you see what’s all over the floor? Photos. Scrapbooks. Journals.” She gestured toward the hardwood floor. “I know why Misty was attacked.”
Cade didn’t speak, nor did he move his hand.
“All this—” this time she included the bloodstain on the floor and the couch in her sweeping gesture “—is my fault.”
Chapter Two
Cade Dupree didn’t know what it was about Laurel Gillespie, but he was having a devil of a time taking his eyes off her. If it hadn’t been for one glaring incident back in high school, he wouldn’t even have remembered her. She’d been a year behind him and two years behind his brother. His memory of her was of braces and glasses and wildly curly red hair.
The reason he remembered that much was because of the part his brother James had played in embarrassing her in front of the whole school.
She’d changed. Now her dark red hair was pulled back into a loose braid, but it still wasn’t totally tamed. Wisps and waves floated around her face. Unobscured by braces and glasses, her delicate features were lovely.
Yep. She’d changed a lot.
“Cade, I want to get to the hospital and check on Misty. She’s going to be scared to death when she realizes where she is.”
Cade took off his baseball cap, folded the brim and stuck it into his back pocket. “Five seconds ago I’d have said go ahead, but you just inserted yourself into the middle of this. You want to explain why this is your fault?” He leaned against the door facing and crossed his arms.
To his surprise, her face turned pink.
“I got an invitation to our ten-year high school reunion, but I hated high school. I never intended to come back to town. But Misty begged me to come. I told her I’d think about it.”
Cade blew out an impatient breath.
“This is relevant, Chief Dupree. I was going to wait a day or two and call her back with an excuse. In the meantime, I pulled out snapshots from high school—mostly of graduation night. I wanted to review faces and names.” She turned back toward him and reached into her jacket pocket.
Instinctively, he tensed. It was a ridiculous reaction, totally at odds with her words and body language.
“I found something.”
He flexed his fingers as she pulled out a small stack of snapshots. She held them out.
He took them and shuffled through them. “Yeah? What?”
“Something that would never happen in a million years.”
He frowned at her but she just leveled a gaze at him. He stepped over to a small desk and turned on a lamp. He scrutinized the photos under the bright light. They were mostly snapshots of Laurel and Misty.
The two girls wore white dresses and held their caps and gowns. Both were grinning from ear to ear. Cade studied the awkward high-school Laurel. She wore a dress that hung on her like a sack. Her delicate bone structure and pretty features were not quite obscured by those ugly glasses and braces.
If he or any other guy had bothered to really look at her, they’d have seen what he saw now. Little skinny carrottop Laurel had been destined to be a knockout.
“Put the photos side by side.”
“You could just tell me, you know.” He laid them out like a game of solitaire, then leaned over to study them more closely.
“Back then, I didn’t notice anything odd in the photos, but looking at them now, with seven years of experience in criminology under my belt, what I see doesn’t add up.”
“Who are these people?” He pointed. “I recognize Misty and you. Nice braces.”
She sniffed.
“Who’s that standing behind you two?”
She stepped closer and Cade got a whiff of the scent of gardenias floating around her.
“That’s Wendell Vance.”
“Vance? Where do I know that name?”
“He died that night.”
A vague memory surfaced. “He hanged himself.”
Her nod stirred the air near his cheek. He picked up one of the photos and looked at it more closely under the light.
“Notice anything odd?”
“No. I barely remember him.”
“Look at his face.”
“Okay. His face is red. Embarrassed?”
“You don’t remember what happened that night? What the CeeGees did?”
He shook his head. He’d been at Ole Miss when Laurel’s class graduated. “The CeeGees?”
“The Cool Girls. You know, Debra Evans, Kathy Hodges, Mary Sue Nelson and Sheryl Posey. Their mission in life was to prey on shy girls and geeky boys.”
The girls who’d played the prank on her.
“They taped a sign to his back during graduation that said Wendell Vance has a pencil in his pants.”
“Ouch.” He suppressed a grin—almost.
“It’s not funny.” Her hazel eyes sparked.
“Yeah. It is.”
She propped her fists on her hips. “They humiliated him in front of his parents, his teachers, his classmates.”
He nodded. “I remember Dad talking about it. He thought that was the reason Wendell killed himself.”
“So did everybody. But look here.” Laurel tapped the snapshot with a trimmed manicured nail.
He squinted. “A girl’s hand on his shoulder. So?”
“Not just any girl’s hand. That’s—”
“Cade!”
Laurel jumped. Cade looked toward the door. Oh, damn. It was Debra, Fred Evans’s daughter.
“Dad told me something happened to Misty. What is it? Can I do anything to help?” Her eyes darted around the room and came to rest on the blood in front of the couch.
“Oh, my God!” She turned white as a sheet, then scurried into the room, a plump hand covering her mouth. “I think I may throw up.”
Laurel eyed her. Interesting that she had rushed toward the bloodstain as she threatened to throw up. But then Debra had always been a bit of a drama queen. Based on how she was acting, Laurel would wager that the former CeeGee knew exactly what she would find in Misty’s living room. The only thing that wasn’t fake was her pallor.
In
