staring at me with her mouth halfway open as if she was going to say something but couldn't find the right words. This woman, who was the president of the local chapter of the Junior League, made her name by her gift of gab. I don't think I'd ever heard anyone talk as much as she did so to see her standing in front of me without a thing to say was comical to say the least.

"Actually, Audrey, come to think of it, I believe I owe you a thank you."

"Excuse me?"

"Thank you. For lunch the other day. If you hadn't been such a bitch, I wouldn't have wanted to leave. And if I hadn't wanted to leave I wouldn't have begged Keaton to take me home. If he hadn't taken me home that day I wouldn't be wearing this." I wiggled my ring finger at her, making sure that the stone on my finger caught the florescent light above us in such a way that it would sparkle right in her eye. She gently grabbed my hand and pulled it to her eye level. I watched her as she turned my hand this way and that to get a good look at my ring. And then she laughed. Not exactly the response I was expecting.

"Oh, my stars, Brodie! It's about time!" she giggled as she reached out and hugged me. This woman, who threw icy daggered stares at me every single time she saw me, didn't just hug me. She pulled me to her and squeezed me with a force that I thought could only come from four hundred pound linebackers. I had obviously entered the Twilight Zone when I stepped through the motorized doors of the grocery store. I didn't even know what to do with myself so I just stood there and let her hug me.

"Lord, girl. That man has been pining over you day in and day out. Sugar, he talked about you so much I thought I was starting to fall in love with you. Every single time I went to that restaurant to try and help him with the decor and whatever else he needed, he always seemed to bring the conversation around to you. Even when he started seeing that silly bar wench. Ugh. I'm glad to see that one going." She shivered at the mention of Kailee and I did too. All while chuckling at hearing someone refer to her as a bar wench. But, I was still in shock at Audrey's sudden change in attitude. If I had known that a ring would make her be nice to me, I'd have gotten engaged the day I met her. But come to think of it, she wasn't like this when I married Gray. Something was weird. Really weird.

"Yeah, she's still working at the restaurant. It's a long story but she's basically dead set on making Keaton's life a living hell until this baby gets here."

"And how are you feeling about this baby?"

"I'm not happy about it. I can't lie about that but if this is Keaton's child I will support whatever decision he makes. If that means paying her child support and dealing with her for the next eighteen years, then that is what we will do. If he decides to fight her for custody, then that's what we will do. I just want him to be happy and he hasn't said it but I know there is a part of him that wants this kid to be his. Not because of her but just because of the possibility of him being a father. And I understand that. I can't take that away from him."

"I see. So, did he give you the ring the day he took you home?"

"No. He came over the next day to see Braelynn and after she went to bed we stayed up and talked about some things and decided —" I stopped talking when I noticed the look on Audrey's face. She had her signature cat-ate-the-canary grin on her face which meant she knew something I didn't. I had been around her enough to recognize that look. She already knew about the ring. She already knew he was planning on trying to give it to me again.

"You knew, didn't you?"

"Knew what? I'm not a mind reader, Brodie. Be more clear about your nonsense"

And the Audrey I knew was back.

"Don't play that game with me, Audrey. You know exactly what I'm talking about! You knew that he was going to try to give me this ring again. That's the whole reason you planned that lunch the other day. Chelsea and Walker could have asked me to be in their wedding at any time. Hell, she texts me at least twelve times a day. They didn't need you. You set me up."

"Looks like it worked, didn't it?"

"Holy hell! You did! You set me up! Why?"

"Because, Brodie, that man is head over heels in love with you and it was starting to affect his business. And that affects my business, you know. I own half of that restaurant. Most days he wouldn't even come in until after twelve. And on the days he did come in early he still smelled like the bottom of the bottle he'd been nursing the night before. The man was a mess."

'What the hell do you care, though? You hate me so wouldn't you do everything you could to help him forget about me and move on with his life? Why help him get me back?"

"Listen here, you pig-headed, foul-mouthed, pain in my rear!" Audrey was so close to me that the finger she was pointing was poking me in the chest. "I don't hate you. Far from it. Honey, I have loved you since the first time you walked through my door. But I keep you at a distance and give you a hard time to keep you away from Walker."

I looked around to see if anyone else in the grocery store was paying attention to one of their most elite members of society working a bruise into my sternum. No one else in the store seemed to even notice we were there. Hearing what she said really started to make me question my intelligence and my sanity. I couldn't seem to make heads or tails of any of the things going on in my life right now and now I couldn't even process what she was saying to me. She didn't hate me but she was trying to keep me away from Walker. What did that even mean? And if she didn't hate me then why would she try to keep me away from Walker? I decided that this was a conversation we needed to have outside where no one else could hear us instead of standing next to the chip aisle where anyone looking for a good afternoon snack was bound to overhear what she had to say.

"Can we talk outside?"

"Yes, let's pay for our stuff and then I'll walk with you to your car. I'm sorry, Brodie. I wasn't expecting to see you today and it's caught me off guard. I've been wanting to talk to you by myself but I know I'm so ugly to you that I knew it would be hard to convince you to sit down and have a conversation with me."

I just nodded. I didn't even know what to say. Audrey went ahead of me and paid for her groceries. I stood there staring at the tabloids next to the register trying to get lost in someone else's drama. The cashier rang up my items. I paid her, gathered my bags, and then silently followed Audrey outside. I placed my backs in the backseat of my truck while Audrey put her items in her car. I sat down in the driver's seat with the door open waiting on her to walk back over to me. As she walked up and leaned on the side of my truck, I saw a look on her face I'd never seen before. She was worried about something.

"Okay, Audrey, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I see the way he looks at you. He's looked at you like that since you were thirteen years old. I love my boy but you deserve a far better man than him and if he thinks I don't like you he'll never give pursuing you a serious thought."

"Wait, are you trying to say Walker is in love with me?"

"Brodie, you can't be that dense. You have to know. Everyone else does. Even Keaton. He and I have talked about it before."

"I don't get it, Audrey. Walker isn't a bad guy. If he really was in love with me, why discourage it? Wouldn't you want your son to be happy?"

"Honey, I would do anything in this world within my power to make my son happy. He's the only one I've got. But he's not normal. You and I both know that. I think you block stuff out and make excuses for some of the things he does and says because you don't want to admit to yourself that something is wrong with him but something is. I don't know what but I care about you just as much as I care about him and I don't want you to ever get caught up in whatever his problem is. I do thank the good lord above that he's had you as a friend. I think it's kept him somewhat normal for this long but I can see him unraveling. I can see it in his eyes."

"What aren't you telling me? What makes you think he's not normal?"

"Whatever I tell you has to stay between us. I don't want to embarrass him and I honestly don't know what he would do if he found out I told you any of this. He's been in trouble for stalking girls before."

"What?" I nearly fell out of the seat of my truck. Walker and I had been together almost every single day of our lives since the seventh grade. Yes, there had been times where he'd been grounded and couldn't hang out but he told me it was over stupid stuff like not cleaning his room. I had never once heard about him stalking any girls or ever gotten the impression that he was someone who would do such a thing. In the line of work that I'm in, you would think I'd be better at picking these sort of people out.

"That summer before y'all started tenth grade, when you went to the beach and stayed with your aunt and uncle? That was the first time the two of you had actually been apart for more than a few days since becoming friends. At first he was kind of depressed and didn't want to hang out with any of the neighborhood boys. He just sat in his room listening to music and watching TV. One Saturday Gunner Hayes had come by and had convinced him to finally leave his room. They went to the mall. He came home and Brodie, I thought he was high. He was acting so strange. He seemed so happy. He was hyper and so completely different from the depressed boy that had left my house four hours before. He started hanging out with Gunner more and more and seemed to be really happy so I quit worrying about him as much. I thought he finally got over missing you and decided to enjoy his summer."

"So what happened?"

"One weekend he told me he wanted to go camping with Gunner on Gunner's grandfather's hunting property. I knew Gunner's parents' house wasn't far from the property so I didn't see a problem with it and I let him go. While he was gone I decided to clean his room for him so that he could enjoy his summer and not worry about his dad and me riding his case so much. It just looked like a messy room at first. But once I got all of the clothes out of the floor, I started noticing pictures lying all over the place. They were pictures of a girl but they weren't pictures of a girl who knew her picture was being taken. These were from far away or from angles that someone who was with the girl wouldn't have been in. She looked just like you. And then I found a stack of notebooks full of awful stuff. Drawings and poems and just ramblings. I know that people say this as a joke but I am dead serious when I say that I thought the devil had control of my child. I was so scared, Brodie. I showed the pictures and the notebooks to his father and we decided that he needed to come home so that we could talk to him and figure out what was going on. When we called Gunner's parents they told us that they hadn't seen Walker in two weeks. All this time he was telling us he was going to hang out with Gunner he was sneaking off to go spy on this girl."

The hair on my arms and the back of my neck was standing up. Why had Audrey not pulled me aside and mentioned this earlier? And why was she telling me this now. I knew Walker was into some weird stuff when it came to women and yeah he made crude comments to me sometimes but I honestly thought he was just joking. I never thought he was serious about anything he said when it came to that kind of stuff. And I damn sure never thought that he was in love with me. Audrey opened the back door of my truck and climbed in so she could sit down in the seat behind me. I wasn't sure if I was going to throw up or cry. Or both.

"Where was he?"

"We don't know. His father went looking for him and I stayed home just in case he came home. Gunner and his father went looking for him as well. We called the police once it got late and we still couldn't find him. They wouldn't do anything because he hadn't been missing for twenty four hours. The next morning, I was cooking breakfast and he came walking in the door like everything was fine. He had a big smile on his face and was in a great mood. I was so sick I couldn't even look at him. I can't even describe it. I was so worried about him but I was also so incredibly pissed at him too because of him lying to me and the stuff that I had found. His father was in a worse way than I was. I cut him off before he could get up the stairs to his room and I told him that I'd cleaned his room for him. The look on his face when he realized that I'd seen the pictures scared me, Brodie. It wasn't fear or anger. It was — it was almost as if he was proud that I'd seen what he'd done. He had no remorse about it. We sat down and talked to him about the whole thing and he assured us that he'd never actually made contact with the girl. He thought she was really pretty and wanted to talk to her but didn't know how to approach her so he'd been watching her to try and figure out what she liked. I didn't believe her but I didn't want to think of a worse alternative. I burned all of the pictures and the notebooks and his father grounded him. And mandated that his butt be in church every time the doors were open. That might not have been the best solution but we honestly didn't know what else to do."

"Do you know who the girl was?"

"No. He wouldn't tell us anything. The only thing we did know is that he'd seen her at the mall that first day he went off with Gunner. Gunner had told us that."

"Is that the only time?"

"That's the only time I've caught him stalking a girl. It's not the only time I've found strange things in his room."

"What else?"

"I probably shouldn't be telling you all of this. You already have enough on you as it is."

"Audrey, you may not understand this, but I need you to tell me everything. I need to know."

"You remember that girlfriend he had that was in college when y'all were like sixteen?"

"Amy?"

"Yes. I hated that girl. Anyway, I caught them having sex one time. Only it wasn't just regular like teenage boy, clumsy sex. I thought I heard a scream so I thought something was wrong and opened his door and it was — oh, heavens, it was disgusting. I'm not even really a prude, Brodie, but seeing your son like that it was just —" She had her hands on her chest and I could see her skin turning a tinge green. Whatever she had seen was apparently still so vivid in her memory that she was really getting sick.

"I'm sorry, it's just difficult to even say out loud."

"It's okay. If it makes you that sick, then you don't have to tell me."

"He had her tied up. But not like, oh, let me tie your hands to the bed post and pretend like you're really trapped. He had her hog tied like a wild animal with her feet and her arms tied together above her back. And a rope in her mouth, wrapped around her head. He was behind her, pulling on that rope in her mouth like she was a horse. I've never in my life seen anything like it and I damn sure didn't expect to see it going on in my sixteen year old son's bedroom!"

"Oh, my —"

"The worst part is that neither one of them looked embarrassed. They just looked annoyed because I had interrupted. Walker's dad walked upstairs when he heard me screaming. He told that vile girl she was never allowed back at our house and to stay away from our son. Walker got so mad that he packed a bag and left. He didn't even tell us where he was going. A few hours later, Gunner's mother called to let me know that he was staying at their house. I didn't give her the gory details of course but I did tell her that he was really upset with us and she offered to let him stay for a few more days in order to let things settle down. When he came home he acted like nothing ever happened. He never brought it up and I couldn't bear to think about it so it was just never discussed. I found several magazines in his room over the years dedicated to torture and what do they call it? BDSM? To each their own as a consenting adult but he was my teenage son. It really scared me."

"I don't even know what to say right now, Audrey."

"I'm sorry I even told you this. I guess I've just been holding it all in and now with you engaged, I'm not sure how he'll handle it. He liked you and Keaton not being together. Any time I mentioned trying to get the two of you back together he would quickly shoot it down. He's the culprit behind Keaton and Kailee. And I feel so bad for poor Chelsea. She's a sweetheart but she's dumb as dirt. She has no clue that Walker is cheating on her. And he doesn't even sneak around anymore. Hell, he brought one of his whores to Sunday dinner one night and told Chelsea that he was thinking about hiring her as a secretary and since we're such a close knit family and always together he wanted to make sure he hired someone who got along with the family. She fell for it."

"He's cheating on her?"

"Well, of course. He's cheated on every girl he's been with. He can't stay with just one girl. He's disgusting, Brodie. Sometimes it makes me sick to look at him. You know he caught crabs one time?"

"Yes, in Panama City. I was with him. And actually tried to talk him out of sleeping with that girl. If he was really in love with me, then why was he always blowing me off for other girls?"

"He thought it would make you jealous. He spent so much time doting on you and doing everything you wanted and that didn't work so he thought if he focused his attention on other girls that you would finally get a clue and be with him. He's violent, too. With girls. Chelsea hasn't mentioned it but I've seen bruises on her. And the way he talks about women. Ugh! His father and I did not raise him to be like that."

"You think it's because of me?"

"No, dear. I don't know what caused this. I honestly don't know. Maybe he really is the spawn of Satan. Don't you see it in his eyes? You work with people like this all the time."

The more Audrey talked the more memories started flooding my brain. I started thinking about all of our times together. All the times I'd seen him kissing other girls, catching him looking at me while his tongue was shoved down her throat. I'd always been one of the guys as a kid and thought that maybe he was just watching me to see if I was cheering him on. It never crossed my mind that he might have been doing it to make me jealous. I knew, as soon as Audrey started telling me Walker's secrets that he was my killer. It was the only thing that made sense. The stalking, the rough sex, way he treats other women but is so good to me. Walker had done this. My heart felt like it was going to explode at any minute. I had figured out who the killer was all thanks to being run over by his mother's grocery cart. But how did I prove it?

"I — I mean, I've noticed some weird things before but I — I guess I've just tried to ignore them. I work with so many creeps that I just thought maybe I was reading more into things than what it was. Audrey, I have to ask you something that I really don't want to ask you. Do you think he would ever kill anyone?"

Audrey looked up at me with watery eyes. Her flawless, beautiful face suddenly showed her age. I could see the muscles in her jaws twitching as she was trying to keep herself from crying.

"I used to think he would grow out of whatever this was. I used to think that he may have been into some really strange things but that he was relatively harmless. But I don't anymore. Not lately. Do I think he would ever kill anyone? Without a doubt."

She didn't cry. She blinked and the watery look in her eyes was gone. The look of weariness and shame had been replaced with a mask of the Audrey that everyone else saw. Audrey would not be a woman that revealed her weaknesses to the world. She smoothed her dress and climbed down out of my truck. Like a true Southern woman, she would not be airing her dirty laundry out in public.

"I know about the dead girls. He's talked to me about them. Nothing specific, just mentioning it in passing. I don't know if what I told you can help you. I don't know if he did it or not but I do know that he's spiraling out of control. If he hasn't hurt anyone, yet, it won't be long before he does. And I'm scared, Brodie. For him and whoever he takes down with him. If you need me, you know how to get in touch."

I sat there in my truck watching Audrey walk back to her car and then drive away. The stories she had told me seemed too fantastic to be made up. And Audrey was not one to bring any negative attention to her family. This was not the story of some attention seeking crazy woman. This was a plea for help from a worried mother. If Gunner knew about the stalking in Walker's past, why had he not mentioned it? And who was the girl he'd been stalking? I had no doubt in my mind after hearing what Audrey had said that Walker was the killer. I just had to figure out now why he'd killed Chloe and Janelle. Had Gunner been in on it? I dialed Gunner's number and waited for him to answer.

"Hello gorgeous!" I could hear the smile in his voice. It made me want to throw up.

"Are you busy?"

"Never for you. What's up? More interrogation?"

"I'm going to send you directions to my house. Can you be there in thirty minutes?"

"Sure. Are you okay? You don't sound too good."

"Just be there in thirty minutes."

At home while I was waiting for Gunner to get there I pulled out my copies of the case files and tried to go back over everything in them with Walker in mind. He obviously knew Chloe. I could easily tie him to her through Gunner and Chelsea. Chelsea knew Janelle somehow but I wasn't sure how and I wasn't sure how to tie Janelle to Walker. Chelsea was the last person to see Chloe alive. Chelsea lived with Walker and it was entirely possible that Chloe had gone over to his house that Tuesday night. Walker knew Gunner, had known Gunner for a very long time, so it was easy for him to exploit Gunner's weaknesses, including his issues with Chloe in order to frame him for her murder. Offering to represent Gunner was Walker's sick way of staying close to the case. He wanted to get caught but he wanted to get caught when he was ready. That meant he'd be making sure to keep things pointed in Gunner's direction if I got too close too fast.

The picture of Keaton and Kailee fit into Walker's habits if he was a stalker. And if he'd been stalking women since the tenth grade then he was already well-educated in how to do it and not get caught. I thought about what Keaton said about the killer wanting to get my by myself so that I was forced to turn to him. Walker had been doing something similar the whole time we were friends. He would always find some reason why the guy I was dating was a bad guy and would run the guy off. Then I was left as the third wheel to him and his flavor of the week. Walker also had a very bad habit of comparing his latest girlfriends to me. I thought he was doing it to insult me but apparently it was the other way around. He was doing it to humiliate them. He wanted them to see what kind of woman he wanted and what kind of woman they would never be. I was still reading through Janelle's file when I heard my doorbell ring. I walked to the door, peeked through the side window, and saw Gunner standing on the doorstep with his hands in his pockets, waiting for someone to open up.

"Hey, come on in."

"I got here as quick as I could. Nice house. Oh, the mail man was outside as I was pulling up and so I got your mail for you. I didn't look at it, I promise." He handed me the stack of mail and I started sorting through it as he followed me to the kitchen.

"Want a drink?"

"Whiskey?"

"Sure." I poured him a glass and passed it to him. I went back to sorting the mail while I watched him out of the corner of my eye. "I had an interesting conversation with Walker's mother today at the grocery store."

"Oh, yeah? About what?"

"Too much to explain really but I did want to ask you about something. Did you know about the girl he stalked when we were teenagers? When he told his parents that he was hanging out with you?"

Gunner dropped the glass in his hand and it shattered all over my kitchen counter. He didn't move to clean it up. He just stood there and stared at me, a look of fear on his face.

"Why did she tell you about that? What did she tell you about that?"

"What was the girl's name?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know or you won't tell me?"

"I — really don't know. She had a nickname. Snake. She had a pet snake. She was buying mice for it the day we met her at the mall."

"What happened to her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Audrey said that Walker promised them he wouldn't stalk her anymore after she and his father confronted him about it. He may have promised but I don't believe he followed through. What happened to that girl?"

"I — I —" he started scooping glass and whiskey into his hands and throwing it all in my garbage can. "Brodie, I — I don't want to know. I haven't thought about any of that in fifteen years. Walker is my friend. He's been there for me through a lot of shit. Hell, he's trying to keep me from going to jail for murder. We were just dumb kids. I don't know what happened to that girl and I don't want to know."

"Tell me."

"She disappeared. She didn't have a good home life. Maybe she ran away? Why are you even asking me any of this?"

"Because, I —" before I could say anything else I spotted the black and white envelope peeking out from between an Us magazine and a Smith and Wesson catalog. I didn't wait to see who it was addressed to. I tore open the side of the envelope and shook out its contents. The only thing that fell out was a picture of Braelynn and Keaton. It had been taken from far away like the other picture. There was no date on this picture but I could tell it was recently because Keaton had the beginnings of a beard on his chin. He hadn't shaved since last Friday. I turned the picture over and the only thing written on the back was a set of coordinates. Walker was ready. He was ready to be caught. But he was going to use my daughter to do it. Without saying a word to Gunner I ran into my office and typed in the coordinates on Google Earth to figure out where in the hell he had taken my daughter. The results brought up an aerial picture of my house. I typed the coordinates in three more times and each time it was the same thing. He was here. With Braelynn. And Keaton?

"Brodie, are you okay?"

"Walker. He has Braelynn."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't have time to explain it," I said as I opened my gun safe and started shoving pistols in my waistband, bra, and boots. I was more than prepared to take him out in order to save my daughter. I could no longer look at him as my friend. He was a sick killer and he had my child. "Walker is the killer. He killed Chloe and Janelle and tried to set you up for it in some sick, twisted attempt to get me to be with him."

"What the fuck?"

"There's no time to have a long conversation about this. He has my daughter somewhere on my property and I have to find her." I ran out of the office and into the yard. Woods surrounded half of my property. The other half was water. He could be anywhere in these woods or somewhere down the river. I heard Gunner come up behind me as I was walking around the side of the house. How had he gotten them here if his car wasn't here? I got sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and ran to my truck to use the garage opener. I heard barking behind the garage door and I hit the button to raise it. Roscoe shot out from under the door as soon as it started lifting from the ground and took off. Walker must have trapped him down here. I saw Keaton's jeep parked inside. I walked around to the driver's side of the Jeep looking for any kind of clue that might tell me what had happened or where he had taken them. There was blood on the inside of the driver door and on the steering wheel. Braelynn's book bag was in the backseat along with her jacket and mp3 player. I turned around and ran back outside to the backyard hoping to see something. That's when I saw the blood. Drops of blood littered the rocks that lead out to the grill and Braelynn's playhouse.

"Look, Brodie! Blood! It's going out this way." Gunner took off running, following the blood trail. I followed the blood out to Gunner, getting closer and closer to the boathouse. Gunner stopped at the edge of the water and was looking down at the ground.

"What is it?"

"Looks like Keaton's shoe?"

A noise inside the boathouse gave Walker up. I knew before I got to the door that he was in there with my baby girl and Keaton. As scared as I was for Keaton, I was terrified beyond belief for Braelynn. She trusted Walker. She'd called him Uncle Wally all of her life. He must have used that to his advantage to get her and Keaton in a position to overpower them. I ran through the door and saw Braelynn and Keaton tied together in the corner of the boathouse. Keaton's face was swollen and bloody from where Walker had obviously beat him. The blood trail I had followed had probably come from his broken nose. Before I could run to them and untie them I felt someone grab me. He had his strong arm wrapped around my throat and was pulling the gun out of my waistband.

"It's about time you got here. I was starting to get worried that you weren't coming." Gunner ran through the door about this time, knocking into Walker and sending me flying across the floor. I almost fell into the water where the boat was docked. "I see you brought a friend to join us." Walker said as he punched Gunner in the face. Gunner took a step back and then tackled Walker against the wall. While they were fighting I tried to crawl my way around them to untie Keaton and Braelynn. Right as I was reaching out to untie the knot on the rope I heard a loud crack and felt fire underneath my right shoulder blade. I spun around to see what had happened and I saw Walker aiming a gun at me. He'd shot me. I stood up as best I could and started walking towards him. I was hoping that if I could walk my way around the boathouse I could get away from Keaton and Braelynn and keep them from getting hit by stray bullets.

"What are you doing, Walker? You don't want to do this."

"You're right, I don't. But you gave me no choice. I gave you evidence that he was cheating on you and you still stayed with him! I gave you all the evidence you needed that he wasn't being faithful to you and you didn't care. You still wanted to be with him. You're not ever going to be with me until I get him out of your life."

"What were you planning to do with Braelynn?"

"Brodie, you should know me better than that. You know I would never hurt that sweet girl. I love her like she's my own. But, I knew that she was going to have to be what I used to finally get you to wake up. Nothing else was working. I got desperate. She's the only thing I knew you absolutely couldn't live without. I knew you would come and find her."

"Why didn't you just tell me how you felt, Walker?"

"Would it have helped? Would you have even listened to me? You don't look at me like you do other men. You don't even look at me like a man. I'm just a substitute for the girl friends you don't have in your life."

"It may have worked in the past. I had feelings for you once, Walker. I was madly in love with you but you were more worried about all these other girls that were running around. And then Gunner came into the picture. Is that why you used him? Is that why you killed Chloe and tried to frame him for it?"

I saw Gunner slumped against the wall behind Walker. Walker couldn't see Gunner from where he was standing. Gunner was clutching his chest and trying to slowly and quietly get to Braelynn and Keaton. I could hear Braelynn behind me crying. I wanted to go to her and wrap her up in my arms so bad. I just wanted to tell her that everything would be okay. Keaton was whispering to her. I couldn't make out what he was saying but she eventually stopped crying.

"You're lying. You never had feelings for me!"

"Yes, I did! That day we went to the Alabama Theater? I kept asking you to ride the Wurlitzer with me because I was scared. I was scared but a bigger part of me just wanted to ride that thing down into the dark stage with you and have you wrap your arm around me and keep me safe. You had your chance then but you decided to choose another girl over me. You make this seem like I've just been so awful to you and ignored all of your advances but you're the one that kept us apart. This is your own fault, Walker."

I walked closer to him, talking with my hands out so that he could see them. It was hard to hold up my right arm because of the pain from where he'd shot me. I could feel blood running down my side and into the waistband of my pants.

"Stop, Brodie. Just stand still."

"Okay. I'm still. How do you expect this to end, Walker? Hmm? You're going to kill Gunner and Keaton? Braelynn and I are just supposed to run off into the sunset with you? Is that how this works? What about your mother? What about Chelsea? I thought you were really in love with her."

"Chelsea is a worthless bitch. I don't love her. The only person I've ever loved is you. And yes, we can just run away. I bought a house on an island in the Bahamas. It's beautiful. I've even decorated Braelynn's room for her, there's a huge kitchen, a living room, there's even an office so that you can work on that writing career you always wanted. We can have it all, Brodie. I've got plenty of money. You'd never have to work again."

"But Braelynn and I don't get a choice, do we? It's either your way or no way, right?"

"Don't be like this, Brodie! You know I'd be good to you and Braelynn!"

"What happened to the girl you stalked? The one that looked like me?"

Walker flinched at the mention of this girl. His eyes narrowed but the arm holding up the gun never moved. I had obviously hit a nerve. He didn't like hearing that girl mentioned.

"Who told you about her? Did you? Did you fucking tell her?"

He spun around and kicked Gunner hard in the ribs. He kept kicking as Gunner was holding his hands in front of him trying to fight him off. Walker had lost it. He was beyond reach at this point. Watching him kicking Gunner, I already knew how this was going to end. I was going to lose the person I had called my best friend.

"He didn't tell me. Your mother did."

"My mother? She hates you. Why would she tell you anything?"

"According to her, she doesn't hate me. Actually, she cares a great deal about me but knew early on that you were dangerous and treated me the way she did to keep me at a distance and to make you think that she wouldn't approve. And we all know how much mommy's approval means to you. Tell me what happened to the girl."

"I'm not telling you shit! You shut up! I killed Chloe and Janelle because they were whores. They deserved to die."

"Whores who wouldn't have you?"

"They acted like they were better than me. That fucking redhead fucked me but wanted me to pay her. I wasn't going to pay her. Look at me! I don't pay women to fuck me. Women throw themselves at me all the time."

"Just not the ones you want, right?"

"Shut up."

"Were you going to kill me, too?"

"What? No, damnit. Brodie, I love you I just want you to be with me. I just want you to give me a chance to make you happy. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Did you kill Grayson?"

He dropped the arm holding the gun. Gunner was halfway to Keaton and Braelynn so I had to keep Walker talking to me. I had to keep his attention focused on me. I watched him stick the gun in his waist and then rub his face with his hands. When he pulled his hands from his face he was smiling at me. It was a sick, maniacal smile that you only see on villains in the movies.

"No. Griffin killed him. I just paid for it."

I heard Braelynn screaming behind me but it sounded like she was miles away. I felt like I was being sucked into a vortex. Nothing felt real. The whole world was spinning under my feet and I felt sick. I wanted to be the hero who saved everyone but I had a feeling I was about to pass out.

"See, Brodie, I thought that maybe with Grayson dead, you would come running to me for sympathy. I thought for sure that I would be the one to wipe away your tears and mend your broken heart. That had been the plan and then here came Keaton. He's a smooth guy. It took me a long time to try to find something wrong with him. By the time I found a weakness you had already sabotaged the relationship yourself. And then when I finally thought this was it, you spent all your fucking time whining about missing him and Grayson. I had to compete with a dead guy and an ex. It was exhausting. You just looked right through me. This seemed like my only option."

Gunner was now out of my eyesight which told me that he was closer to Braelynn and Keaton than he had been. But if he was behind me then Walker would be able to see him. I started walking towards the boat floating in the water. I kept enough distance between Walker and I so that he couldn't grab me. As I got closer to the boat, he turned his back on Keaton and Braelynn. I could barely make them out in the corner of my eye. Keaton was whispering to Braelynn who was crying again.

"This ruined if for you, Walker. Why would you think I would ever want to be with you after this?"

"Because you'll either be with me and be alive or you'll die. It's that simple."

"If you can't have me no one can, huh?"

"You catch on pretty quick, detective."

"Tell me this, how did you manage to get the girls bodies where you dumped them?"

"My sweet momma has keys to both places. She's on the beautification board and preservation board of both places. She also donates a lot of money which allows her to have a key. That was all I needed."

"Did you kill Janelle first?"

"No. But I did kidnap her first. She died watching me strangle Chloe."

"I've got to sit down." I made my way over to the wall by the door of the boathouse and slid down it, facing Walker the whole time. Gunner had gotten Keaton and Braelynn untied and they were sneaking back around Walker. The only way out was the door that he was blocking. He had taken the gun in my waistband and bra but had missed the one in my boot. From the way I was sitting, I could reach into my boot and pull it out without him noticing. I wanted to wait until Braelynn, Keaton and Gunner were out of the way.

"I'm sorry I shot you. I just didn't want you to untie them."

"I'll live. Unfortunately for you. Who are you? What happened to my best friend?" I huffed as I slid my hand down into my boot. I never broke eye contact with him. I didn't want him to notice my arm moving down the side of my leg.

"Who am I? I am your best friend. And a man madly in love with you."

Walker walked closer to me. I scooted back as close as I could to the wall. He squatted down in front of me and reached out his hand but I wouldn't take it. He dropped his hand and stood back up.

"Brodie, I really am sorry. I'm sorry for all of this. This is your fault, though. You know that. And I won't kill Keaton. All you have to do is tell him it's over and that you never want to see him again. That's it. We'll pack up yours and Braelynn's stuff and we'll move to our new house and never think about him again."

"Really?"

"No. I can't fucking trust you. There's no way I'm going to leave him alive so that you can pine for him and sneak love notes to him in hopes that one day he'll come rescue you from me. Hell no. All of this would be for nothing."

"It already is for nothing." I pulled the trigger as I was coming up off of the floor. The first bullet hit him in the chest. I wasn't taking any chances and shot again, hitting him in the head. He stumbled backwards, slipping on the side of the dock, and fell into the water next to the boat. I stood over the water, watching, waiting for him to move again. When he didn't I ran over to Braelynn and pulled her up into my arms. I squeezed her so hard I thought I heard her ribs crack. Keaton came up behind us and was holding us both. I heard Gunner talking someone and spun around to see Captain Stephens and Beau coming through the door.

"Barrett, you okay?"

"I'll live, Cap'n. How did you know we were here?"

"Your friend here called us a few minutes ago. We got here as fast as we could. Apparently, not fast enough. There's an ambulance in the driveway. Go get yourself and Braelynn in it and get yourself to the hospital. I'll call in CSU and take care of this. You take care of yourself and your family."

"Yes, sir."

Beau walked up to me with tears in his eyes. He didn't say a word. He just wrapped an arm around me and hugged me. Keaton picked up Braelynn and we walked to the ambulance. I made sure that Gunner rode with us to get checked out, too. That was technically breaking the rules but right now I didn't care. He'd helped me save my family and for that I would be eternally grateful.
Epilogue

Five months later:

"Are you ready yet, momma?"

"Give me just another minute, Braelynn. This dress is like Chinese water torture!"

"Just hurry up, momma! Everyone is waiting on you!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I said as I hobbled my way out of the dressing room and into the lobby of the Simpson Wedding Chapel. Manhattan had an exclusive contract with them to cater all of their events so Mr. Simpson had given us free reign of the wedding chapel. Braelynn, my maid of honor, looked beautiful in her light purple tea-length gown. I had let Braelynn do all of the dresses and flowers, including picking out my own dress. Now that I was standing on the other side of the chapel door wearing what was surely a seventeenth century torture device I was pretty sure I'd never let her pick out another dress for me. The dress was an off white color with a strapless sweetheart neckline and lots of lace and beading all the way down. It was form-fitting in the hips and flared out at the bottom with a five foot train behind it. The shoes she had picked out were five inches tall with pencil thin stiletto heels and I was scared to death I was going to fall and break my neck.

"Are you ready now, momma?" She smiled up at me.

"Yes, let's get this show on the road."

She stuck her head in the door and nodded to the music man. I heard the theme music to Cinderella start up; also picked by Braelynn. The double doors opened and Braelynn started her trek down the aisle. She had practice her walk all week. She made sure to stop at every row and nod hello to everyone each side of her. The chapel was packed with people. My family was sitting in the first two rows. Keaton's family had flown in from the real Manhattan and was taking up the first four rows on his side. Everyone else seated on either side were friends from college or work. I hadn't even wanted a big wedding but Braelynn had pitched a fit. She said it wasn't fair to Keaton since he'd never been married before. Keaton was obviously on her side. I gave in under the condition that Braelynn got to pick out everything since she was the one championing for it. Seeing all of the white roses, tulips, and tiger lilies spread out around the chapel, I would say she'd done an amazing job. She and my mother had made me a bouquet from broaches, buttons, and old earrings that belong to all the women in my family. Just before I was about to take a step, I felt an arm link into mine. I looked up and saw Grayson's father smiling down at me.

"Jerry? What are you doing here?"

"Braelynn had a long talk with me and her Mims about you getting married again. I can't lie. It really hurt. But I know that Grayson would want you and Braelynn to be happy. She thinks a lot of Keaton and swore to us that we'd like him a lot if we got to know him. She told us that he reminds her a lot of her daddy. And then she asked me if I would walk you down the aisle since you father was no longer here to do the honor. If you'll have me, Brodie, I'd love to give you away."

I didn't say anything because I was scared I would start crying. I tried to blink back the tears. I just smiled and nodded. He nodded back at me and we started down the aisle. I was halfway down the aisle before Keaton turned his head to look at me. I could tell he was nervous. I saw his twitchy fingers clasped together in front of him. His eyes got wide when they met mine and mouthed the word 'wow' at me. I couldn't help but smile and I'm sure I blushed a little. I looked back down at Braelynn who was almost to the end of the aisle. Before she stepped up onto the little wooden platform that was the stage, she stopped by my mother's seat and kissed her new baby brother on the head.

Kailee had been pregnant and the baby hadn't been Keaton's. Kailee didn't know who the father was. She was going to give the baby up for adoption. Keaton came home from work the day she went into labor and told me all about Kailee's plan. As this point, we still didn't know whether he was Keaton's or not. We rushed to the hospital just in time for Keaton to sign the birth certificate. I think he'd already made up his mind that he was going to be there for this child regardless of whether he really was his child or not. The next week we had the paternity test done and took Kailee to court to gain custody since she was going to put the baby up for adoption anyway. She didn't fight us. The judge granted us custody and now I was the mother of a baby boy named Vincenzo, or Vinny for short, after Keaton's grandfather. I think we were all madly in love with him. He was wearing a tiny onesie with a tuxedo print on it and was snuggled in my mother's lap. Sitting next to my mother was Audrey, who was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. I'd never be able to repay her helping Keaton and I get back together or for helping me figure out that Walker was who he was.

Jerry and I reached the front of the platform and the preacher did the formalities of letting him give me away. He kissed me on the cheek and shook Keaton's hand before placing my hand into Keaton's. Keaton helped me up onto the platform. I got a good long look at my new handsome husband. He'd grown his hair back out a little. It was wavy and grazing his eyebrows. I loved running my hands through it when we were snuggling in bed at night. His slate gray tux and light purple vest and tie made him look like a GQ model. A GQ model that I couldn't wait to undress. I smiled and winked at him. He stifled a giggle as the preacher began the vows. We swapped our vows and rings. And then Keaton got to kiss his bride. And boy did he! As soon as the preacher said, "you make kiss the bride," he grabbed me, pulled me to him, and dipped me; kissing me hard on the lips. Everyone in the room was cheering and clapping. I knew I was five hundred shades of red and pink from blushing. He set me up right and leaned his head against mine.

"I love you, Mrs. Maddox."

"I love you, too, Mr. Maddox. For all of my life for the rest of my life."

"Same here, sugar. Even when you start pooping yourself."

It seemed like we had come full circle--well, except for the stiletto that snapped off of my dress shoe as I stepped into our get-away car; that was new.

About the Author

Aspiring writer. Book Critic. Mother. Animal Lover. Twitter addict. Insomniac.

Ella is from a very small town in Alabama. When she is not day dreaming about her next story she spend most of her time caring for a Tiny Tyrant and her furry best friend, Mutt. Her house and her electronics are cluttered with books she's read, books she's reading, and books to be read. She also pretends to be a housewife in her spare time, occasionally cooking and cleaning for a wonderful husband who never complains. Writing and reading are her two biggest passions other than pretending to be a T-Rex princess pony that can only eat pink Starburst with her little one. Ella also uses movie quotes and song lyrics constantly in conversation and freaks out/passes out at the sight of slugs.

You can contact Ella for rants, raves, interviews, or lasagna recipes.

E-mail: DraytonElla@gmail.com

Twitter: @EllaDrayton

Her blog: writerip.blogspot.com

