Nothing about this case made sense. Not the dead teenager who refused to tell Ten who killed her. Not the two murdered friends. Not the death letter, which wasn’t very much of a confession after all.
“Are you still eating worms or is there a spot by the tree for me?” Ten asked from the midpoint of the stairs.
“I’m not eating worms,” Ronan grumped. He was so totally eating worms. He couldn’t help snorting.
“Ha! Finally, a smile!” Ten sat next to Ronan and rested his head on his shoulder.
“Today sucked, Ten,” Ronan half-whispered.
“Yes, it did, but tonight isn’t going to follow suit.” Ten picked up his head and pointed to the coffee table where his laptop sat with the lid closed.
“What’s your plan?” Ronan couldn’t help but be intrigued by his husband. Maybe he’d want to watch a little three-way action on PornHub.
“We’re not watching porn, Ronan.” Ten rolled his eyes. “I was thinking we’d order everything on Everly’s wish list and figure out what the hell to buy everyone else.”
“Everything on her list?” Ronan started to laugh. “This is her second Christmas, Ten, we don’t have to outdo ourselves every year.”
Ten gasped. A hand fluttered dramatically to his heart. “Who are you and what the hell have you done with my husband? You’re always the one insisting that we go overboard for Everly.”
Ten had a point, and Ronan knew it. Ronan sighed. “I thought this case would be an easy slam dunk.”
“We all did, Ronan. Me. Kevin. Jude. Obviously, there was a reason the case went cold almost immediately and stayed cold for thirty-five years.”
“Lisa never returned any of the messages I sent her.” Why would she? Not unless she had a death wish.
“After the deaths of two of her high school friends, can you blame her? I wouldn’t call you back either.” Ten gave Ronan’s hand a squeeze. “Do we go back to Kyle Danner, or to the siblings?”
Ronan sank his head into his hands. “I have no fucking idea where to go next with this case. Did you reach out to Skye Washington?”
Ten shook his head. “I’ve done nothing but reach out to her ever since we left Reagan’s office. Was it just me or did he seem just as bewildered by this whole thing as we were?”
“The thing about attorney-client privilege is that it ends when the client dies. Reagan was free to tell us anything and everything he knew about Heidi and the Skye Washington case. He knows we’ve been assigned to solve it. If he knew anything else, he would have told us.” Ronan turned to Ten. “Did you get the impression he wasn’t telling us all he knew?”
“No, nothing like that. He was angry that Heidi hadn’t confided in him. There were things he could have done to help her through this.”
“I bet there were. He was sure the hell willing to throw the kitchen sink at my little problem. Did he give any indication of how he thought he could have helped her?”
“No.” Ten sighed. “Since he didn’t know what she was hiding or why, he didn’t know exactly how he could have helped her. Reagan’s got a soft spot in his heart for Heidi. She was his first client. One who followed him to his own firm when he opened it. You don’t see a whole lot of that kind of loyalty these days.”
“Like between the four friends.” Ronan shook his head. “Here’s where I’m stuck. Are the friends dying because they were the ones who killed Skye, or because they know who did? Fuck, it’s possible they’re all one and the same, right?” Ronan had never come up against a case like this before, with or without Tennyson.
“It’s possible one of the friends killed her and they made a pact to never tell.” Ten shrugged. “It’s also possible that Kyle Danner killed her and somehow the friends found out about it.”
“It was a bloody crime. Whoever killed Skye would have needed some help cleaning up. Not only themselves, but also the car the killer came in.”
“Maybe not,” Ten said. “It’s a case of not knowing what you know.”
Ronan shot Ten the stink eye. “Christ, Ten, I’m confused enough as it is. Don’t add to it with word games.”
Ten snorted. “You’re a cop, so you think like a cop. Or rather, like a criminal would do if they were trying to hide what they’d done.”
“Yeah, I’m with you so far.”
“Imagine a fifteen-year-old girl killing another. You’ve got raging emotions, hormones, and fear