Chapter 2

It had been a quiet couple of weeks at the office. So quiet, I’d given my partners Simone Bonet and Lilia Hunter, some time off until business picked back up again. I’d enjoyed the quiet for a few days, but now I felt restless, waiting for a new investigation to get my blood pumping again.

I was sitting at my desk, staring at Luka, my Samoyed, whose head was nestled atop my feet as he snored away. The office door jingled, and Luka sprang up, staring at the woman who’d just stepped through the door. She was tall with long, blond locks and a curvy figure. She removed her mirrored sunglasses and glanced around the room, smiling when her eyes met mine.

“Is this the Case Closed Detective Agency?” she asked. “I didn’t see a sign out front.”

The sign was above the door and would be hard to miss, a fact I decided not to mention.

“It is,” I said. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Georgiana Germaine.”

I walked over and introduced myself. “I’m Georgiana.”

We shook hands, and she said, “My mother is friends with your Aunt Laura. Laura suggested I stop in to talk to you. I’m looking for information on someone from my past.”

“I investigate homicides, but if you’re looking to find someone, I can set up a meeting for you with Lilia Hunter, one of my partners. She specializes in that kind of thing.”

She shook her head, saying, “Oh, no. I don’t think you understand. The person I want you to find … well, I don’t know how else to explain. About twenty years ago, my best friends were murdered. The case was never solved, and I can no longer live with that.”

The thought of a new murder to investigate shouldn’t have excited me as much as it did, but I couldn’t deny the feeling of elation I was experiencing.

“Why don’t we have a seat?” I suggested. “And you can tell me all about it.”

She walked over to my desk and sat down.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Cora Callahan.”

Cora Callahan.

I knew her story well.

Everyone in Cambria did.

The teenage murders were the biggest tragedy to ever happen in Cambria’s quaint town. Six kids who’d just graduated from high school had arranged to meet up at a cabin for a fun weekend before they all went off to college. Within hours of their arrival, five were murdered, and one, who was left for dead, managed to survive—the very one sitting in front of me now.

“I know your story,” I said. “What happened to you and your friends was before I became a detective for the San Luis Obispo Police Department. It was a cold case I’d always wanted to look into, but I’m sorry to say I never got the chance.”

Cora stared down at her hands, clenching them like she was trying to get them to stop shaking. “For a long time, I didn’t even like to think about what happened back then. Every time I did, I’d just get frustrated. There’s so much I can’t remember about that night.”

There’d been many rumors around town after the murders. Some believed Cora knew a lot more than she was saying. Others thought the incident was so horrific, she’d found a way to block it out.

“Not long after the murders, you moved away,” I said. “I’d heard you vowed never to return. Are you living in Cambria again?”

“Not living—visiting.”

“For how long?”

She shrugged. “Hard to say. My father was just diagnosed with … well, I’d rather not go into the details of it right now. I’ll just say he’s not going to be around much longer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ve been back for a few weeks now, and even though I’ve done everything I can to make him my primary focus, I can’t stop thinking about that night at the cabin.”

I flipped my notepad open and grabbed a pen. “What can you tell me about it?”

“I have these flashbacks, moments where I remember something I didn’t before, but it’s all in pieces in my mind. I don’t know how else to explain it.” She leaned back in the chair. “The worst of it is, I can’t separate fact from fiction. I’ll recall something vague, and I can’t be certain whether I invented it in my mind or it’s something that happened.”

“Trauma has a way of playing tricks on our minds. I bet a lot of what you remember has at least some basis in the truth.”

“Before I get into it, I guess I should make sure you’re willing to take the case.”

I was willing all right, and I couldn’t wait to dive in.

“Of course I’ll take your case,” I said.

Cora breathed out a sigh of relief and said, “Good. Your aunt says you’re the best. She said you’ve solved every case you’ve ever had, even cases the police couldn’t solve.”

I remained still for a minute, trying to decide how to respond to her comment. At the time of the murders, my stepdad, Harvey, was one of the detectives who’d worked on the case. I remembered him discussing the case with me. Not being able to solve it before he retired had been one of his biggest regrets.

“Cold cases offer their own set of challenges,” I said. “But I, for one, love a challenge.”

“I’m glad to hear it. What information do you need from me?”

I thought about the best way to get her to talk about the events from that night. “You said you have fuzzy memories. Let’s try and piece them all together like you’re telling it to me in a story form.”

She nodded, and it looked like she was about to speak. Then she clasped a hand to her throat and said, “Sorry. My throat … it’s a little dry.”

I hopped up and walked over to the kitchenette, scouring the top shelf of the refrigerator for options. “We have water, soda, kombucha. What suits you?”

“Water is fine.”

I grabbed her a bottle of water and a kombucha for myself, and I returned to my desk, handing her the water as I sat down. She twisted the cap off, drank half of it down, and then set the bottle on top of the desk.

“It was supposed to be the best weekend of our lives, you know?” she said. “I’d been psyching myself up to tell Owen about my feelings for him. We’d lived next door to each other since we were kids. I’d always considered him a friend until our senior year of high school.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know. Comments from my friends, I guess. They teased me, saying they thought we had a thing for each other and wouldn’t admit it to ourselves. And then one day, I realized they were right.”

“Did you get the chance to tell him before … what happened?”

“I didn’t. After his funeral, his sister reached out to me. She told me Owen told her he wanted to ask me out on a date. It’s too bad we never got a chance to see if we could have been more than friends. It took me a long time to admit to myself that I had feelings for him, and when I did, he was just … taken from me in the worst possible way. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“It isn’t,” I said. “I know about your case. I seem to recall there were six of you at the cabin that night.”

“Yeah, and I was the only survivor. It feels awful, you know, that they died, and here I am, still living.”

“Your survival touched everyone in this town. When people found out you were alive, it was like a bright light shining through the darkness.”

“I’ve always worried the man who attacked me would come back for me one day. I’ve spent the last two decades looking over my shoulder, and I’m tired of it. I’m so tired. It isn’t any way to live.”

“No, it isn’t,” I said. “I’ll find the bastard, and together, we’ll make sure he pays for what he did.”