Echoes of Murder (Till Death do us Part Book 2)

by Bradshaw, Cheryl

  He spread his fingers. “All right, fine. Isla thinks you don’t approve of her, that you feel she’s not good enough for your brother.”

  “How can she possibly feel that way? I’ve done everything I can to help her feel like she’s part of our family. She barely talks to me.”

  “Maybe because she can never get a sentence in without being interrupted by your arrogant mother.”

  Reagan struck him, hard, across the face, a knee-jerk reaction she couldn’t take back. She clasped a hand over her mouth. “Evan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to …”

  He grabbed her hand, squeezing it until she thought it might snap. The area where she struck him reddened, leaving an impression of four, elongated fingers. He released her hand, walked to the door, and swung it open—her cue to leave.

  Instead of making a swift exit, she stood on the tips of her toes, her lips brushing across his inflamed cheek as she passed him. “I really am sorry, Evan, about all of it. I don’t expect you to believe this, but I just feel ‘out of it.’ I’m not myself right now. I won’t bother you again.”

  She stepped outside. Evan reached forward, catching her fingers in his hand. He reeled her back until she faced him. “I have to say, I think you’re the one.”

  “What one?”

  “The one that makes every man realize they’ll never understand women. Ever. And it’s a waste of time to even try.”

  It was possibly the harshest thing any man had ever said to her. She accepted it as penance for what she’d done. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “You weren’t like this when I first met you. Why are you so angry with me?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Let’s leave the past in the past, okay?”

  “It matters to me. You liked me when we first met, and you like me now. There’s a spark between us. I can feel it. So can you. You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.”

  Stubborn, and not ready to confess how many times she’d thought of him over the past several months, she crossed her arms in front of her.

  “Why did you leave?” she asked. “Why did you leave me sitting there, waiting, without saying goodbye?”

  “At the engagement party?”

  She nodded.

  “I didn’t walk out on you that night. I said I’d be back.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I swear to you, Reagan, I did.”

  “If you’re telling the truth, I didn’t hear you.”

  “There was an emergency.”

  “What emergency?”

  “The girl I was with, Sabine, was a coworker of mine. She’d been having some problems with an ex-boyfriend and didn’t feel comfortable being alone, so I invited her along that night. Sabine’s neighbor called during the party, told her she could see a man inside Sabine’s house. Sabine’s car wasn’t parked in its usual space so the neighbor knew she wasn’t there.”

  “Was it her ex?”

  He nodded.

  “We called the cops,” he continued. “Went to the house. The guy was still there. He was arrested. The point is, after it was all over, I came back. I tried to find you. It was a couple hours later, but you were already gone.”

  “Why didn’t you ask your sister for my number? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I thought I misread the signs, thought you didn’t feel the same way I did. But now, seeing you again, I know I was wrong.”

  Reagan opened her mouth to reply and reality hit her. “Evan, have you seen your sister since you left the reception?”

  “I haven’t. Why?”

  “Nathan can’t find her.”

  “What do you mean he can’t find her?”

  “Nathan went to check on Isla, to see what was holding her up. When he returned, he said she wasn’t in her room. He didn’t know where she was. That’s why I came here—to see if you’ve talked to her.” She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. “They should have left for the airport a while ago.”

  “Isla said she’d stop by my room on her way out. She wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.” Evan put a shirt on and grabbed a jacket and a sweater, extending one to Reagan. “Here. It’s getting cold out there.”

  On their way out, they passed Brand’s open door. Evan poked his head inside. “Hey, you seen Isla?”

  No response.

  Evan waved his hands in the air. Brand popped out an ear-bud, looked up. “What?”

  “Have you seen Isla? She’s missing.”

  “Nope.”

  “We’re going to look for her. Wanna join?”

  “I’m really feeling my drinks, bro. I’m sure she’s fine. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Evan and Reagan left Brand’s room and located Nathan in the reception hall. He was attempting to get the DJ to stop the music so he could address the guests. The DJ kept shaking his head, confused, the music too loud for him to fully understand Nathan’s request. Reagan wound a hand around a speaker cord and yanked back. The music grinded to an abrupt halt. There was no talking and no laughter, nothing but an eerie silence and a room full of eyes—all of them fixed on her.

  “What’s your deal?” the DJ started.

  She placed a hand on her brother’s arm, ignoring the DJ. “Any sign of her?”

  Nathan shook his head.

  Reagan held her palm out to the DJ. “I need to borrow your mike.”

  “What—why?”

  Evan stepped forward, snatched the microphone from the podium, handed it to Reagan. Microphone in hand, Reagan whipped around, facing a sea of confusion, everyone watching, waiting. “Has anyone seen Isla since she left to go and pack her things?”

  Chatter ensued, each person trying to talk over the other.

  Reagan waved a hand in front of her. “Stop! I can’t answer all of your questions right now. Please. If anyone has seen Isla in the last hour, speak up. Otherwise, be quiet.”

  For several seconds, no one spoke. Then a hand raised.

  “You’ve seen her?” Reagan asked.

  “I’m CeeCee. Isla’s grandmother. I walked her to her room. She said she needed to change out of her dress and gather her things.”

  “Did she say anything to you that seemed out of the ordinary?”

  “No, dear. She was fine. She couldn’t wait to go on her honeymoon.”

  “Do you know what time it was when you two spoke?”

  “Oh, I’d say it’s going on forty-five minutes or more now.”

  “Has anyone seen her since then?” Reagan asked.

  Silence.

  “We’ve checked her room, and she’s not there,” Reagan continued. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation, but until we find out what it is, I suggest we look for her. Anyone willing to help, please line up in front of me.”

  “It’s dark out,” Sallie chimed in. “How will we find her now?”

  Embarrassed with her mother’s lack of sensitivity to the situation, Reagan avoided addressing the comment. “Who here has flashlights on their phones, in their cars?”

  Several hands went up.

  “Great. Those of you with flashlights, you’ll search outside. Those without, please check everywhere else—bathrooms, hotel rooms …”

  As the guests gathered together and a line formed, Sallie shuffled to the front, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear her, without the mike. “Have you considered checking the SUV?”

  “Why?”

  “You’re causing quite a fuss, Reagan. Maybe you can’t find her because she left.”

  “Without Nathan? What do you mean?”

  Sallie’s hands moved to her hips, her expression smug. “Isla’s been jittery all day. I could see it in her face. Just because she went through with the wedding and they’re married now doesn’t mean the girl isn’t capable of having second thoughts. It may be too late to pretend they never married, but it’s not too late for an annulment.”

  Reagan glanced at Evan, his face a mixture of shock and pain, and Reagan felt,
for the first time, what it must have been like for Isla to endure her mother for all these years. “Mother—shut up.”

  Sallie whipped back. “You don’t talk to me that way. I’m your—”

  “Today I do. I don’t have time to deal with you right now. Keep your arrogant comments to yourself, go back to your seat, and sit down.”

  “I don’t understand. Don’t you want my help?”

  “Not right now, I don’t.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Two groups were formed, and the search commenced. Flashlight in hand, Reagan walked alongside Evan. With the moon tucked behind layers of gray-streaked clouds, the small beam of light Evan carried offered little help.

  One hour, no sign of Isla.

  Then two.

  The groups reconvened and a call was made. Local police offered no sense of comfort, instead requesting Evan wait a little longer, try again in the morning if she still hadn’t been found. A “runaway bride” comment was muttered by an insensitive officer, a joke only the officer found funny.

  When dawn arrived and Isla still hadn’t returned, Reagan, Nathan, and Evan started up the search again. Not far from the spot where Nathan and Isla married, Reagan saw a flicker of white clinging to the branch of a tree. The fabric was unmistakable. Upon closer inspection, she could see the jagged piece, about the size of a dollar bill, appeared to have ripped from Isla’s dress.

  Several yards away, she found a second piece of fabric dangling from a bush near the edge of a steep cliff. Reagan lifted it off, smoothing the fabric in her hand. Her instincts told her to look over the edge. She resisted. She didn’t want to. She wasn’t prepared for what she might see if she did. Maybe nothing. Maybe the torn pieces of Isla’s dress had scattered in the wind, and one had rested here, at the cliff. Only she knew she was wrong. The night before there had been nothing more than a gentle breeze. No, Isla had been here, in her dress, so close to this very edge.

  Reagan glanced behind her. Nathan and Evan had gone in separate directions, neither close to where she stood. She took a step forward. Then another. And then she looked down, her eyes coming to rest on a large, balled up patch of white.

  CHAPTER 5

  “No, Nathan. Don’t. Hang on a minute.”

  Reagan pressed on her brother’s chest, easing him away from the edge.

  “You found something,” Nathan said, “I can tell. Get out of the way, Reagan.”

  “I don’t want you to—”

  Evan stepped in front of her. He peered over the side, squinted until he spotted what Reagan had seen only moments before. He turned, his face dulling to a lifeless ash. “We need to get down there. Now.”

  “How?” Nathan asked. “That has to be at least a hundred feet straight down. Maybe more.”

  Evan frowned. “You have any better ideas? Because I don’t, and right now, we’re wasting time.”

  Wearing the only pair of shoes she brought to the wedding, a pair of slippery flats, Reagan had no choice but to remain where she was, watching with nervous anticipation as Evan and Nathan scaled the side of the cliff, descending upon what she hoped was nothing more than Isla’s discarded wedding dress—although she wasn’t foolish enough to think it was. In reality, Reagan was just passing the time, her body heat dissipating as a chill slowly blanketed her. And it wasn’t even cold outside.

  Isla was dead.

  She was sure of it now.

  But how? And why?

  In a rush to reach the bottom, Evan scaled the side first, turning a moment to Nathan as he started down. “I can do this myself. Why don’t you wait with Reagan?”

  Nathan shook his head, his foot dangling over the cliff. “No chance in hell. If it is her, I want to be there.”

  The pair made it halfway down without incident. Then Nathan placed his hand on what appeared to be a sturdy rock, quickly learning it offered no support. The rock tumbled from its resting place, barreling to the bottom. Nathan’s feet dislodged, giving way beneath him. He fell backward, his hands pressing against the terra firma for support as his body slid then tumbled forward.

  “Nathan!” Reagan’s shrieks echoed through the valley, the tips of her nails digging into the skin on the sides of her neck as she watched in horror.

  Nathan’s body somersaulted the rest of the way down, catching on an oversized bush a few feet from the bottom. There was no movement once he stopped. No sound. Even the air was hushed.

  Evan braced himself against the mountain’s steep, rocky wall, his hands pressing onto the ground behind him for support. He pushed down, initiating movement. The sliding motion punctured his skin, but in seconds, he was curling his body over Nathan’s.

  “Evan, is he all right?” Reagan shouted.

  Evan cupped his hands over his mouth, yelled up to her. “He’s breathing, and his eyes are open. He can’t move though. He thinks something’s wrong with his leg.”

  Reagan’s hands trembled as she dialed 9-1-1. Evan remained with Nathan for a minute before scooting off the mountain to do what brought them there in the first place. He reached the bunched up layers of white and fell to his knees, taking the fabric in his hands and burying his head inside it.

  Nathan may not have been able to move, but it was obvious his vision hadn’t been impaired by the fall. One look and he understood. A chilling intonation of rage emitted from his mouth.

  A cry of anguish Reagan would never forget.

  CHAPTER 6

  Over the next hour, a bevy of officers, medics, and crime scene analysts descended on what was now considered a possible crime scene. Two men strapped into thick, black harnesses repelled from the side of a chopper, then carefully placed Nathan’s body onto a flat rectangular bed. Once secure, he was lifted into the air and whisked away, the chopper tearing through the azure sky until it was no bigger than a gnat.

  Isla’s body still remained below, the scene around her being processed from every angle.

  Reagan watched the commotion ensue, watched Evan’s frustration heighten as the seconds ticked by. He’d been brought back up to the top, and he stood in front of Reagan now, pacing, his eyes wild, like a tripwire holding him together was about to blow.

  It didn’t take long.

  Together, they were escorted back to the hotel where Reagan overheard one of the officers say the new chief of police was due to arrive. And arrive he did, rolling up in a splashy red-and-white, two-passenger convertible smart car—although judging his obvious girth, the maximum occupancy of the electric wonder needed to be dialed back down to one passenger. It took two and a half tries before the chief managed to scoot himself into a standing position, and even then, his body wobbled and he grappled the side of the door for support. Footing secured, he skimmed the area.

  Evan didn’t let the moment pass without making it his own. He approached the chief, encroaching on his personal space, finger extended. The chief folded his arms over his sizeable abdomen, and the two squared off.

  “You’re too late,” Evan began.

  Reagan could hear the anguish in his voice, almost feel the pain.

  “Pardon me?” the chief replied. “You are?”

  “My sister’s dead because of you.”

  The chief ran a hand over the side of his polished head. “Ahh, right. You must be the brother. Let’s save the finger pointing until we know what happened, all right? I know this won’t matter to you now, but I wasn’t aware your sister was missing until this morning.”

  Evan shook his head. “Figures.”

  The chief stuck out a hand. “Name’s Chief Hall, and I am sorry about your sister. We will do everything we can to find out what happened here.”

  Each time the chief’s mouth opened, a strong odor of minty mouthwash wafted through the air. Reagan pictured him guzzling it after every meal, before each meeting.

  Evan made no movement. He stared at the chief’s hand like it was being offered by an untrustworthy extraterrestrial. The chief seemed to sense Evan’s frustration. He retracted the hand and plac
ed it on Evan’s shoulder instead.

  Evan jerked back. “Don’t touch me. I’m not your buddy.”

  Not getting anywhere with Evan, the chief shifted his focus to Reagan. “I understand you were with the deceased’s husband and brother when the body was discovered this morning.”

  Reagan nodded. The chief continued.

  “Since the groom is being transferred to the hospital, we’ll catch up with him later. In the meantime, we need to ask some questions so we can establish what happened here. Then we’ll need to round up what’s left of the rest of your party.”

  “Like they know anything,” Evan spat.

  “Even so …”

  “We tried asking for your help last night. No one took us seriously.”

  “I understand what you must be going through right now. It’s tough, but—”

  “You understand nothing. My sister may have still been alive when we asked for your help. None of you people were willing to get off your asses last night to do any real police work. Now I get to sit here while some idiot photographs her body, picks at her like she’s some kind of science experiment.”

  The chief remained calm. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and it probably wouldn’t be his last. “I assure you, no one is ‘picking’ at her. We treat everyone with the utmost respect, no matter who they are, no matter where they came from. Rich. Poor. Known. Unknown. I’d never allow anything different.”

  The chief’s words did nothing to soothe Evan’s escalating anxiety. It pained Reagan to see him like this, desperate and inconsolable, spiraling into a behavior even he couldn’t seem to control. She wanted to reach out, but she didn’t know how he would react if she did.

  Reagan patted the side of the hard, gritty boulder she leaned against. “Evan, why don’t you sit down for a minute? Catch your breath.”

  “And leave my sister unattended? I can’t do that. She needs me.”

  “She’ll be well cared for. I’ll make sure of it,” Reagan said. “As soon as the ME takes her back to the lab and finishes conducting their autopsy, I’ll take a look at her. Okay?”