Cover Me - By Catherine Mann Page 0,70
spun around, he was staring at the floor as if to give her privacy. God, how cold this felt, so different from what they could have had. Except if she had been up-front with him from the start they would have never even been here in the first place.
She sat on the edge of the bed. “What happens next?”
With her brother.
Between them.
“You need to face the possibility that someone in your community may be tangled up in this, that someone has a very compelling reason for wanting to keep the place anonymous.”
His not-so-subtle hint sunk in.
“You think my brother killed all those people?” Horror almost made her vomit. “No! No, I would know. He’s not capable of that.”
He held up a pacifying hand. “Okay, I understand that isn’t something you can consider. But you need to accept that it’s possible—quite probable in fact—that someone inside your community is tied to this. Letting them know you’ve discovered the bodies, that you’re on your way, could have alerted them.”
His words made sense… blood chilling sense. “But I already sent that email.”
“Telling them everything?”
“I explained about Ted and Madison. I warned that there could be others, and the investigation could sweep up there.” She struggled to remember exactly how she’d worded her note. “I tried not to give too many details because I didn’t want to freak out the families who had lost people, not to mention those who might think someone had died when they weren’t on the list. And the OSI said not to give out all the names.”
Her explanation sounded so damn lame now. She felt like a dog paddling in a frozen pond.
“You said the bodies found didn’t account for everyone who’d left. Either we just haven’t found them in the ice yet, or some did make it away.” He thumbed between his eyes as if pushing back a headache. “Which makes me wonder, why kill those particular people? Was it simply a matter of impulse? Or targeting the weak? What do you know about the others?”
“I gave a list to the OSI of the other names and even though I didn’t know them as well as the ones we…” She scooped the quilt off the floor, even knowing her chill went deeper than any blanket could help. “The ones we lost, I’m praying they’re all still alive.”
His hand fell away from his head, his brown eyes alert. “You didn’t know them as well?”
“They were new to the community over the past couple of years.”
“And the others?”
She thought through the names, those nightmarish dead faces, and realized… “They were long-term residents, people we were surprised opted to go. But they kept in touch by email for a little while. God, why didn’t I think about the emails before? Someone is tampering with the email, pretending to be those murdered people.”
“Could have been sent by someone who did leave, if that person was a part of some plan. But why?”
Hell if she knew. “Some nut job infiltrated our group to destroy the group?”
“You’re quite the conspiracy theorist.”
“Actually that would be Ryker Everett.”
“Who’s he?” Wade said a little too quickly.
And yeah, she enjoyed the hint of jealousy in his voice, especially after the sting of him staying in the rocking chair. “Twin brother of my sister’s boyfriend. Or rather her ex-boyfriend.” She thought about Ryker further and decided… “He’s married to an art teacher in the community, Lindsay. They have a baby on the way.” Lindsay even helped at the gym with aerobics.
Living in that small village had made her feel so connected to the people around her. What once felt close, comforting, now seemed tangled, choking… So damn scary.
She forced herself to keep talking, making public things about people who valued their privacy above all else. “Ryker’s been a part of the group since he was a kid. His father’s even one of the community’s founding members.”
He studied her solemnly. “You know I’m going to have to share the things you told me with the OSI.”
He’d brought his cell phone in his survival gear. How could she keep forgetting that? Probably because she wasn’t used to having one around all the time, as he was.
While she couldn’t bring herself to give him a big thumbs-up to share details about people she’d trusted for years, she also knew she couldn’t ask him to stay silent. Rights and wrongs were sometimes very clear-cut. And at the moment, the most important thing was keeping people alive.
Hugging her knees, she rested her forehead on