Pine Lake

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, let’s go have a look.”

The deputies still hovered a few feet away and Tommy went over to confer for a moment.

“What was that all about?” Olive whispered furiously.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” Jack said.

“By lying to the police?”

“It’ll be okay,” he assured her.

Olive wasn’t as convinced, but it was a little too late for second thoughts. Not only had she gone along with Jack’s fabrication, she’d embellished his account. If she came clean now, it would make both of them look foolish and possibly suspect.

But those lies had flowed just a little too easily, from her and from Jack. Olive had never considered herself the subversive type, although as Tommy had pointed out, she supported causes near and dear to her heart and had never been shy about voicing an opinion. Deliberately misleading the police, though? That was a serious matter and one she shouldn’t have undertaken so lightly.

She watched nervously as the two men climbed into the boat and pushed off. When they’d cleared the bank, Jack started the engine and steered them across the channel to the shallow water on the other side. They sat with the motor idling as he angled the spotlight down through the lily pads.

It seemed to Olive they stayed out on the water for an awfully long time. What were they talking about?

Finally, they headed back. Jack tied off and they disembarked.

Tommy climbed up the bank to where Olive and the two deputies waited. “Be easier to get her out from the other side,” he said. “Hope you boys brought your waders.”

Jack came up the bank, too, and she found herself instinctively gravitating to his side even as she kept her focus on the sheriff. “Who is she, Tommy?”

He hesitated. “I guess you’ll find out soon enough. It’s Jamie Butaud.”

Olive felt sick. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty certain. The physical description matches up. And Jack here spotted a tattoo on her left arm. I remember seeing it on Jamie.”

“A mermaid,” Olive murmured.

“You knew her?” Jack inquired gently.

“She was in one of my classes a few years ago before she dropped out of school. I always worried about her. She seemed so lost.”

“She worked for Nathan, didn’t she?” Tommy asked.

Both men peered at Olive in the dark, but it was the fierceness of Jack’s sudden concentration that took her by surprise. “Yes, as a receptionist.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” Tommy asked.

Olive shrugged. “I don’t remember specifically. I rarely go to Nathan’s office, but I would see Jamie in town from time to time, usually with her boyfriend.”

“She was still seeing the Waller kid?”

“Marc? Yes, as far as I know.”

“Bad news, that boy. Comes from a long line of bad news.” Tommy ran a hand through his hair. “Look, here, you two. I need you to keep quiet about this, at least until we can notify next of kin. And I’d like the chance to speak with Waller before he tries to skip town.”

Olive glanced from Tommy to Jack. “You don’t think her death was an accident, do you?”

“That’s safe to assume,” Tommy said. “We’ll know more after the autopsy, but the first thing we have to do is get her out of the water. You don’t need to be here for that. I’ll have Hank run you home while we wait for the coroner.”

“I can take her,” Jack said.

Tommy didn’t look too pleased by the offer. “In your boat? How’s that going to work? Olive lives in town, last I heard.”

“We’ll go to my uncle’s cabin and get my car. Seems to me you’ll need all your manpower here, Sheriff.”

Tommy scowled down at her. “You okay with that arrangement, Olive?”

She resisted the urge to inform him that she’d much rather be alone with Jack King than any of the other men present. Instead, she nodded and turned to Jack. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Tommy was still frowning. “I’ll need to see each of you in my office first thing in the morning. And remember what I said about keeping this quiet.”

Jack took Olive’s arm and helped her navigate the slippery bank. Once they’d cast off, she averted her gaze from the spot where he’d taken Tommy to view the body. But she couldn’t help glancing back at the bridge. She let her gaze travel up the iron braces to the very top of the truss. If Jack hadn’t spotted her...if he hadn’t climbed up there beside her...

Something came to Olive as the bridge receded in the distance. Now she understood why Jack had asked her if she’d heard a loud noise or a car engine.

In all likelihood, she’d been asleep on that beam when Jamie Butaud’s killer had thrown her body off the bridge.

* * *

A LITTLE WHILE later Jack pulled his car into Olive’s driveway and parked. She’d been very quiet on the ride into town, staring out the window until she needed to give him directions to her house.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, just lost in thought.” Her voice had taken on a raspy edge, either from nerves or the night air.

Jack cut the engine and the headlights went out, but the street lamp on the corner cast a hazy glow inside the car. Her skin looked pale in that light, but her face was alive with color—the copper of her freckles and the bright blue of her eyes framed by the deep russet of her hair. She peered at him so steadily he had to shift his gaze to the window, instinctively taking stock of their surroundings.

She lived on a quiet street in the oldest part of town. The houses on her block were small with wide front porches and tidy fenced yards. Jack had grown up only a few blocks over in a sturdy old Craftsman that his mother had loved. It had pained her to leave the house of her dreams, but after everything that had happened to their family, Pine Lake no longer seemed like home.

“What an awful homecoming you’ve had,” Olive murmured, echoing his thoughts. “This night must bring back a lot of bad memories for you.”

“This town is nothing but a bad memory.” He glanced in the rearview mirror, scanning the street behind them.

“If you really feel that way, why did you come back?”

“My uncle’s estate has some loose ends that can’t be tied up over the phone or in an email.”

“Oh, of course. I was so sorry to hear about his passing. He was a nice man. I always enjoyed his stories.” Her regret sounded deep and genuine.

Jack turned in surprise. “His stories?”