Chapter 33

THIRTY-THREE

Josie’s knuckles blanched as she gripped the steering wheel. The drive through the campus of Denton University wasn’t exactly fraught with difficulty, but her mind was still on the Cleo Tate and Stella Townsend murders. The Polaroid Killings, Turner had called them before she and Noah left for the day. She just hoped the press didn’t get wind of the photos—or the name. It would put them into even more of a frenzy than they were already.

“Are you even listening to me?” Trinity’s voice broke through Josie’s thoughts.

Glancing over at the passenger’s seat, Josie saw her sister’s perfectly plucked brows knit in annoyance.

“I knew it,” Trinity said. “I can tell when you’re not listening. Josie, I know how dedicated you are to your work, but you need to be able to shut it out and be present sometimes.”

“I know,” Josie mumbled even as her brain went right back to the last photo. She had spent the time left on her shift puzzling over it to no avail.

“Really, Josie,” said Trinity. “Being present is a skill, like anything else. You have to work on it.”

“I know, I know,” Josie replied. Turner was convinced that she could figure it out but his supposed confidence in her felt more like pressure. He’d hovered until she snapped at him to give her some space.

Turner.

Josie had been so fixated on the case that she’d been with Trinity all afternoon and hadn’t asked her the question that had been burning a hole in her brain since the night Turner brought Amber to her house.

“Trin,” she said. “How do you know Kyle Turner?”

“This is you being present? Josie, really.”

“I’m not asking because of work. I’m asking because I’m curious. You’re on a first-name basis with him.”

Trinity looked out the window as they passed the university library. “He solved that escort case. Did you know that?”

“Yeah,” Josie said. “Gretchen looked him up when he started. I’ve read the articles. He got a lot of press for solving that case.”

Trinity nodded, eyes still fixed on the campus buildings rolling slowly by. “Yes. National coverage. I had returned to the morning show by that time, and he was a guest. A bunch of cold cases? A serial killer? A determined detective? It was gold. I interviewed him live and then afterward we went to lunch. Whenever he was in town after that, which wasn’t that often, we would get together.”

Josie’s stomach roiled. “Oh God. You had a thing, didn’t you?”

“No,” Trinity said firmly. “We did not have a ‘thing,’ although I certainly thought about it.”

Her last cup of coffee threatened to come back up. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Trinity flipped down the sun visor and checked her makeup in the mirror. “That’s the thing, Josie. The Kyle I knew was nothing like the douchebag you’ve been complaining about for the last year.”

“Did you spend more than five minutes at a time with him when you got together?” Josie asked pointedly.

Trinity laughed. “Yes, we spent a lot of time together. There were other cold cases he was looking into, and given my reporting background and everything we’d just uncovered here, he thought my input was valuable.”

“I don’t understand,” said Josie.

Her sister was many things, but attracted to douchebags was not one of them. She had always been intensely focused on her career. Dating was lowest on her list of priorities. Turner had to have made a good impression if Trinity had even considered becoming romantically involved with him.

There was that coffee trying to come back up again. It wasn’t that Turner was repulsive. He was fairly handsome, though a bit older than Josie and Trinity, but his personality made him completely unattractive.

“You’re telling me that the man I’ve described to you from working with Turner for more than a year doesn’t at all sound like the Kyle Turner you knew?” Josie asked, even though Trinity had already answered her. “He never even called you ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart?’ Or got your name wrong? Or said something so sexist that it made you want to stomp on his kneecap?”

“None of those things.” Trinity shrugged. “He was…normal.”

“He was definitely faking it,” said Josie.

“I don’t think that he was.”

“If he wanted to get into your pants, he would fake it.”

“He didn’t try to get into my pants,” Trinity scoffed. “I’m telling you, he was normal.”

Josie wasn’t convinced, although if Trinity was right, then what had happened to Kyle Turner in the last seven years to turn him into someone completely different? What would make a man go from “normal” and worthy of her sister’s attention to a raging asshole?

Josie didn’t have time to press the issue further. Trinity gasped when the university’s new Butterfly Garden came into view. Josie could see by her awed expression that she was impressed. Josie mentally put a check in the win column for Drake. The building was tremendous. Above its tall, arched windows, colorful butterfly murals had been painted on the sandstone-colored concrete walls. Flowerbeds ran the length of the front of the building, teeming with colorful blooms. A bright blue portico shaded the main entrance. Perhaps the most impressive sight, though, was the glass pyramid that rose from the center of its roof, spearing into the sky.

“This place is gorgeous,” Trinity said as Josie parked in front of the atrium. She counted vehicles belonging to Noah, Shannon and Christian, and Patrick. Josie knew that Drake was parked nearby where Trinity would not see his car. Everyone was there, as planned. Check two in the win column for Drake. He’d managed to get all of them assembled at once, despite their ridiculous schedules and the fact that they were scattered across two states.

Trinity had no idea what was about to happen. She knew there was going to be a proposal, but she had no idea it was going to be hers. With a sigh, she said, “Don’t you think Patrick is too young to get married? I mean, I know he’s been with Brenna for a while, and they’re both college grads with good jobs now, but this seems too soon, doesn’t it?”

Josie stepped out of the car and met Trinity near the passenger’s side. “Well, when you know, you know, right?”

“I guess.” Trinity smoothed her sundress down over her hips. Josie had gone to great lengths to manipulate her into wearing something that she knew Trinity would be happy with in photos later. Given that Josie was on the opposite end of the glamour spectrum from her sister, it had been more exhausting than interrogating a murder suspect. In return, Trinity had chosen Josie’s dress for the occasion and insisted on doing her makeup as well. Glancing back at the vehicle, Josie caught sight of her reflection in the window. She hardly recognized herself. Trinity had transformed her from a sweaty, frizzy-haired police officer in a rumpled polo and khakis into something luminous. Her hair was actually silky for once, and she liked the way her own simple blue dress swished around her thighs when she moved. It was perfect for the heat.

“Ready?” asked Josie.

“Just a sec.” Trinity fished her phone out of her purse. “Drake’s not here yet. I’ll just text him.”

Trinity fired off a text and then waited for a response, lips pursed as she stared at the screen. Josie heard the ding of a notification. Then another. “He’ll be here in a few minutes,” Trinity mumbled. “He said to go inside and he’ll find us.”

“Okay,” said Josie. “Let’s go.”

Trinity’s index finger swiped along the phone screen. “Holy shit!” she gasped.