Chapter Two

Danielle Fine popped a No-Doz, swallowed it down with a warm, flat Coke, then opened up her underwear drawer and dug down on the right side for the sluttiest thing she could find.

Danielle thought about Martin. They had been dating for about six weeks now. And while they had both decided that they were going to take it slow, Danielle had lost her patience. She had decided she was going to throw herself at him tonight; stopping at second base every time they saw one another was making her feel like a stupid teenager who didn’t know what she was doing.

She knew what she was doing. And she was pretty sure Martin did, too. By the end of the night, she’d know for sure.

She ended up selecting a lacy black pair that barely covered the front and was practically nonexistent in the back. She thought about which bra to wear but decided on not wearing one at all. She and Martin weren’t exactly dress-up types and besides, she knew she was very much lacking in the chest; there was no expensive bra in the world that was going to be of much help. Besides…Martin had told her he liked how her boobs looked when their shapes were visible through a T-shirt.

They were meeting early, catching an early dinner so they could make the 6:30 movie in time. The mere fact that they were doing dinner and a movie rather than cheap drinks and a trip back to his house for a painful make-out session was a point in her favor. She wondered if Martin was the kind who liked to feel that he was being a gentleman.

Six weeks with the guy…you should already know that kind of shit, she thought as she slid on the panties.

She got dressed in front of the full-length mirror on her bedroom wall. She tried on a few shirts before deciding to play it chill. She settled for a black, slightly tight T-shirt and a very basic pair of jeans. She was not the sort of girl who owned a bunch of dresses or skirts. She normally put on the first thing she grabbed in the morning. She knew she’d been blessed with her mother’s good looks and, because she also managed to have immaculate skin, she usually went without much makeup, too. Her dyed black hair and intense brown eyes pulled the entire package together; in the blink of an eye she could make the transformation from innocent and sweet to aggressively sexy. It was one of the reasons she had never really cared about her small boobs.

With a quick look into the mirror, seeing the same figure, face, and T-shirt band logo that had all been there as a teen, Danielle was ready to head out to meet Martin. He was a greaseball of sorts, only not the kind that hung out in motor garages or racetracks. He’d toyed with amateur boxing at one point, or so he said. He had the body to make her believe it (another reason she was losing her patience) and currently worked as a freelance IT specialist. But, like her, he didn’t take life too seriously and enjoyed drinking a lot. So far, they seemed like a perfect match.

But still. Six weeks without sex. She felt a lot of pressure. What if he refused? What if he really wanted to keep taking it slow and she just couldn’t wait?

Sighing, she went to the fridge. To calm her nerves, she grabbed a Guinness from the fridge, popped the top, and took a swig. She realized she was putting alcohol on top of her No-Doz but shrugged it off. She’d certainly put her body through much worse.

Her phone rang. If he’s calling to cancel on me, I’ll kill him, she thought.

When she saw that it wasn’t his name on the display, she relaxed. Yet when she saw it was her sister, she slumped her shoulders. She knew she might as well answer it. If she didn’t Chloe would call her back fifteen minutes from now. Persistence was one of the few traits they had in common.

She answered the call, skipping hellos as she usually did. “Welcome back to Pinecrest,” she said, as monotone as possible. “You officially a resident again?”

“Depends on if you’re asking me or all of these unpacked boxes,” Chloe replied.

“When did you get in?” Danielle asked.

“This morning. We finally got everything out of the U-Haul and are trying to get through the boxes and figure out where everything needs to go.”

“Do you need some help?” Danielle asked.

The brief silence on the other end of the line suggested that Chloe had not been expecting this sort of generosity. Truth be told, Danielle had only asked because she knew Chloe would not take her up on it. Or, rather, Steven would not want Chloe to take her up on it.

“You know, I think we’re good right now. I wish I would have thought to call you when we were unpacking all of the damned boxes.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have offered then,” Danielle said with dry sarcasm.

“Anyway, listen. Do you remember Kathleen Saunders from high school?”

“Vaguely,” Danielle said, the name bringing to mind a bright and smiling teenaged face—the kind of face that always got a little too close when speaking.

“Turns out she lives in my neighborhood. Just two houses down. She came by a while ago and said hello. She also invited Steven and I to a block party this weekend.”

“Wow, one day in and you already sound domesticated as hell. You buy a minivan yet?”

There was another brief silence; Danielle figured Chloe was trying to decide if the comment was a venomous barb or just a joke. “Not yet,” she finally answered. “Need the babies first. But about that block party…I think you should come. Kathleen was asking about you.”

“I’m flattered,” Danielle said, not flattered at all.

“Look, we’re going to end up hanging out anyway,” Chloe said. “We may as well do it sooner rather than later to avoid all the phone tag. And I’d really like for you to see the house.”

“I might have a date that day,” Danielle said.

“Like a real date or just one of your poor one-night guys?”

“A real date. You’d like him, I think.” That was bullshit. She was pretty sure Chloe wouldn’t approve of Martin at all.

“You know how we can find out? Bring him, too.”

“Ah Jesus, you’re insufferable.”

“Is that a yes?” Chloe asked.

“That’s a we’ll see.”

“I’ll take it. How are you, Danielle? Everything going good?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Work is going well, and I’m about to go out on a date with the same guy for the twentieth time.”

“Ooh, he does sound special,” Chloe joked.

“Speaking of which, I need to get going,” Danielle said.

“Sure. I’m going to text you our address. I hope you come to the block party. Three o’clock, this Saturday.”

“No promises,” Danielle said and then took a very long gulp from her Guinness. “Bye, Chloe.”

She hung up without waiting for Chloe’s goodbye. She had no idea why, but the conversation had been draining.

A block party, she thought with bitter sarcasm. I know we don’t talk all that often, but you’d think she’d know me better than that…

As this thought crept through her mind, she started to think about her mother. That’s where her mind usually went whenever she was irritated with Chloe. As she thought of her mom, her hand went to her neck. Finding the area there bare, she hurried back through her small apartment and into the bedroom. She went to the jewelry box on her dresser and pulled out her mother’s silver necklace—just about the only tangible thing she owned that had once belonged to Gale Fine. She placed it around her neck and tucked the simple little pendant beneath her shirt.

Feeling it against her skin, she wondered how often Chloe thought of their mother. She also tried to remember the last time they had both talked about what had happened that morning seventeen years ago. She knew they were both haunted by it, but really, did anyone ever enjoy talking about ghosts?

Now with only ten minutes left before she needed to leave to meet with Martin, she chugged down the rest of her beer. She figured she could just go and be a little early. She headed for the front door to do just that but then stopped in her tracks.

Directly beneath the front door, there was an envelope. It had not been there when she was speaking on the phone with Chloe.

She walked to it and carefully picked it up. It felt like watching herself in a movie because she had done this before. This was not the first note that had come.

The envelope was unmarked. No name, no address, no markings of any kind. She opened the flap, which had not been adhered to the rest of the envelope. She reached inside and found a simple square of cardstock paper, a little larger than a playing card.

She took the note out and read it. And then read it again.

She tucked it back into the envelope and carried the envelope to the desk along the far wall of the living room. She placed it there with the other four notes, all with similar messages.

She stared at them for a moment, fearful and confused.

Her palms grew sweaty and her heart started to beat harder.

Who’s watching me? she wondered. And why?

She then did what she usually chose to do when something bothered her. She ignored it. She pushed this most recent note out of her mind, along with the simple message it carried, and headed out the door to meet Martin.

As she walked out of the building, the note’s message flashed in her mind in little shocks, almost like a neon sign.

I KNOW WHAT REALLY HAPPENED.

It made no sense, but then again, it seemed to make all the sense in the world.

She looked down at her own shadow on the city sidewalk and couldn’t help but walk a little faster. She knew she could not escape a problem by putting it in her personal rearview mirror, but it at least made her feel better.

I KNOW WHAT REALLY HAPPENED.

Her feet seemed to agree, wanting to stop walking, to run back and try to make sense of the letters—to call someone. Maybe the cops. Maybe even Chloe.

But Danielle only walked faster.

She’d managed to put her past behind her, for the most part.

Why would these letters be any different?

Chapter Three

“So you’re still sticking with the chicken, huh?”

It was such an innocent question at its core, but it sent a flare of anger through Chloe. She lightly bit at the inside of her lip to keep any stray remarks from slipping out.

Sally Brennan, Steven’s mother, was sitting across from her with an aged Stepford Wives sort of smile on her face.

“Yeah, Mom,” Steven said. “It’s food…food I probably won’t even eat because of all the nerves. If someone wants to complain about the food at my wedding reception, then they can go home. Maybe grab some Taco Bell on the way.”

Chloe squeezed Steven’s hand under the table. He’d apparently picked up on her irritation. It was rare that Steven ever stood up to his mother, but when he did he came out looking like a hero.

“Well, that’s not a very nice attitude to have,” Sally said.

“He’s right,” Wayne Brennan, Steven’s father, said from the other end of the table. The wine glass beside him was empty for the third time of tonight’s dinner and he was reaching for the bottle of red sitting near the center of the table. “Honestly, no one gives a damn about the food at the reception. It’s the booze they’re looking forward to. And we’ll have an open bar, so…”

They left the conversation hanging, the sour look on Sally’s face making it clear that she still thought chicken was a bad choice.

But that was nothing new. She’d bitched and complained about nearly every decision Chloe and Steven had made. And she never failed to offhandedly remind them who was paying for the wedding.

As it turned out, Pinecrest was not only once again home to Chloe, but it was home to Steven’s parents as well. They had moved there five years ago, technically just outside of Pinecrest in a smaller town called Elon. In addition to Steven’s job, it had been one of the reasons Chloe and Steven had decided to move to Pinecrest. He worked as a software developer for a government contractor and had been offered a position that had been too good to turn down. As for Chloe, she was currently interning with the FBI while working on her master’s in Criminal Justice. Because of the close proximity to FBI headquarters in Baltimore, it had all just made perfect sense.

Chloe was already regretting living so close to Steven’s parents, though. Wayne was all right most of the time. But Sally Brennan was, to put it mildly, an uppity bitch who loved to stick her nose in places it had no business being.

The Brennans as a couple were nice enough people, both retired, well-to-do and mostly happy. But they also coddled Steven. As an only child, Steven had admitted to Chloe numerous times that his parents had spoiled the hell out of him. Even now, when he was twenty-eight, they treated him far too much like a child. And part of that came across in an attitude of overprotectiveness. It was the main reason Chloe internally cringed whenever they wanted to go over the wedding plans.

Which, unfortunately, they apparently wanted to do over dinner. Sally had wasted no time in getting to the dinner choice for the reception.

“So how’s the house?” Wayne asked, just as eager as Chloe to move away from the topic of the wedding.

“It’s great,” Chloe said. “We’ll make it through the maze of boxes in a few days.”

“Oh, and get this,” Steven said. “A woman that Chloe went to high school with lives right down the street—like two houses down. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Maybe not as crazy as it seems,” Wayne said. “This city is just too damned small. You’re bound to stumble over someone you know at some point.”

“Especially in those neighborhoods where the houses are all on top of each other,” Sally said with a smirk, making a not-so-subtle jab about their choice of location.

“Our houses aren’t right on top of each other,” Steven said.

“Yeah, we have a decent-sized yard,” Chloe added.

Sally shrugged her shoulders and took another mouthful of wine. She then seemed to think about her next comment, maybe even almost deciding to keep it in, but letting it out anyway.

“Your high school friend isn’t the only one in Pinecrest, right?” she asked. “Your sister lives around here too, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, she does.”

She spoke the answer firmly but without being rude. Sally Brennan had never made any secrets about her distaste for Danielle—even though they had only ever crossed paths twice. Sally had the misfortune of being one of those clichéd bored housewives who lived for scandal and gossip. So when she found that Chloe had a sister with a rocky and dark past, she’d been both appalled and intrigued.

“Let’s not dwell there, Mom,” Steven said.

Chloe wished this made her feel defended but if anything, it made her feel slighted. Usually when the topic of Danielle came up, Steven ended up siding with his mother. He did have the good sense to know when to shut up but his mother usually did not.

“Will she be the maid of honor?” Sally asked.

“Yes.”

Sally didn’t roll her eyes at the comment, but her facial expression showed her feelings about it.

“She is my sister,” Chloe said. “So yes, I have asked her to be my maid of honor.”

“Yes, it makes sense,” Sally said, “but I always thought the maid of honor should be chosen carefully. It’s a big honor and responsibility.”

Chloe had to grip the edge of the table to keep from coming back with a hard-edged reply. Noticing her tension, Steven did his best to salvage the situation. “Mom, give it a rest,” he said. “Danielle will do fine. And even if something should go wrong, I’ll make sure everything is covered. This is my wedding, Mom. I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”

This time it was Chloe who nearly rolled her eyes. It was once again his way of standing up for her but of also not irritating his parents. Just once, Chloe would like for him to truly defend Danielle. She knew that Steven had no real problems with her but that he was doing his best to pacify his mother’s uneasiness of her. It was a little disgusting.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Wayne said, reaching out for a second helping of the roasted potatoes. “Let’s talk football. Now, Chloe…you’re a Redskins fan, right?”

“God, no. Giants.”

“Just as bad,” Wayne said with a laugh.

And just like that, the uneasiness of the night was swept under the rug. Chloe had always valued Wayne’s boldness in being able to ignore his wife’s bitchiness, pushing along to some another benign topic whether she was done or not. It was a trait Chloe wished Steven had picked up from his father.

Still, as the night went on, Chloe couldn’t help but wonder if Sally’s worries were legitimate. Danielle was not the sort to dress up, stay quiet, and get in front of people. Danielle would be stepping out of her comfort zone at the wedding and Chloe herself had wondered how it might go over.

As those worries floated through her head, she thought of the little girls from so many years ago, sitting on the front stoop as the body bag was carried out of their apartment. She could easily recall the blank look in Danielle’s face. She knew something had snapped in her at that moment. That, overnight, she had lost her sister.

And she suspected that, from that moment on, Danielle would never be the same again.

Chapter Four

It was raining when Chloe and her field work instructor arrived on the scene. She felt very minor league as she stepped out of the car into the drizzling rain. Because she was an intern having to go alongside her instructor in shifts with other interns, they were not given high-profile cases. This one, for instance, sounded as if it were a typical domestic abuse case. And while the details of the case did not sound very graphic or brutal, the very words domestic abuse made her cringe.

She had, after all, heard those words a lot after her mother had died. Her instructor must have been aware of her past—of what had happened with her parents—but had mentioned nothing of it this morning as they had headed out.