“Any news on Grimly?”
“Yeah.” Sam brushed stray hairs back from her face. “They think he was drugged. Maybe poisoned.” Tears welled again, and she closed her eyes quickly. Dammit. She was stressing out about her dog when she should be crying for Margaret. “There’s some kind of internal bleeding . . . ”
“Come here.” Will’s arms enveloped her, pulling her tight against his chest. She didn’t fight the embrace. Didn’t have the strength. Didn’t want to. His familiar scent washed over her, reminding her of her youth, of her brother, of a time that was so much easier.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, gently rubbing his hand down her back.
She wasn’t sure she was, though. And she didn’t know what to do to feel okay.
“I’m fine, Will.” Pushing out of his arms, she brushed the hair back from her face again. “What can you tell me?”
“Not a lot, I’m afraid. Investigative team is working the scene now. They’ll probably be at it through the night. You can’t stay there tonight, Sam.”
She nodded and looked down at the floor. Wasn’t sure how she’d ever be able to set foot in that room again.
“I don’t think she died at your house. Crime scene’s too clean. I’m not sure if that helps or not.”
Died. Dead. Murdered. She couldn’t believe he was talking about Margaret. Her stomach pitched again. “Am I a suspect?”
“You’re a person of interest.” When her gaze lifted, he added, “But I’m pretty sure you’ll be cleared of that soon. Coroner estimated time of death to be between 5:00 and 8:00 p.m. Several people corroborated your story that you were at the gym on a treadmill, then getting dinner at McNulty’s Pub during that time.”
She had been. Working out in a stupid attempt to run away from her incessant thoughts about Ethan and what she was going to do about him. Them. This crazy relationship. Then getting dinner and working on her laptop at the pub because she didn’t want to go home alone.
“We’ll know more once we get the autopsy report back and finish combing your house.” Will shifted his feet. “I need you to think back to any conversations you had recently with Maggie. Any people you can recall who might have had issues with the both of you.”
Sam’s mind spun with a new host of questions. If Margaret hadn’t been killed in her house, then that meant that someone had broken in and placed her there on purpose. “You think this is a warning?”
“Possibly.”
A warning for what? Who could hate her so much they’d try to frame her for murder?
Sam dropped her face in her hands and tried like hell not to lose it in front of Will.
Gripping her shoulders, Will kneaded the tight muscles. “I don’t want you to worry. Hidden Falls is a small town. We’ll get to the bottom of this. You and I both know Maggie wasn’t the most well-liked person around.”
She lowered her hands. “But you think whomever did this might have it in for me too.”
“I didn’t say that. But . . . maybe . . . ”
“Maybe what?”
Will sighed. “Maybe you should think about going back to California now rather than later. You’ve had nothing but trouble here lately. The vandalism at your house, the break-in at the school, finding that body up in the woods, and now this? I’m not trying to scare you, but one of those is a lot for anyone to handle. All four? It’s too much. As much as I like having you back in town, I want you safe more than I want you close. Someone—for some reason—has his sights set on you. The best thing you can do is distance yourself from this place and everyone in it, especially the new people in town, until we figure out what’s going on.”
The new people in town. He didn’t say Ethan’s name, but she knew Will was thinking about him. A whisper of panic rushed down Sam’s spine. Ethan was definitely new in town, and strange things had been happening since he’d shown up. And she couldn’t deny that she’d picked up odd vibes from him on more than one occasion, especially when he looked at certain people in Hidden Falls as if he knew them. But he couldn’t be linked to any of this, could he?
No. She swallowed hard. He couldn’t be. The way he’d comforted her after her nightmare . . . there was no way someone as gentle as that could be as brutal as the person who’d killed Margaret.
“Look, Sam.” Will squeezed her shoulders again. “You’re not doing any good sitting in this waiting room. Dr. Watson will call you if Grimly’s condition changes. Why don’t you stay at my place tonight?”
Stay at his place? She couldn’t stay with anyone. Not tonight. Not when she knew the nightmares would strike again. After what she’d found today, there was no way she’d have a peaceful night’s sleep. And she didn’t want Will, of all people, seeing that side of her.
“Thanks, but I already got a hotel room.”
“You sure? It’s no bother. I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”
She wasn’t sure she should be alone either, but Will wasn’t the man she craved, and as much as she wanted Ethan’s arms around her right now, she just couldn’t call him. She’d already decided things were happening too fast with him, that a relationship between them would never work. If she called him, he’d rush right over, and in her vulnerable state she’d take advantage of his comfort and they’d wind up in bed. She couldn’t sleep with him again. She couldn’t lean on him any more than she already had. If she did, it would just make things harder for both of them when she eventually went back to California for good.
“I’m sure, Will,” she managed. “I’m really tired. I’ll probably fall right to sleep. But thanks for the offer.”
His finger grazed her cheek. “I’d do anything for you, Sam. You know that.”
She did. She just wished that could be enough.
“Come on,” he said softly, dropping his hand. “I’ll give you a ride to the hotel.”
Seated on the couch in his living room, Ethan closed Thomas’s file, tugged off his glasses, and rubbed at his tired eyes.
He’d wanted to reread Thomas’s file after his meeting with the charming Mrs. Adler. Not for the first time, Ethan wondered how the kid had managed to make it to seventeen without landing in more trouble than he’d already found. Most kids, in his situation, would have been running with gangs and meth heads by the time they were twelve. Ethan still wasn’t convinced Thomas was as innocent as Samantha believed, but a small part of him wanted to give the kid the benefit of the doubt.
The phone on the couch beside him buzzed, and he glanced down at the screen. Relief bubbled through him when he saw Samantha’s number.
“Hey,” he said, lifting the phone to his ear. He hadn’t talked to her since last night. He’d called her earlier, but she hadn’t answered, and he hadn’t left a message because he didn’t want to push. If she was having second thoughts about their weekend, he didn’t want to give her any reason to run. Though it killed him—and he was dying to see her again—he knew she needed some space to put everything together in her head. “I was going to call you a little later. How was your day?”
“Hi, Ethan. It was fine. Long.”
Her voice sounded odd. Tight. Strained. Concern tugged at him. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know, you just sound . . . tired.”
“I am. I’ve been grading papers most of the night, and Grimly wasn’t feeling well so I had to take him to the vet.”
Oh man. He knew how much she loved that dog. He dropped his feet from the footstool and leaned forward to rest his elbow on his knee. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Sleeping now. He . . . he got into something he shouldn’t have.”
She was holding back. He heard it in her voice, felt it through the line. “Do you want me to come by?”
“No. I’m fine. It’s after nine already, and I’m about to go to bed.”
Three fines. A big red flag something was definitely not fine.
“I want to be there for you, Samantha. I co
uld—”
“I called to let you know that we’re doing testing tomorrow. Most of the school is, so if you’re planning to observe Thomas or meet with him or any of his teachers, you might want to wait a few days.”
His stomach clenched. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she repeated. Silence filled the line, then she added, “There’s something else. Something you should know before you come by the school.”
“What?”
“Margaret Wilcox is dead.”
Holy shit. Ethan pushed to his feet. No wonder she sounded so off. As much as Samantha disliked the woman, they taught at the same school and had grown up in the same small town. “What do you mean? What happened?”
“I don’t know exactly. Will thinks she was murdered, though. They don’t have any leads yet.”
Ethan raked a hand through his hair, still unable to believe the news. “Are you sure you’re okay alone? I could—”
“I’m fine, Ethan. Really. Look, I wanted to tell you that I had a great time over the weekend. I really did. And I enjoy spending time with you, but I just don’t think I’m in a place right now where it makes sense to start a relationship. I have too much going on, and . . . and I’m going back to California soon anyway. I don’t think this is the right time for us.”
Ethan’s chest drew tight as a drum. She was making excuses. What they’d shared over the weekend had scared her. And the news about Margaret clearly hadn’t helped. “I’m not asking for any kind of commitment from you, Samantha.”
“I know. I just . . . this is too much right now. Too much, too fast. I can’t deal with it. I’d rather we end things here before one of us gets hurt.”
Too late for that. She was breaking up with him. Or calling it quits. Or . . . hell, he didn’t even know what. One incredible weekend didn’t make a relationship, he knew that. But he’d hoped it had been the start of something amazing. Now he knew he’d been fooling himself.
“You’ve had a really long day, Samantha. This isn’t the time to—”
“This isn’t about Margaret, Ethan. I’ve been thinking about this since before we spent the weekend together.”
Ouch.
His hands grew sweaty, and he heard himself mutter, “Okay,” before he could think of something else to say. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
A hard, sharp ache took up space beneath his breastbone. It was crazy to feel this way so fast, but he couldn’t help it. And he knew if he stayed on the line much longer, he was going to make things worse, so it was time he signed off. “I’ll try not to bug you at school. Thanks for telling me about Margaret.”
“Ethan—”
“Good luck, Samantha.”
Ethan clicked “End” on his phone and stared across the room toward the burning fireplace. His chest hurt, more than he’d thought possible. If this was the kind of pain his brother Alec lived with on a daily basis, it was no wonder the man could be such an ass.
Shit. There was no way he was sleeping tonight. Turning away from the fire, he headed for the kitchen and the whiskey bottle with his name on it. Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight he planned to get shit-faced drunk. And maybe, in some small way, forget about Samantha Parker for good.
Sam felt like pure crap as the bell rang, indicating the end of third period. Her conversation with Ethan last night kept replaying in her head. She should have told him the specifics, where Margaret had been found and how, but she hadn’t been able to get the words out. If she’d said them, he’d have come right over, and she couldn’t let him do that. She was doing the right thing for both of them by calling it quits. Eventually he’d see that. She just hoped the pain near her heart would hurry up and agree.
The low din of conversation echoed through the classroom as students grabbed their books and shuffled toward the door. Sam waited until the last student left, until she heard the door click shut, then dropped her head onto her desk.
She should have taken David’s advice and called in sick. She shouldn’t be here today. Not after what she’d found yesterday. Not after the nightmare she’d had last night. Not after the one hour or so of sleep she’d finally gotten after crying over Grimly and Ethan and the mess that had become her life.
What she needed to do was march herself down to the office and tell David she was in no shape to teach today. The kids were all looking at her like she had a tumor growing out of the side of her head. Word had spread fast. Everyone on campus knew what had happened at her house.
But she couldn’t do that. The investigators had left her house late last night, and if she went there she’d just obsess until she made herself sick. So instead she was going to buck up and act like a mature adult.
Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen.
Coffee.
She lifted her head. Yes. Coffee would help.
Before she could change her mind, she pushed out of her chair and made her way through the corridor. Unable to stop herself, she paused when she reached Margaret’s open classroom door and glanced into the room. Henry Branson, Will’s father, stood near the chalkboard, waving his hands as he discussed something with the class, his silver hair glinting under the fluorescent lights.
Henry glanced in her direction and shot her a sad smile. He was a nice man, and he’d been a pretty good teacher before he’d retired ten years ago. A much better teacher than mayor. The fact that he and Will didn’t get along wasn’t her concern. She tried her best to smile back and looked over the class. The few students who had bothered to show up seemed as shell-shocked as he did.
Her mind skipped to Jeff. She needed to go see him. She could only imagine what he was going through today. Her stomach pitched again at the thought. She really shouldn’t be at school. This was a stupid idea.
She headed back down the hall, desperate for a caffeine rush. As she rounded the corner, she noticed the two police officers standing near the office door, legs shoulder width apart, hands on belts, eyes focused straight ahead.
Another officer stood just inside the office doors, reciting Miranda rights. Sam stepped to the side so she could see through the glass windows of the office. Her gaze skipped over Thomas, being handcuffed by another officer at his back.
“No . . . ” Sam rushed past the small crowd of students who’d gathered outside the lobby. David stood near the office door, one arm across his waist, one hand covering his mouth as he spoke quietly with a police officer. Annette held a phone to her ear. Thomas’s eyes were wide and scared.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked when she reached David’s side.
“Miss.” The officer David had been speaking with stepped in her way. “You need to stay back.”
Inside the office, a cop grasped Thomas’s arm and turned him toward the door.
“Wait.” Sam stepped toward them, but David pulled her back.
“Let them do their job, Sam,” he said in her ear.
“I didn’t do anything!” Thomas exclaimed. His eyes cut to Sam. “Ms. Parker. I didn’t do anything! Tell them!”
Sam’s pulse ticked up as she looked to David. “Tell me that isn’t what I think.”
“It’s not our concern. The investigators found evidence. Let them do their job.”
“What kind of evidence?”
Sam took a step after Thomas and the police, but David hauled her back again. “Sam. There’s nothing you can do for him. He was trouble before he even came here. The fact he’d go after Margaret just proves he was more trouble than any of us could have imagined.”
No. They couldn’t possibly think . . .
Thomas couldn’t have been the one to hurt Margaret. He wasn’t violent. He helped other students when they were lost in her labs. He was careful with her equipment and respectful when he spoke. He’d come to her rescue when Kenny had cornered her. A violent person didn’t do those things.
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s wrong. They’re wrong, David. They’re wrong.”
&
nbsp; “If they’re wrong, they’ll figure it out. Let it go, Sam. There’s nothing you can do.”
There was something she could do. She pulled her arm from David’s grip and rushed back down the hall.
“Sam, dammit,” David muttered. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” she called over her shoulder. “You were right. I shouldn’t be here today.”
She went right to her desk, unlocked the bottom drawer, and tugged her cell phone from her purse. Ethan picked up on the first ring, but before she got more than one word out, she realized it was his voice mail, not him.
She slung her purse strap over her shoulder and found her keys while she waited until she heard the beep.
“Ethan, it’s Sam. Thomas is in trouble. The cops just hauled him out of school. He needs you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ethan slammed the door of his BMW and jogged up the front steps of the Hidden Falls Police Department. Even though it was close to freezing outside, sweat slicked his skin, and a low vibration echoed through his bones.
Pushing the heavy glass door open, he stepped inside and scanned the lobby. A high counter opened to his right. Plastic chairs were pushed up against the wall to his left. A set of double wood doors locked off the squad room from the lobby, and a fan turned slow circles above.
“Can I help you?” A dark-haired woman in a blue officer’s uniform rested both hands on the high counter and raised one brow.
“Yeah.” Ethan fished his ID out of the pocket of his slacks as he stepped toward the counter. “I’m Dr. McClane. I’m here to see Thomas Adler. He was brought in earlier.”
The woman glanced down at the computer screen on her desk. “He’s being questioned. Have a seat, and I’ll find out what’s happening.”
Raking a hand through his hair as the officer left, Ethan turned to look over the empty room. He didn’t want to sit. Wasn’t sure he could. All he could do was hope whatever trouble the kid had gotten into had nothing to do with Margaret Wilcox.