Chapter 12

TWELVE

STEPH HAD LEFT the siblings alone for a few minutes, but now the argument had turned hushed. She was torn between leaving and trying to hear what they were saying. She drew closer to the locker room and hovered outside.

Silence.

Her phone buzzed, but she ignored it. It was probably Tate, Cole, or James, and they would be livid at her not answering, but right now she needed to figure out what was going on with her friend. She opened the door and found Cherry with her head bent, pulling in slow, deep breaths and letting them out through pursed lips.

“Cherry?” She placed a hand on the woman’s bicep, and Cherry finally looked up, her jaw tight. “What’s going on?” Steph asked. “What’s Benji gotten himself into? What messes are you cleaning up?” She swallowed. “Did Benji have something to do with what happened to Brenda?”

Cherry slammed a hand against the nearest locker and Steph flinched. Cherry spun to face her. “You’re the youngest of the kids in your family. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“For as long as I can remember it’s been, ‘Cherry, you have to watch out for Benji.’ ‘Cherry, don’t let anything happen to Benji.’ ‘Cherry, Dad and I are going out with friends, keep an eye on Benji.’ All day. Every day. Even when I was at school—Lake City Private Academy—I had to keep an eye on him and report back to my parents when I got home.” She dragged in a ragged breath. “Do you know how much I came to hate my brother?”

“Oh, Cherry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“You hate me?” Benji’s low voice brought gasps from both women as they spun together to see Benji in the doorway, eyes wide, face pale. “Wow.”

Cherry groaned. “No! I mean I did. Yes.” She waved a hand. “But not now. Now I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What’s my role? In trying to protect you, I...”

“You what?” Steph asked.

“Nothing.”

“Something,” Steph said. She slinked toward the back entrance, eyes bouncing between the siblings.

Benji’s gaze swung to Steph and he scowled. “You just couldn’t leave things alone, could you?”

Steph froze. “What are you saying?”

He took a step toward her and Cherry lunged in front of him. “Benji, don’t.” He pushed his sister aside and advanced. Cherry grabbed his arm and swung him around. “Benji, stop! What are you doing?”

He jerked out of her grip, and something fell from his jacket pocket.

A small pink notebook.

Steph let out a sharp cry, then snapped her lips shut.

But it was too late.

He grabbed for her, but Cherry was in his way, causing him to stumble, giving Steph just enough time to shove open the door and race out the back into the space between the locker room area and a large building that she had no idea what it held.

But the door at the end on the corner was open, so she bolted for it while reaching for her cell phone. She couldn’t help a quick glance back over her shoulder. No one was coming after her at the moment, but she had to get away.

She slipped through the open door, looking for another exit that would enable her to route around to her vehicle. The place was an auto repair garage. Of course Bolin’s would have their own mechanics. She glanced at her phone. She had service and—

A clatter up ahead sent her scurrying behind one of the Subarus. At least they had good taste in SUVs. She tapped a message into her phone to Tate.

Still here. Benji and Cherry had something to do with Brenda’s accident. Benji had the pink notebook.

So, how did Stan fit into all of this? The two had obviously been working together, but...

She hit send. Then dialed 911.

Then noticed neither her text nor her call had gone through.

The metal building. It was blocking the signal. Fabulous.

One worker went in the garage, but so far no one had spotted her. Heart pounding, she scurried across the floor, heading to the exit opposite the one she’d entered. At the very back, just before the door, she came to one of the SUVs that had been damaged.

White paint marred one side, along with a dent and broken headlight. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.” She checked the wheels and found one missing a hubcap. This was the vehicle that had sent Brenda plunging to her death. She needed to call Tate or James or someone and she had to get out of the metal warehouse to do that. Once she was outside, she lifted her phone to check the signal and found three bars.

Something hard pressed into the base of her skull and she froze. “Just keep walking,” the voice behind her said. “Give me the phone.”

She passed it to him.

“Walk.”

“Where?”

“To your car.”

The pressure on her head had moved to the vicinity of her left kidney. “Don’t try to call out or alert anyone.”

“You can’t kill everyone here.”

“I don’t need to.”

Meaning just her? Who was it? She didn’t think it was Benji. It definitely wasn’t Cherry.

“No!”

At her yell, he jerked her to a stop. She took advantage of his momentary surprise to yank out of his grasp and run for her car.

“Hey!” His shout echoed behind her.

“Someone help me!”

Only the place was a graveyard. Where was everyone? She continued her race toward her vehicle but took a circuitous route, dropping behind other cars and darting around anything that could offer her cover. When she finally made it, she threw herself into the driver’s seat, locked the doors, and pressed the button to start the engine. The Subaru roared to life and she jammed the gas, spun the wheel, and aimed for the exit.

As soon as she was through the gate, she headed for Wilkins Gas station. She needed a phone. She’d have to take Youngstown Road, but it was the closest place to find help and—

She nearly jammed on the brakes.

Was this what happened to Brenda?

When she came to the curve, she glanced in the mirror and slowed almost to a crawl. It took mere seconds to get around it, but only when she was past it did she breathe again.

Another glance in the rearview mirror brought a scream to her throat.

The masked figure in her back seat pressed a gun against her shoulder. “Thank you for getting around that death trap. Now, here’s the plan.”

No, there wasn’t going to be a plan. She stomped on the brakes and twisted the wheel away from the mountain drop-off. The sudden jerk sent him slamming back against the door and he let out a harsh scream. The car shuddered to a stop, and she shoved open the door, pushed out of the driver’s seat, and headed for the tree line.

SHE WAS IN TROUBLE. Tate’s gut screamed at him to hurry and he aimed his vehicle toward Youngstown Road. He hated that route as much as the next person, but shaving ten minutes off his time to get to Steph seemed like a good idea. Please take care of her, God. She has people who love her and need her in their lives. I need her in my life too, God. Don’ t let me lose her when you’ve just introduced us. Let me get to know her. Please?

Cole was about five minutes behind him, telling him more information, and James was bringing backup. “How is Stan involved in this?” Tate asked, taking another hairpin curve a little too fast. He pressed the brake and gripped the wheel tight enough for his knuckles to glow white.

“That’s not clear. I’m hoping he can tell us when he wakes up. Also, I got a call from the lab. Stan’s DNA is not on the clothing found in his kitchen. Then again, they were freshly washed so that’s not surprising.”

“You think someone set him up? Left the clothes there to redirect the investigation?”

“I’m leaning that way. I went back for a second look and couldn’t find any other clean clothes. The dirty clothes basket in his bathroom was full.”

“Could have just decided to wash those and not the others.”

“True. How far away are you?”

Tate slammed on the brakes. “Found her car. This side of the curve on Youngstown Road. Doors are open. Front driver and back driver’s side. I think she’s on foot going through the woods somewhere.”

“I’m almost there.”