Jed couldn’t have done it.
Hannah bit her bottom lip, ashamed at the first thought that flew into her head. A woman had just been murdered—and Jed didn’t need her sympathy or protection, anyway. He’d made that heartbreakingly clear.
Jed took a noisy breath beside her. “Who is it this time?”
This time. A shiver ran up Hannah’s spine. She swallowed against her dry throat. “Stephanie Boyd, another single mom with a young child. She’s a newbie. You wouldn’t know her.”
“Why did the cops call you? They need your help with her child? Do they think this is linked to Zoey’s murder?” He clapped a hand on his forehead. “It would have to be. What are the odds? Two murders in as many days on this island?”
Tapping her phone, she said, “That was an unofficial call. It was an officer from this morning when I saw Sheldon. He was telling me off the record. Didn’t give me much, but it has to be tied to Zoey’s death, right? I mean, I know Discovery Bay has a brisk little drug trade going on, but we generally don’t have serial killers running around the islands.”
“You just made a good point.” Jed massaged his temple with two fingers. “The murders could have something to do with drugs. We both know Zoey was no stranger to the drug culture. Maybe this...Stephanie was running with the same crowd. Maybe she even knew Chase Thompson. From what I heard, he not only dated Zoey, he dabbled in the drug trade.”
“Fletch, the officer, gave me very little. Just a heads up.”
“Wait a minute.” Jed smacked the steering wheel, causing her to jump for the second time in his car. “Stephanie. What did you say her last name was?”
“Boyd. Stephanie Boyd. Has... Had a daughter.”
“Damn.” Jed scrambled for his phone that was charging on the console between them. “I think I know this woman.”
Hannah’s heart picked up the pace in her chest. “How? You met her since you’ve been back on the island? She’s not someone we know from the old days.”
“No, but her brother is.” He squinted at his phone. “You remember Michael Ramsey?”
“Of course. Few years older than you. Parents got divorced when he was a kid and Mom left the island.”
“His mother remarried, had a second family. Stephanie Boyd is Michael’s half sister.”
“How do you know all this?” She eyed the phone still clutched in his hand, her stomach still queasy that Jed knew the second victim.
“I ran into Michael in LA, of all places. When I told him I was coming back to Dead Falls, he asked me to look in on his half sister, said she was in a bad place.” He dropped the phone in his cup holder. “Never got the chance...and now she’s in a really bad place.”
“So, you didn’t actually meet Stephanie?” She tucked her own phone in the side pocket of her purse, a tiny breath escaping from between her lips.
He jerked his head to the side. “Worried the cops are gonna come after me for this one, too?”
“Of course not.” She brushed an imaginary strand of hair from her cheek. “You were with the Mitchells and me all night, anyway.”
“I’m glad you have my alibi all sorted out for me.” His lips twisted into a smile.
“Well, this isn’t about you, is it?” Why did Jed have to keep jumping on everything she said? Wasn’t she allowed to be concerned about him?
He slumped in his seat. “No, it isn’t. I’m going to have to call Michael and tell him I never even got around to checking on his sister. Do you think it’s a coincidence that Zoey and Stephanie were both single moms?”
“I’m sure of it, indirectly, at least. Their deaths must have something to do with their lifestyles. If Michael was worried about his sister, she was probably mixed up with the wrong people. We know Zoey was into the drug scene on the island. They either knew something they shouldn’t have known, or they crossed the wrong guy. I’m sure the sheriff’s department...with the help of Seattle Homicide will figure it out.”
Jed snorted. “You have a lot more faith in the Dead Falls Sheriff’s Department than I do.”
“I did throw Seattle PD in there. I’m sure they see these types of crimes all the time.” She rubbed her palms against the thighs of her jeans. “I’d better get inside. If Stephanie’s daughter was home at the time of the murder, I may have another little patient to see.”
“So sad for those kids.” He opened his door. “I’ll walk you up to your porch. Aren’t you glad I waited now?”
“I’m sure I don’t have anything to worry about.” But she was glad. The mansion, as Jed called it, sat in an area of the island where each house had acreage. Her nearest neighbor lived a few miles away. Nobody would hear her scream out here—not that she planned on screaming.
Jed’s shoulder bumped hers as they walked up to the wide veranda that almost encircled the house. She’d be fine as long as he didn’t take her hand again. She’d almost gone weak in the knees when he’d grasped her hand by the swing set. She’d never been able to resist him, and a stint in prison and a surly demeanor hadn’t changed that.
He waited until she inserted the key in the lock, and then touched her shoulder. “I hope you don’t have a new patient tomorrow. I hope that little girl was nowhere near her mother at the time of her death.”
“I hope so, too.” She bumped the door with her hip. “Good night, Jed.”
She closed the door and sensed his presence on the porch until she slid the dead bolt home. He really didn’t have to worry about her, but his concern gave her the warm fuzzies. As much as he tried to push her away and play the tough guy, she knew the connection between them hadn’t fizzled. That spark they’d first felt as kids running around the island still existed.
Except they weren’t kids anymore, and Jed Swain had become a very complicated man—one she couldn’t afford to sort out.
JED SAT OUTSIDE Hannah’s house until she extinguished every light inside, except for a yellow glow from a small window on the landing. Most of the bedrooms in that behemoth of a house faced the back, with views of the woods and a peek of the bay.
The homes out here sat on acres of property, so Hannah’s neighbors were few and far between. He didn’t like it—not with a murderer loose on the island. Not that Hannah had anything to do with the drug culture on the island, but she saw patients, including Sheldon Grady, who did. What if someone wanted to find out what Sheldon knew about his mother’s murder?
He groaned and smacked his palms on the steering wheel. Hannah Maddox had ceased to be his concern when her father had him shipped off to prison. Out of sight, out of mind.
If he’d had any sense at all, he would’ve stayed in LA or moved back to San Luis Obispo instead of trying to prove to the good citizens of Dead Falls Island that they’d been wrong about him. He’d soon come to the realization when he got here that he didn’t give a damn what any one of them thought about him...until he ran into Hannah.
He started the car and pulled away from her house. On the way back to the Mitchells’ place, he veered toward the shoulder of the road and looked up Stephanie’s address—stored in an e-mail Michael had sent him. Hannah had just found out about the murder, so the cops would still be on the scene. If anyone else on the island knew about the crime, he wouldn’t be the only one in the vicinity.
He didn’t need to enter the address in his phone’s GPS. He recognized Stephanie’s address as the house where Michael had grown up. Michael’s father had never remarried, so his wife must’ve retained some stake in the house or Michael had generously allowed his half sister to live there.
The house occupied a small lot on the edge of a subdivision off the main road that circled the island. At the turnoff for the community, Jed noticed more activity than usual for this time of night. Word of Stephanie’s death must’ve gotten out already, and the late-night denizens of the island bars had flocked to the scene—easier for him to keep a low profile.
He circled around the edge of the homes, following the line of the park that the residents had demanded after the builder completed the construction. At the last turn to Stephanie’s house, a police cruiser blocked the entrance to the street and a few clutches of people hovered at the scene.
Jed pulled over, well away from the cop car. He’d already had his encounter with the sheriffs tonight. Didn’t need another one.
Hands in his pockets, he sauntered up to one group of people, their arms crossed and their heads together whispering. Their pajamas and robes marked them as the neighbors, as opposed to the bunch lounging near their cars in denim and leather.
He cleared his throat. “I heard Stephanie Boyd was murdered.”
Four pale faces turned his way, and he recognized Karl Lundstrom and his wife. Karl had lived down the street from Michael’s family back in the day.
“Oh, hey. That you, Jed?”
Jed stuck out his hand. “Yes, sir, Mr. Lundstrom.”
“Call me Karl.” He sliced a hand through the air. “Hadn’t seen you since you’ve been back. Damn shame about what happened to you. Never believed it.”
Then Karl had been in the minority. “Appreciate that.”
“Now Zoey Grady is dead, along with this one.” Karl gestured toward the flashing lights in front of Stephanie’s house, the medical examiner’s van parked at the curb.
His wife ducked her head and whispered, “Drugs...both of those girls.”
Karl patted his wife’s frail shoulder. “We don’t know that yet, Charlene.”
“Did any of the neighbors hear or see anything? Who discovered her body?” Jed kicked his toe against the curb.
The other woman in the group put her hand over her heart. “The little girl discovered her in the backyard.”
Jed swallowed. Hannah would most likely have another patient. “That’s messed up.”
“She screamed and screamed.” Charlene wiped a tear from her cheek. “Woke up the neighbors next door. I just can’t believe it happened in this neighborhood. Zoey’s place—well, that area is run-down.”
“In the backyard.” Another victim murdered outside her house, or incapacitated inside and dragged out. Jed rubbed his chin, then noticed four pairs of eyes watching him. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I was just heading home. Stay safe.”
He strode to his car, his spine straight, as he felt the neighbors’ gazes drilling him between the shoulder blades. He blew out a breath when he got behind the wheel. Both murders might be tied to the drug trade in Discovery Bay, but the involvement of the children put Hannah right in the center of the maelstrom.
As he started his engine, his phone buzzed, and he plucked it out of his cup holder. The name on the display punched him in the gut. He closed his eyes and answered.
“Michael.”
“Jed, I’m sorry to call you so late, but I just had some devastating news.”
“I already know about Stephanie. I’m so sorry, man. And I’m sorry I never contacted her before...before...”
“The Dead Falls Sheriff’s Department just notified me. I couldn’t believe it when they told me it looked like homicide. A drug overdose wouldn’t have surprised me, but this?” Michael’s voice broke on a sob.
“You still overseas?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Michael sniffed.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, Michael. I mean it this time.”
“There is something you can do, Jed.”
Jed squinted at the police activity beyond the barricade. “Yeah, anything, man.”
“When I ran into you in LA, you mentioned that you had your PI license and had been doing some work for those attorneys who helped your case.”
“That’s right.”
Michael coughed. “I mean, that’s why I asked you to look into Stephanie’s activities, you know? Well, that and being a Dead Falls native.”
“Yeah?”
“And I wouldn’t ask this, but you know better than anyone how corrupt and useless the sheriff’s department is.”
“Yeah?” A pulse in Jed’s temple had started throbbing. “What is it, Michael? What do you want me to do?”
“Dude, I need you to investigate my sister’s murder.”