“When was that?”
“About three years ago. She finished out the year, then moved home with her new hubby.”
Interesting.
“Kenneth Saunders,” Alec said, drawing Ethan’s attention once more. “Man, this guy was a piece of work. Thirty-three, married right out of high school, two kids ages twelve and ten. Looks like Washington County Sheriff’s Office was called out to his house numerous times for domestic disturbances.”
“Any arrests?”
“No. Wife refused to press charges each time.”
“Nice.” Ethan’s stomach rolled at the thought of Saunders alone with Samantha. “She’s better off without him.”
“Obviously. And I saved the best for last. William Branson. Thirty-four, son of Henry and Eileen Branson. Mother committed suicide when he was a teenager. Father was a teacher at Hidden Falls High. Elected town mayor, served ten years. Branson attended Oregon State Police Academy, worked as a lieutenant in Portland for several years. Moved back to Hidden Falls about three years ago when he was hired as chief of police.”
“Why’d he leave Portland?”
“Don’t know. Mayor of Hidden Falls hired him. Um, Lincoln Jenkins.”
“I met Jenkins at Kellogg’s party. Runs the paper here in town. I didn’t realize he was the mayor as well.”
“He chummy with Branson?”
“Not that I could tell. But everyone knows everyone in this town.”
“Curse of the small towns,” Alec muttered.
Ethan tapped his hand against his thigh. “The question is what happened three years ago to draw Branson back and to make Kellogg marry Wilcox.”
“Good question. When did Samantha move home?”
“Just a few months ago. Whatever caused them to shift back here had nothing to do with her.”
“You hope,” Alec said. Voices echoed on the other end of the line. “Hey, Ethan. I’m gonna put Hunt on. He’s got some info from the Washington County ME.”
“Okay.”
The phone crackled, and Hunt’s deep voice echoed across the line. “Got a headache yet?”
“I’ve had a headache since I first drove into this town.”
“That’s got to feel good. Okay, I just got off the phone with Jill Bradbury. She’s the Washington Co. ME. Your guy Branson? He told her not to rush the results of those remains you found up in the woods.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Not for remains that old. Odds of identification without family of some kind offering dental records is pretty slim.”
“Like a sister.”
“Yep, like a sister. Bradbury also passed on some info from the Wilcox autopsy. The woman wasn’t raped. ME found garrote marks around the neck, but there were no other signs of a struggle—no tissue under her fingernails, no other bruising, nothing. Body was completely clean—too clean, if you get my drift. She’d had sex before she died, but it looks like it was consensual. And judging from her dear husband’s statement, it wasn’t with him. He claims he was out of town the day she was killed. His staff is backing him up on that. This woman was a piece of work. She makes Alec’s ex look like June Cleaver.”
Ethan barely heard him. “Margaret would have fought back if someone had tried to kill her.”
“That’d be my guess. Any woman would. Unless she didn’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some people are into kinky shit,” Hunt said. “It’s called erotic asphyxiation. Heightened sexual awareness when the airway is—”
“Yeah. I’ve heard of it.” Ethan rubbed the nape of his neck. He didn’t need to imagine it to get the idea.
“I’m just saying, it could have been a sex session gone awry, or—”
“Or someone knew she was into that and took advantage of her. And by the time she figured out what was happening, it was too late. Shit,” Ethan muttered.
“Yep. That’d be my guess. If it had been an accident, and the boyfriend simply wanted to cover it up, he would have dumped the body. He wouldn’t have positioned it on your girlfriend’s dining room table. That was a clear warning, if you ask me.”
Ethan’s chest tightened. Samantha wasn’t his girlfriend. Not anymore. “Is the investigation still open?”
“No. Got word this morning that Branson closed the case. Report states he had enough evidence to prove Saunders killed her. Convenient, don’t you think? Guy’s dead now. Can’t argue.”
“Shit.”
“Kellogg’s holding a press conference about it tonight. He’ll probably compliment the chief of police on his swift action. This bodes well for both of them. Branson gets credit for protecting the residents of Hidden Falls, and Kellogg gets the sympathy of his constituents. His poll numbers have skyrocketed since his wife’s death.”
“They’re covering their tracks.” Sickness gathered low in Ethan’s stomach.
“Yeah. And doing it pretty damn well. Listen, I’m gonna dump all this with the Washington County Sheriff’s Office. Jack Simms owes me a favor, but most of what we’ve found is pretty circumstantial. There’s no hard evidence here to indicate Branson or Kellogg had anything to do with either the Hollings disappearance or the Wilcox murder.”
And that was just what they wanted. Ethan wished for another cigarette.
“My gut thinks differently, though,” Hunt added.
“Mine too.”
“Safest thing for you to do is get your girlfriend out of that town. If she knows anything about what happened to that Hollings woman, and these two yahoos find out, odds are pretty good she’ll be the next one to turn up missing.”
Ethan reached for the keys and turned on the ignition. “That’s where I’m headed.”
He just hoped he could convince Samantha to leave before it was too late.
“Dammit.” Sam pulled her car to the side of the road as steam billowed from the hood. Swiping her nose with her sleeve, she tried the starter again. It whirred once and puttered out.
She dropped her head against the steering wheel and drew a deep breath that did nothing to ease the hot sting behind her eyes. This was all she needed. The one time she wanted to run, she couldn’t.
It had to be a nightmare. None of this could be real.
Memories bombarded her. Running after Seth that night when he’d walked away from her on the path. Hearing voices through the woods and chasing after them, afraid whoever had hurt that woman in the cabin was going to try to hurt him. Coming over the ridge sweaty, tired, and sore. Then seeing him lying lifeless in the water below as another boy held him under.
That boy had been Ethan. Her chest squeezed tight. She’d never seen him up close in court. The judge had let her testify in private with him and a counselor. She’d told them about the horrible boy who’d drowned her brother. About the splashes and screams she’d heard. They’d shown her a picture lineup of multiple suspects roughly the same age, and she’d identified Ethan. But . . . the Ethan she knew could never have done such a thing. He’d said he was a troubled kid, but could someone change so drastically? Go from evil to good in only a matter of years? She wasn’t sure.
She closed her eyes tight. Focused on that memory. On the fight in the water. On Ethan holding Seth by the shirtfront. On the trees and shadows and voices echoing from the shore.
Her head came up, and she blinked several times. Others had been there. She’d never let herself focus on that part of the memory before. But now she was certain that Ethan hadn’t been at the falls alone.
I jumped in to help him.
His words ran back through her mind. Could he have been telling the truth? Her heart raced as she sniffled and swiped at the tears on her cheek. She thought she’d been sure, but if there had been others at the falls, it was possible they had hurt Seth, and, as Ethan had stated, that he’d arrived late and tried to save her brother. And if that were true, it meant . . .
“Oh God.” Horror swept through her, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
Her eyewit
ness testimony had been the evidence the court needed to send Ethan to that juvenile detention center. She was the reason he’d spent a year of his life in a prison for children. She’d altered the course of his life far worse than Seth’s death had altered hers.
Sickness gathered in her stomach. Sickness and a frantic need to know whom else had been at the falls that night.
Think, Samantha.
A sharp tap at her window made her jump. Sam twisted and peered up at Jeff’s worried face.
Pressing a hand against her heart, she rolled down the window. “Hey, Jeff. I didn’t see you drive up.”
“Everything okay?”
No. Everything was completely wrong. “My car died.”
“Pop the hood. Let’s have a look.”
She wasn’t really in the mood to play mechanic, but she was stranded out here and didn’t have another choice. She pulled the hood release, pushed the door open, and stepped out. Tugging her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, she followed Jeff toward the hood and took his suit jacket when he handed it to her.
He was dressed in slacks and a tie, as if he were headed somewhere important, and a new sense of guilt stabbed at her. “I’m sorry. You’re going to get all dirty.”
“It’s okay. I’d rather help a damsel in distress than meet with the press any day.”
“You have a press conference?”
“Yeah.” He checked hoses as he searched for the cause of her engine problems. “Will has some new info about Maggie’s case.”
Sam’s stomach dropped, and she clutched his jacket to her chest, unsure what to say. Yes, her life was in shambles, but it could be so much worse. “Oh.”
A crisp breeze blew across the highway, whistling through the woods on both sides. She glanced up and down the deserted road. She’d made it all of five miles out of town before her car had broken down. She hadn’t even known where she was headed; she’d just wanted to get away. And right now she felt like a complete idiot because she was freaking out about something that had happened almost twenty years ago, and here was Jeff, looking like a rock after just losing his wife.
Will Branson and Jeff Kellogg were at the falls the night Seth died . . .
Unease trickled through Sam. Could he have been there? What if Ethan were telling the truth?
“Looks like you ran out of coolant,” Jeff said. “Overheated and ruptured a hose.”
Suddenly, Sam just wanted to get back on the road. Alone. “Oh.”
He snapped the hood closed. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon in this thing. I’ll give you a ride into town, and you can call a tow. Don’t worry. It’s an easy fix.”
“I can just wait here for a tow. It’s no big deal.”
He frowned down at her, took her elbow, and turned her toward her car. “Don’t be silly. I’m not leaving you out here alone. Not after what happened to Maggie.”
Sam’s pulse picked up speed, and her hands grew sweaty. Margaret had been at the cabin the night Hollings had been killed. Sam had heard her voice and others. Could he have been one of them? And if that were true, could he have killed her? His own wife? “Really, Jeff. I don’t—”
He pulled her door open, grabbed her purse from the front seat and handed it to her, then maneuvered her around to the passenger door of his Lexus. “Stop arguing, Sam. I’m driving you home. End of story.”
Sam swallowed hard as he pushed her gently into the seat and closed the door. She didn’t want to make a scene. Didn’t want to do anything to let him know she was suspicious. The best thing she could do was sit quietly, let him take her home, then get as far from him as she could.
He rounded the hood, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine. “You okay?”
She stared out the side window as he made a U-turn and headed back toward Hidden Falls. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t. She was freaking the hell out. Was Jeff a murderer? Was Will?
His finger grazed her cheek. She jolted and glanced in his direction with wide eyes.
“Sorry. You had a little smudge of dirt there.”
Her heart pounded even harder. “Oh. Thanks.”
Her cell phone buzzed, making her jump. She fumbled inside her purse, grasped it with shaking fingers, and pulled it out. But in her haste, it slipped out of her hand and flew across the console to land on the floor at Jeff’s feet. “Sorry.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Jeff reached down for it. “Slippery little bugger.” He picked it up and glanced at the screen. “I’m sure—”
His foot shifted to the brake, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Sam shot forward and hit the dash, then bounced back. Groaning, she cursed herself for not latching her seat belt.
“Son of a bitch,” Jeff muttered at her side.
Dazed, Sam pulled herself back onto the seat. “Jeff, what the—”
“Stupid fucking son of a bitch.” He tossed her phone in her lap, then reached for his from the console, hit “Dial,” and held it to his ear. The car whipped quickly around on the street, and he punched on the gas. “Yeah, it’s me. I know I’m not supposed to call, but we have a major problem.”
Icy fingers of fear rushed down Sam’s spine. Hand shaking, she looked at her phone. A message from Ethan showed on the screen.
Ethan: If Branson or Kellogg discover you were at the cabin that night, they’ll come after you. Whatever you do, don’t go near them, and don’t tell them who I am. Just please, PLEASE go home and stay put until I get there. I would never hurt you, Samantha. All that matters is that you’re safe.
Ethan knocked on Samantha’s front door and waited. Grimly’s muffled barking sounded somewhere upstairs, but nothing else moved. Turning a slow circle, he looked out across the front yard. Her car wasn’t in the drive, but the fact she’d left Grimly at home meant she hadn’t gone far.
He checked his phone again. Still no response to his text. Tapping his hand against his leg, he tried to figure out where she could be. A friend’s house? Not likely. She wasn’t close to anyone as far as he knew. The more logical explanation was that she’d gone for a drive to blow off steam and work through everything he’d told her. He just hoped she’d read his text and wasn’t somewhere confiding in Branson or Kellogg.
Panic pushed at his chest again as he jogged down the porch steps and climbed into his car. Frustration, fear, and worry churned in his stomach as he stared at her house. He had two options. He could sit here and stress, or he could drive around and look for her.
He started the engine before he could change his mind and drove slowly through town, searching side streets for any sign of her car. When he turned onto Elm, his eyes locked on the Hidden Falls Library to his left. He pulled to the curb and looked up at the building.
He needed proof. Alec and Hunt hadn’t been able to get it for him. If he was ever going to convince Samantha she wasn’t safe in this town, he needed more than his word. He needed something concrete to show her.
He glanced at his phone again. Still no response. Indecision warred inside him. Branson and Kellogg didn’t know she’d remembered anything from the cabin. No one knew but him. She wasn’t in any immediate danger. He was letting fear and panic get the best of him when what he really needed to do was think. Twenty minutes wouldn’t change anything, and hopefully, by the time he was done, she’d already be home and he could present her with proof that would make her believe.
He climbed out of the car. A brunette with a ponytail and thick glasses sat at the information desk with her nose buried in a book when he walked in.
“Need somthin’?” she asked when he stopped in front of her.
“Yeah. Do you keep past copies of the Hidden Falls Herald?”
She frowned like he were the biggest idiot on the planet. “Of course we do.”
“Great. I’m looking for editions in a four-month span from this date.” He jotted the month and year on a scrap of paper on the counter and slid it across to her.
“That’s eighteen years ago.
”
“Yeah. It’s research. For a town project,” he added quickly.
She rolled her eyes, stuck a bookmark between the pages of her book, and shifted to the computer at her left. While she typed, he glanced at his phone to make sure it was still on.
Still nothing from Samantha.
The brunette picked up her book. “They’re in the microfiche room downstairs.” She pointed toward a small door without looking up. “Take the stairs.”
“Thanks.”
Ethan jogged down the steps and checked the time again. Fifteen minutes left. Thankfully, the woman manning the microfiche counter was more helpful than the one upstairs, and within minutes he had a stack of film ranging from January to May.
He settled into a seat at a viewer and put the first film on the slide. Spinning the knob, he scanned articles as quickly as he could, searching for anything related to Sandra Hollings.
Just when he was sure this was a dead end, he came across a small article on the third page of the February 21 edition.
Science Teacher Released from HFHS.
Like Hunt had told him, the article stated that due to teacher misconduct, the school board had released her from her contract. No legal action was being pursued from either party involved. No mention of any student or what the misconduct included.
Ethan sat back and frowned.
“Anything I can help you with, Dr. McClane?”
Ethan glanced up at the bald, middle-aged man standing just behind him, searching his memory for the connection he knew was there. “Jenkins, right?”
Lincoln Jenkins smiled. “Call me Linc. Everyone does.” He grasped the back of a chair, pulled it up next to Ethan, and sat. “I came in to pick up a few books I put on reserve, and Molly told me you were down here going through old fiche of my paper.”
Ethan ran a hand over the nape of his neck and looked toward the viewer. The tight-lipped Molly had suddenly become chatty. Nothing was secret in this town. Which meant there had to be info about Sandra Hollings somewhere. “Just doing a little research.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“How long have you run the paper?”