were particularly good. “I’m available immediately.” He’d finished the final report on his last assignment. There was no reason he couldn’t get started right away.
Dana met his eyes now. “When can we leave?”
Brighton was only a few hours’ drive from Chicago. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements this evening, and we’ll meet here at nine tomorrow morning. We can be there shortly after noon.” She nodded and he went on. “I’d like you to compile a list of any relevant details and names you recall that we haven’t already discussed. We’ll go over those on the way and lay out our strategy.”
Dana took an audible breath. “Excellent.”
As the meeting concluded, Spence watched Dana interact with Victoria. Every instinct warned him that the lady wasn’t being completely open. He had worked with the parents of abused and neglected children long enough to recognize deception on any level when he saw it. This lady was hiding something…something she understood was relevant to the case.
The only question was why.
Chapter Three
Brighton, Indiana
Dana hadn’t been back to her birthplace in sixteen years.
Nothing had changed.
Brighton was one of those towns where time seemed to stand still.
Her stomach twisted into knots as if her thirteenth birthday had been just yesterday. Images from the party…her and her sister, Donna, wearing silly pink party hats. Balloons floated everywhere and the clown dancing around the room laughed loudly. Dozens of kids played and sang—then everyone had gone home. Night had come and their parents had tucked them into bed. They’d giggled and whispered, too excited to go to sleep. Donna had wanted to sneak out to play in the woods behind their house. Dana hadn’t wanted to…but she’d caved beneath her sister’s pleading. She’d never been able to say no to Donna.
Dana remembered playing in the damp grass beneath the moonlight. Even now she could almost feel the wet blades tickling her toes…the crisp air whispering against her skin.
But she remembered nothing beyond that.
In the wee hours of the following morning, after an intensive search by local authorities and neighbors, she and her sister had been found deep in the woods behind their home. Her sister was dead, and Dana was disoriented and suffering from mild exposure.
Dana blinked away the past, stared out the car window at the storefronts lining the main street that split the town in half. A left turn would take one to the downtown area where the courthouse dominated a well-manicured square of shops and offices. Beyond the town square were neat rows of streets dotted with brick ranch homes and painted bungalows. A right turn revealed the smaller, mostly rundown homes of the poorer residents. The railroad, light industry and warehouses were interspersed with blocks of tiny duplexes and walk-up apartment buildings. A mile or so outside the town limits lay a stretch of road with a few scattered houses surrounded by big yards and woodlands.
Home.
A place so calm and quiet. Not at all the type of town where one expected to encounter evil.
But it had been here.
And now she was back.
Would anyone suspect her motive?
Or her?
“Dana?”
Banishing the disturbing thoughts, she dragged her attention back to the driver. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“Which way to the police department?”
Dana frowned, surveyed the street name on the corner sign and dredged her memory banks for the directions. The last letter her mother had received from the chief had been from the same old address. “Two more red lights then right. You’ll see the building on your left, I believe.”
William Spencer, or Spence as his colleagues called him, focused on making the turns she’d suggested. Dana studied his profile. He wore his dark brown hair short. His eyes were equally dark. Thirty-six. Law school graduate. She’d looked him up on Google the night before. He’d graduated at the top of his class and gone on to work at one of Chicago’s most prestigious law firms. But then the county had persuaded him to give up half his income to work as a child advocacy attorney. Married once. Then divorced. No children. He’d worked at the Colby Agency for only eight months.
Fear that she’d started something she would regret abruptly clasped around Dana’s chest. She should just let the past go.
But then she would never know.
“Here we are.”
Spence braked to a stop in the parking lot. Dana stared at the long, drab brick building that housed the police and fire departments. Despite the air-conditioning in the car, perspiration dampened her skin as her heart thumped harder and harder.
“Chief Gerard is expecting us.”
Dana heard the words Spence said, but the larger part of her attention was focused on the official lettering sprawled across the glass entry she’d last entered sixteen years ago.
“Dana.”
Dana gave herself a mental shake and reached for the car door. “Right.” Chief Gerard had struggled through the town’s first homicide case. Her sister’s case.
Sherry’s and Joanna’s case.
Three victims…three unsolved murders within a week in a town small enough that everyone knew everyone else. Three young girls killed by someone they apparently knew since there were no signs of struggle. How was it possible that no one admitted to having the first clue who that someone was?
Stop. Dana slammed the car door and squared her shoulders. She had to stop allowing her thoughts to go down that path. Focus. She had to focus and let this man—she glanced at William Spencer—do his job. He was the expert here…she was just the desperate client.
And maybe, just maybe, she would learn that she wasn’t the one who’d killed her own sister…and two of her best friends.
SPENCE WATCHED Dana Hall closely as they waited for Chief Gerard to finish an afternoon meeting that had, according to his secretary, run over. Dana’s emotions appeared to vacillate between high anxiety and extreme dread. The anxiousness was to be expected. The dread, however, surprised him. This was a woman who had clearly suffered for years due to not knowing what really happened to her sister. She’d sought the Colby Agency’s help in finding the truth. Despite her insistence that she needed to learn what happened sixteen years ago, she appeared to fear learning that truth.
Spence recognized the symptoms. The woman knew something she wasn’t sharing. In his experience with the parents of abused or neglected children, he’d seen those very symptoms time and time again. The burden of guilt weighed on most, even when their instincts urged them to protect themselves. No one wanted to face the reality of what they had done much less the consequences related to the act or acts.
But what had Dana Hall done besides find herself a victim of the most heinous
