A Deadly Reunion (4 page)

I narrowed my eyes.

That line sounded familiar.

“I imagine you would advise people to stop
living in their memories and start living in the real world
instead,” he continued.

Though I’d picked up a healthy pace as I
stalked across the lawn, Denver matched it easily.

He was like a bad dream I couldn’t shake
off. Which was highly ironic considering he had been my perfect
dream all through high school. When I’d imagined Denver Scott, I’d
conjured up pictures of oiled muscles and sultry glances, not a
constantly questioning fly in a suit buzzing by my ear.

“Hold on...” I slowed down. A tight breath
caught my chest, and my shawl slipped a bit, revealing my stylish
neckline.

Denver dropped his gaze for a second, and
then looked back at me pointedly. “I’ve read your books. Okay, no,
I read excerpts of them off the Net.”

“What?”

“You’re Lara Scott, right? Famous self-help
author? You live in D.C. with two dogs and a goldfish?”

“H-how the hell do you know that? I write
under a pen name—”

“I’m a Federal Agent,” he answered with a
completely even expression.

“
Wait... what? You used some fancy
Government database to look me up? Did you hack into my tax
files?”

He kept that perfectly blank look on his
face for a few more seconds, and then broke into a full grin.
Laughing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hacked into your
tax files? I’m not in the movies. No, I just used my questioning
skills to ask Annabelle, and then I looked you up on my phone.”

My mouth dropped open and it stayed there
until I forced myself to give a proper cough. “Well—”

“Yeah?”

Christ, I didn’t remember Denver being this
annoying in high school. Either I’d been oblivious – which was
entirely possible – or the guy had changed, big time.

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell
him off for looking me up, but I figured that would just elicit yet
more questions from him. Instead, I turned, shook my head, and
marched off towards the front of the school.

There was a lovely, large rose garden just
before the front door. It was the only feature of Wetlake High that
I liked. Many a walk home from school had started with taking the
time to sniff the roses.

Well, now a strange, tangy scent was filling
the air instead.

It smelt a little like expensive cologne
mixed with a sharp, chemical smell.

“Is there any reason you’re following me?” I
challenged Denver as we headed straight for the school doors.

“Yep. I’m trying to avoid the rest of the
people at this party. I never really wanted to come; my mother
forced me to. I personally can’t think of anything worse than going
back to high school.”

I slowed down. Despite the fact I still
wanted to be irritated at the guy, I flicked my gaze over to
him.

He didn’t look like he was lying.

“What? You think I’m joking? You think
you’re the only one who wanted to get away from this place?”

“Hold on, everybody loved you in high
school. You were the most popular guy, you got great marks, and
everyone was dead sure you would go on to become an astronaut, then
the president, and then emperor of the universe.”

He snorted, and he sounded mildly pissed. “I
don’t want to be an astronaut, and I could think of nothing worse
than going into politics. As for emperor of the universe, I’m sure
it pays better than working for the Government, but I bet the
dental plan is lousy.”

I now came to a full stop. I was standing
near the rose bushes, and though the front doors to the school were
just behind me, I no longer made a dash for them.

Denver had caught my attention.

“You look surprised, Patti Smith. You want
to know a secret? I hated high school, and I hate being back here.
You may be fine with people bringing up your moment at the football
game, but I loathe hearing stories about my past. I felt like
punching the last guy that reminded me of my stupid antics,
conquests, and awards. I was a shit in high school. I’m not proud
of the girl’s I jilted and the stories I spread. I have moved on
though, so why the hell can’t everyone else?”

I pressed my lips together, and I calmed the
hell down.

Denver was not acting. He clearly hated
being here far more than I did. While my life had been only on the
up since high school, no matter what Denver had achieved, it
couldn’t measure up to the heights that had been imagined for
him.

“You want to walk around the back of the
school, and then surreptitiously make our way to the car park?”

“Ah—”

Before he could ask whether I was
propositioning him, I tutted. “Calm down. I wasn’t going to suggest
we have a quick snog behind the gym. I figure we can leave, and
then maybe I can buy you a coffee and offer you some advice about
moving on; I do write self-help books, after all.”

He let out a snort. Thankfully, it seemed to
lift his soured expression. “You know, Patti, you’re kind of
arrogant.”

“Oh no, confident. Plus, you’re really pushy
and kind of a jerk. So I figure we’re even.”

He snorted again.

I waved him on as I took a step forward.

As I took another step, something stuck to
my heel.

I was standing on the gravel that surrounded
the rose bushes.

I looked down and lifted my heel.

Red.

Raising my chin, I saw a trail of it leading
up to the rose bush.

“What the—” I began.

Then I screamed.

Loudly.

I also jerked backwards, as if I’d been
shot.

There was a body, covered in blood, thrown
under the rose bushes.

I kept stumbling backwards until my heel
snagged on the gravel, my knee twisted in, and I fell back.

I didn’t hit the ground.

Denver wrapped his arms around me and
propped me up. “Patti? What the hell’s wrong?”

My whole body felt cold as blood drained
from my face and limbs. I was shaking and my mouth was achingly
dry.

I couldn’t move my eyes; I couldn’t even
blink. My gaze was fixed on the rose bushes and the bloody body
within. I could see torn pants, a blood-soaked shirt, and two shoes
covered in mud.

“Patti?” Denver demanded again.

“
Th-there’s... there’s a dead body in the
roses.”

“
What...? Fuck,” Denver jerked away from me
and took several rushed steps forward. Without hesitation, he
dropped to his knee and angled his head forward. I watched it bob
out of view behind the leaves as he surveyed the corpse. “Oh god,”
he said in a whisper.

Everything was happening so fast. My heart
was in my throat, and my hands were slicked with sweat.

“Go and get my brother,” Denver jumped up
and took several steps back, only turning from the body at the last
moment. “He’s a local police officer. Patti?”

I was staring at the body. I couldn’t shift
back, and god knows I couldn’t close my eyes.

I heard Denver pull out his phone, and
listened as he called the police. Then he walked up to me and
pulled me back with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

After that, all hell broke loose.

People came to check out the scream they’d
heard, and pretty soon Denver was holding back a line of gawking
onlookers.

At some point, Denver sat me down on the
steps of the school, furled his jacket around my shoulders, and
told me to stay put.

The police arrived, and I remember the sound
of the sirens as though they had been burnt into my brain.

The rest of the day was a complete blur.
Eventually I was taken to the local police station to give my
statement. At many points I was handed cups of tea. Yet finally I
was allowed to go home.

That night I had the longest shower ever. I
stood there, under the rushing water, feeling the droplets banging
against my shoulders, face, and neck. I stared through my sopping
hair at the white shower curtain, tracing random shapes through the
steam playing up its surface.

Once I was out I didn’t even bother drying
my hair; I simply flopped down on my bed. With wide-open eyes, I
stared up at the ceiling and tried to come to terms with what had
just happened.

I had overcome a lot in my life, and I had
achieved far more.

This was different.

For the love of god, there had been a dead
body in the rose bushes.

With that haunting thought chasing through
my mind, I closed my eyes, and somewhere around midnight, I fell
into a restless sleep.

I woke up to a persistent knock at the door.
Feeling exceedingly sleepy and perfectly irritable, I flopped a
hand over my face and whispered for them to go away. When they
didn’t, I chucked the covers off the bed and stamped over to the
door.

“Yes?” I snapped.

I had no idea who would be knocking on my
door at this time in the morning, but I figured it couldn’t be the
police. I assumed that at least they would announce themselves;
whoever was knocking mercilessly on my door hadn’t yet said a
word.

“Yes?” I snapped again, leaning over and
undoing the lock before yanking the door open.

I expected to face management, or maybe some
brash kid out for kicks, trying to stop disturbed women from
getting their beauty sleep.

I saw nothing.

Nothing.

There was nobody there.

At first confusion swelled and broke against
me like a powerful wave over the shore.

Had I just imagined that knock?

Had the murder yesterday affected me so much
that I was now hallucinating?

Before I became totally scared at the state
of my own mind, I looked down.

There was something just in front of my
doorstep.

Something blue and shiny.

I’d seen it before.

It was a pin.

Sinking my teeth hard into my bottom lip, I
placed my hands on my knees and gently lowered myself down. With a
hesitant move, I plucked the pin up and twirled it around in my
fingers.

Was it the same pin I had seen outside the
back of the motel yesterday? Or was this just... a
coincidence?

I had no idea what to think, and considering
the current state of my mind, every thought centered on murder,
depravity, and danger.

A sudden sweat racing across my brow, I
jerked up a little too quickly, tucking the pin nervously into my
hand.

Before I could turn and rush back to bed and
hide under the covers, I heard someone clear their throat.

I snapped my head around quickly.

It took me a moment, but I saw Denver
walking cautiously across the car park towards me.

“What are you doing?” he asked, without so
much as a hello.

Though I’d only become reacquainted with
Denver Scott in the past twenty-four hours, I was starting to
realize this man did not have any time for pleasantries. Working as
an agent for the FBI had obviously sapped that right out of him.
Every breath he took was accompanied by a question or an
accusation. Rumbling through his tone right now were both.

I stiffened defensively, the pin still
tucked away and hidden firmly by my palm and fingers.

Denver walked all the way up to me, casually
jumping the distance from the gravel of the car park to the
concrete step of the motel porch. When he reached my door, he gave
a low nod. While it wasn’t affable, it certainly wasn’t as
determined and cold as most of his other movements were. “Are you
okay?”

I gave a heavy swallow, shrugged my
shoulders, and let my gaze drift towards the floor.

Okay?

Were you meant to be okay after you had seen
a murder?

That guy had been mangled in the bushes.
Though I hadn’t seen the body up close, I had seen the blood. I’d
stepped in it.

I wasn’t okay, that was the short answer;
the long answer was that I had no idea when or if I would be okay
again.

Maybe I let my complex, horrid emotions play
across my face, because Denver softened his expression once
again.

He stared at his feet, and then glanced my
way. “James Wood.”

I looked up at him. What was that meant to
mean? Had he already forgotten my name?

Before I could ask him, he let out a tense
breath through his clenched teeth. “That was the name of the
man...” he couldn’t look at me.

In the rose bushes.

God, he didn’t have to finish off his
sentence; in that moment, a cold, dreadful sweat broke across my
entire back, and my whole body gave the most violent of
shudders.

That memory was still so vivid and fresh; it
felt as if someone had carved it into my very heart. Though that
sounded corny, it was the truth. I’d never experienced something so
inescapable before.

I found myself nodding, entirely too
quickly, and for entirely too long.

Denver gave another harsh swallow. He
brought his hand up and began by rubbing the bridge of his nose,
and then he sighed heavily and flopped it across his hair, tracing
it over the back of his head before letting it drop to his side.
“It was in the paper this morning.”

I nodded again. Then I stopped nodding. I
narrowed my eyes sharply.

James Wood. I knew that name.

It hit me in a rush. He’d been in my English
class and my history class too. A fairly garrulous kid, he’d always
been getting into trouble. He’d never done anything too dumb,
though. While he had been a bit of an idiot, he’d been a relatively
harmless one.

He would have stepped on a few toes, and god
knows he would have broken a few hearts, but that was all in the
past.

Now he was dead.

“According to the article in the paper, the
investigation is still ongoing,” Denver continued, glancing over my
shoulder at my open door.

“
Wouldn’t you know that anyway? Aren’t
you... doing the investigation?”