From the Shadows (Buckhorn, Montana #2) - B.J. Daniels Page 0,17

than this proposed reunion. What possible purpose would anyone have to go to such a thing?

But as he’d held the card over the trash can, he’d seen the line about only the killer not attending—as though blackmail would change the murderer’s mind.

Maybe the old Ben, as he’d been called back then, would have fallen for that. The geeky teenager with the thick glasses, pimples and skinny limbs. That Ben was gone. Benjamin had spent the past ten years remaking himself, from his body to his place in the world.

He was a prominent scientist, leading in his field of communicable diseases. He’d even been called on during the pandemic. He was currently working on a book when he wasn’t being asked to speak around the world on the subject.

If anything, he had Megan to thank for his career choice. They said the best revenge was success. Too bad she wasn’t here to see what he’d become—someone who was no longer invisible to people like her.

That old familiar bitter taste had risen up his throat to choke him. He’d swallowed it down, pretending that he’d left behind the bitterness, the anger, the pain of the cruelty she’d inflicted upon him.

He’d looked again at the invitation, wanting to rip it to shreds for even reminding him of that summer. Except he didn’t want to let it go. He wanted to show the others how he’d changed, to erase the memory of that summer, to finally put Megan and her ghost long behind him.

He could do that for one weekend, he told himself. He would do that.

* * *

“HOW’S YOUR SALAD?” Finn asked, dragging Casey out of her thoughts. As much as she’d adored Anna and missed her dearly, she hadn’t come back here to find Megan Broadhurst’s killer. Especially since Finn had spent months here thinking he could solve it but had no leads. No, she was only here to have the hotel razed and the land sold, pick up a few things to remember her grandmother by and be gone.

“Not as good as your chicken-fried steak,” she answered. But she wanted to hear more about why he was in town. “So you knew Megan and about the Crenshaw and the murder. But it doesn’t explain why you got an invitation. Or how the person who planned this macabre reunion knew to send you one.” She frowned. “You must have gotten the invitation right after you sold your company. Right before you disappeared.”

He nodded. “I have no idea why I got it or who sent it.”

“But I can tell you’re curious,” she said, wondering what he wasn’t telling her. There had to be more motivation or she couldn’t believe that he would have been invited. “Surely she knew other people? Unless they, too, were invited.” She groaned at the thought. Maybe it wasn’t just the staff from that summer.

He merely shrugged.

She pushed away what was left of her salad and studied her dining companion. His involvement worried her, just as it bothered her that he seemed to know so much about her grandmother—and her.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Finn said. He was more perceptive than she’d thought. Or she wasn’t as good at hiding her feelings as she believed. “I was more curious to see how the girl your grandmother described had grown up. Anna was very proud of you.”

His words brought tears to her eyes. She quickly looked away and changed the subject. “Are you serious about making an offer on the hotel and land?” Another offer definitely would help get Devlin Wright to quit stalling. She needed this over, even sooner now, with the reunion—and now Finn. She didn’t know what to make of him. She hoped to be long gone before she figured it out.

“I am serious. When are you supposed to talk to Devlin Wright?”

“In the morning.” She realized that he might have planned their meeting to coincide with the reunion, because as a former member of the staff from that summer, he would have gotten an invite.

“I’ll have you an offer by morning as well. We should exchange numbers.”

She typed his phone number into her contacts and studied him, amazed how this was happening. It seemed...too easy. He met her gaze and held it until she had to look away first.

By the time they walked back to the hotel, the sun had set, leaving Montana’s big sky a rainbow of colors over the mountains to the west. A cool breeze stirred the pines and lifted her