by Cassie James
“Patrick?” I’m almost certain I misheard him but Smith nods. Maybe he hit him over something that had nothing to do with me, but something inside of me tells me that’s not the case. I don’t know if that means there’s some truth to what Jax said about Patrick all those weeks ago but that’s just one more thing I can’t deal with tonight. I turn my back so that I don’t have to look at Patrick or Jax and can focus on Smith instead. Right now, Smith is the guy I need to be focusing on.
A few hours later into the party, I break away to use the bathroom only to come back and find that Sadie and Smith have vanished. I ask around, but everyone else seems just as confused as I am about their disappearing act. I even ask the catering staff if they noticed anyone leave but none of them remember seeing a set of blondes going anywhere.
I tell myself not to overreact or expect the worst when I cover the entire first floor with no sign of either of them. It would be too easy to assume they were off snooping around, but if that was Smith’s plan there would have been no reason for him to return my grandfather’s stolen book from me. And there’s nothing about Sadie to suggest she would stab me in the back. Though, I do have to worry about her for a whole different reason. I’ve been carefully watching tonight to make sure she’s not drinking. Now that she’s who-knows-where I have no way of knowing what she’s doing. I’ve got a bad feeling that alcohol is almost certainly involved.
I search the second floor from end to end, coming up just as empty as I did on the first. I frown at the steps to the third floor. It wouldn’t be polite for anyone to wander up there in the middle of a party, but it’s the only place I haven’t looked. I take a deep breath and slowly ascend the stairs. It’s eerily quiet as I make it to the third floor landing. There aren’t as many rooms up here, so it doesn’t take me quite as long to search. Still, I don’t see any sign of them.
I’m just about to give up my search when I realize there’s more of a draft than usual up here. I move towards it, trying to ignore the goosebumps it kicks up along my arms. I know what I’m about to find before I reach it. The window, the one that leads out onto the flat part of the roof—like Sadie showed me at her house—is halfway open. I pull back the curtain just enough to see four silhouettes illuminated by a heavy stream of moonlight. The sky is so clear tonight.
I carefully tug the window the rest of the way open. Sadie has to be one of those silhouettes; she’s the only person I know that would think to go to this particular spot. I brace as the cold hits me full force, creeping bitterly up the skirt of my dress as I climb over the windowsill. I’m surprised they haven’t noticed me. It’s like they’re in their own little world up here.
“What are you all doing?” The cold wind whips through my hair.
All four of them turn at once, each of their expressions eerily blank. Sadie. Smith. Patrick. Jax. They glance quickly at me then each other. An ominous feeling settles in the air. Still, no one answers.
I take a step closer, struggling to find purchase on the icy roof in my heels. My toe catches, but just before I trip Patrick reaches for me. “Be careful,” he warns, his voice hoarse.
“Why are you up here?” I try asking again. It’s too cold to justify being out here, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t safe considering how icy the roof is.
Another cold burst of air swirls past me, making me wrap my arms tight around myself. Within seconds, a jacket is being draped over me. I look over my shoulder, my eyes connecting with Smith’s forehead. He’s looking down, going out of his way not to make the usual eye contact with me. Something is going on. Something bad. I can feel it in the air, but no one is talking. “Thank you,” I whisper to him, but he just nods.
Sadie lets out a long breath, and there’s no missing the smell of alcohol that radiates off of her. I can see it in her face, she’s been drinking even though I’m sure she has to realize I was trying all night to keep her from doing just that. I wonder if that’s why she came out here, hoping no one would stop her from indulging. The guys are out here, too, though. Surely one of them would have said something.
“Something happened.” Patrick is the one that finally says it. Everyone else is still silent. I study the group again, looking for any clue to what’s going on. Something happened isn’t a lot to go off of.
Jax is closest to the edge of the roof. He’s staring down with such concentration that it piques my interest despite the anger still churning in my stomach towards him. For someone that usually looks like they don’t have a care in the world, Jax sure looks worked up now. His whole body is tense, an unfamiliar look for him. I want to enjoy seeing him like that, but I’m too busy wanting to know why no one is telling me anything. “What are you looking at?” I carefully step closer to him, reaching for his arm for balance when my fear of tripping outweighs my desire to avoid physical contact.
As soon as I peer over the edge of the roof, I wish I hadn’t. Someone’s down there, their body twisted amongst Pearl’s winter-withered rosebushes. It’s not a natural angle, but it still takes my brain several precious long moments to understand that this isn’t just someone fooling around in the garden. Kathryn’s unmistakable red hair forms a tangled halo around her head.
My voice catches. “She’s—”
“Dead,” Jax finishes for me in an even tone.
I wanted someone to laugh, to give some sign that would be Kathryn’s cue to stand up and take a bow. It has to be a prank. I’ve never been this close to an… accident, not even in Nikon Park where drug overdoses were on nearly every corner. But no one’s laughing and it’s not a joke. Kathryn Lassiter is dead.
I turn to them, my eyes landing on each of them in turn. They all avoid me, not one of them comfortable with the eye contact. I think I’m going to be sick. No, I know I’m going to be sick. I sway dangerously close to the edge of the roof as I struggle to stay upright on my unsteady feet. I flinch when Jax’s hand shoots out towards me, but he’s only reaching for me to pull me farther out of harm’s way.
Something happened is an understatement. My voice echoes into the cold, dark night when I ask, “What did you do?”
Acknowledgments
Y’all, I really put my editor through the ringer on this one.
Special hugs and kisses (platonic ones) to Christine for working all hours of the night—and on a holiday—to help me pull this book off. How else would I have known that you give someone the third degree not fourth degree? (Cue facepalm here.)
There’s nothing worse than being a full-time writer who isn’t writing—but that’s exactly what I was this past spring. The town of Patience breathed the muse back into me, and for that I am forever grateful to these characters and this story.
It’s my sincere hope that you’ll find something in this series to fall in love with the way I have while writing it. These characters still have so much more to say!
With so many books out there to choose from, I’m so grateful that you picked up mine. I hope that you’ll consider leaving a review (they’re the lifeblood of self-publishing) and let me know what you thought—the good, the bad, and even the ugly!
Thank you! ❤
