LANA LETTINO SEARCHED the animated faces crowding the noisy Biltmore Hotel ballroom. Everyone was laughing, drinking, glancing toward the door as they waited for the guest of honor.
Which one of you was it?
Someone in this room had murdered her older brother.
She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Which one of these people had been evil enough to plunge a knife into the gut of a nineteen-year-old, and then leave him alone to bleed out like an animal?
Had it truly been eight years? That loss still haunted her every day. Her already damaged mother had become a different person, a woman who had never gotten over the death of her oldest child.
“Damn, Lana,” Dale whispered in her ear. “Lighten up.”
“What?” She glanced at her date for the evening. Tall, with spiky brown hair, Dale Baldwin was a good-looking dude, but only a colleague she’d asked to accompany her tonight to help check out suspects. “I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re canvassing the room like you’re trying to select which suspect to interrogate first. Or go ten rounds with.”
“Shh,” she hissed. “No one here knows I’m a cop, and I don’t want them to.”
“How the hell did you manage that?”
“I haven’t had much contact with anyone since—” She swallowed. “Since my senior year in high school.”
Since Dan’s funeral.
“Just keep your eyes and ears open for anybody who acts weird when the name Daniel Lettino is mentioned,” she reminded Dale.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding toward a group of former cheerleaders.
Lana followed his gaze. The twins had actually worn their old uniforms. Jeez. She’d burned hers the day they buried Danny.
Cindy Arroyo, their captain and Dan’s former girlfriend, motioned Lana over to join them. Lana ignored her, knowing Cindy wanted to perform one of their old cheer routines.
“There are a few young ladies present that I definitely need to meet,” Dale said, his gaze lingering on Cindy.
“The murderer isn’t female,” Lana objected. “I’ve narrowed my suspects to a member of the team or a coach.”
“Those fine specimens of womanhood look like a team.”
“I mean the football team,” she said.
Dale grinned, his focus still on the women. Cindy, having noticed Dale’s attention, threw back her shoulders, no doubt an attempt to show off her breasts, which were mysteriously larger than Lana remembered, and headed toward them. Lana sighed. Maybe she should have asked Sean to escort her. Dale was an excellent observer, but such a womanizer.
“Lana,” Cindy said when she arrived, her gaze on Dale.
“Cindy.”
“Are you going to introduce me to your date?” Cindy asked.
After introductions, Cindy held on to Dale’s hand just a little too long before turning to Lana.
“Did you get my email? Of course you’re going to join us for two bits,” Cindy stated.
Lana shrugged. “I’m not in much of a cheering mood.”
“Why? Okay. Maybe you’ve gained a little weight, but you still look good.”
“Gee, thanks, Cindy,” Lana said. Beside her, Dale strangled a laugh.
When one of the other cheerleaders pulled Cindy away, Lana breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could continue her surveillance.
She’d finally completed her police training, was off probation, and now had the skills and the resources to locate Danny’s murderer.
She’d decided to attend this party because all of the suspects would be together in one place. She could study them. Take notes. Find evidence of a lie or a tell, of someone hiding something.
Someone would make a mistake and say the wrong thing.
“I think I need to get to know your friend Cindy better,” Dale said.
“You and everyone else,” Lana muttered. Cindy had constantly broken up with Danny, making him, and thus everyone in her family, miserable.
Dale laughed as Lana brought her glass to her mouth but only sipped the chardonnay. She intended to stay stone-cold sober while everyone else at this reunion got happy and sloppy. Careless.
Bubba Jones, once a linebacker and tonight’s lookout, burst into the room. “He’s coming.”
“Quiet, everyone.”
The room grew still except for a laugh or two. Lana heard the hum of the air conditioner in the background. A cough. Another nervous giggle.
A minute later, the doors opened again. Coach Xavier Robertson and his wife entered the hushed room.
“Surprise!”
Coach Robby, his hair now gray, stepped back as if staggered. Lana was close enough to see tears in his eyes, which he immediately swiped away with a shaky hand. Then he was surrounded by his former athletes, clapping him on the back, congratulating him on his retirement.
Everyone had to come and pay respect to their beloved Coach Robby. This was meant to be a celebration, a chance to relive exciting, fun times with old schoolmates.
Lana smiled as the sound of Coach Robertson’s boisterous laughter reached her ears. So, Beth Robertson had managed to keep this surprise party a secret. When Lana had called in her RSVP, Beth had told her all of the players from his state championship team had accepted the invite. Lana swallowed hard. All except one.
This was Danny’s team. Her brother wasn’t here because he was in a cold, dark grave.
She smiled welcomingly at Coach Robby as he approached. He gathered her close and gave her a big hug. As he squeezed, cool liquid splashed onto her ankle, his awkward hug having caused wine to spill out of her glass. Dale raised his eyebrows at her over the coach’s shoulder.
“Good to see you, Lana,” Coach said when he pulled back, his words slurred, telling her he’d already indulged in a drink or two before leaving home for what he’d been told was a dinner out with Beth. Lana hadn’t seen Coach since the funeral and was sorry he hadn’t been able to escape the curse of aging men—a rounded belly that hinted at too many beers and not enough exercise.
“Good to see you, too, Coach,” she said. “You were like a father to Dan.”
His smile faded. A flash of something passed through his eyes. Pain? Regret?
Maybe the weight gain stemmed from something else. Like guilt? Eight years ago his body had been toned and muscled, in as good shape as his athletes. The cops had looked at Coach Robertson as a suspect that summer, but his wife had provided an alibi.
And no way. This man would never harm Danny. Coach had loved his star quarterback. Everyone did.
Yet hadn’t there been some conflict about Dan’s grades senior year and a possible benching, which would have ruined the team’s season?
Danny had always bragged about how he didn’t have to work hard at his classes, that all his teachers gave him a free pass. Except Mr. Feldman, the way-too-serious biology teacher. Rumor was that he’d complained to Principal Norton, and Norton had gone to Coach. Funny how Feldman hadn’t returned to Southeast High after the Thanksgiving holiday.
Had he been fired? Did that have something to do with Dan’s grades? That was another lead she needed to look at again.
She’d stick close to Coach tonight. She’d listen and observe as his players paid their respects. Every teammate would talk about Dan at some point. And she’d be listening.
Coach released a sigh. “Dan should be here.”
“Yes,” Lana agreed quietly, hoping her voice didn’t catch. “He should.”
“How is your mother?” Coach asked.
“She’s okay,” Lana lied. “She thought about coming but decided it would be too painful to see Dan’s old friends.”
Coach nodded. “I get that.”
“Coach Robby.”
Chip Peterson moved beside them and shook Coach’s hand.
“Chip. Goddamn. How are you, son?”
“Doing great, sir. Congratulations on your retirement.”
“Still playing ball?”
“No, sir. I’m in my first year of law school at the University of Miami.”
“Weren’t you on the team at U of F? Played wide receiver, I recall.”
“Yes, sir. But I graduated.”
“Didn’t give the pros a whirl?”
“Not good enough, sir.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Danny was the one headed for the NFL,” Chip said.
Lana stepped closer when she heard Danny’s name, evaluating Chip Peterson as the coach and former player caught up. Chip had clenched his jaw when he spoke Danny’s name, but that was to be expected.
Of all the people here, she’d known Chip the longest. She used to call him The Chipper, although he’d hated that nickname. As kids, they’d lived on the same street and played together almost every day.
Until the eighth grade, when she and what was left of her family had moved to a less expensive neighborhood.
She narrowed her eyes. Chip had always been cute, but he’d turned into one fine male specimen. Tall and lean, with muscled shoulders and arms. Streaked blond hair that only came from a lot of time in the sun. Piercing blue eyes.
He and Dan had once been good friends. Best friends, in fact. But they’d had a falling-out during their senior year, an actual fistfight, resulting in a huge crowd, bloody noses and ripped shirts. After that they stopped speaking to each other except when it came to football. And Dan had insisted she stay away from Chip.
Dan would never say what the argument had been about. Because of that, her mother always insisted Chip had been involved in Danny’s murder. More evidence to be reevaluated.
“Hey, Lana,” Chip said, focusing those blue eyes on her. “Didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“No problem, Chip. How’ve you been?”
“Doing good.” Chip turned to her escort. “Chip Peterson,” he said, holding out his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Lana said. “Chip, this is my date, Dale Baldwin.” She’d almost said “Officer” Dale Baldwin.
“Pleased to meet you,” Chip said, giving Dale a long, assessing look.
And what was that about?
Raven-haired Carlos Rodriguez, who’d been a running back, joined their group. Carlos and Coach hugged, slapping each other on the back.
“Carlos, my man,” Chip said as they shook hands.
“What’s up, bro?”
They quickly got involved in a heated discussion about the Dolphins’ new center, and Carlos and Chip moved toward the bar. Gary Shotwell, the team’s manager, arrived next to speak to Coach. Well, well. From the size of his shoulders, redheaded Gary had definitely been hitting the gym. In high school he’d been built more like a track star than a football player. She’d never considered him tight with the guys, but hadn’t Dan always liked Gary? She thought back to a conversation they’d had about him. Dan had said he felt sorry for Gary.
Lana watched the interaction, waiting for Dan to be mentioned. She knew he would be eventually. Her brother had been the heart and soul of this team, the star, the unquestioned leader. His absence was like the proverbial elephant in the room. Impossible to ignore.
Dan had led this team to Southeast Miami High School’s first and only state championship and received a full ride to play ball at the University of Miami. Yes, Danny should be here.
As each guest approached Coach to have a word, Lana made mental notes. As predicted, Dan’s name came up over and over. No doubt bored by talk about things and people he knew nothing about, Dale drifted away to hit on Cindy.
Lana narrowed her eyes as she watched Cindy, remembering how depressed Dan had been when Cindy had broken it off with him the last time. She had to admit the former cheer captain looked damn good tonight. No wonder Dale was smitten.
Evidence suggested the murderer was male, but Cindy had always been athletic and strong. After that last breakup, Dan had started dating a girl from Miami High, and Cindy hadn’t liked that one bit. Jealousy, of course, was a great motive. Lana needed to talk to Cindy. Perhaps she’d participate in that stupid cheer after all.
When Artie Dean arrived, an image of the aggressive way he’d fought for passes thrown by the other team’s quarterback sprang into Lana’s mind. Art’s mouth tightened when Coach mentioned Danny, and she tucked that little grimace away for future reflection. Had Art and Danny been close? She took another tiny sip of wine. She needed to check her old notes. Hadn’t there been some sort of team conflict swirling around Art and Dan?
She reminded herself she was a patient woman. She’d waited eight years to nail the son of a bitch who had killed a young man who was full of promise.
She could wait a little longer.
WATCHING LANA, CHIP PETERSON leaned against the bar. It had been eight years and of course she’d changed, but she was still as pretty as he remembered. No, actually her prettiness had matured into true beauty...and her body had matured, as well. In all the right places.
Her dark hair was shorter now and barely brushed her shoulders. Her deep-set brown eyes missed nothing. Just like when they were kids and playing in her front yard with her little sister and sometimes Dan. He smiled remembering how harshly she’d judged any infraction of the rules, how she’d lectured him about what she considered his reckless skateboarding.
“You interested in Lana?” Carlos asked, following his gaze.
“I’m enjoying the view—that’s for sure,” Chip said.
“She’s still a looker, but don’t get any ideas. Word is she never got over Danny.”
Chip turned to the bar. “Did any of us ever get over Dan’s murder?”
“Amen to that.” Carlos raised his beer mug and took a sip. “I can’t effing believe the cops never arrested anyone. Eight years, man.”
“Had to be a mugging. The thief took his ring.”
“But not his cell phone, I heard,” Carlos pointed out. “What’s up with that?”
“Maybe they got interrupted. Or maybe he was too smart. A cell phone can be traced, give you away.”
“Maybe.” Carlos glanced at his own ring, identical to one that Chip, Danny and every player had received after the state championship game. Chip hadn’t worn his for years, kept it tucked away in a dresser drawer. He hadn’t even thought about digging it out tonight.
“Danny should be here,” Carlos muttered.
Chip silently agreed, although he and Dan hadn’t been close since senior year. Chip stared into his beer, turning his mind away from those particular memories. He once thought he’d marry Lana Lettino, but he knew things about her brother that she didn’t, things that he hadn’t wanted to tell her.
He’d gotten over his infatuation with Lana long ago and had even come close to proposing to his college girlfriend. But Carlos’s warning gave him an idea. Would Lana accept an invite to hash over old times, to see how they felt about each other? Or was it too late for them? He’d been crazy about her in high school. Seeing her brought back a lot of memories.
Apparently this reunion was a night for reminiscing, something he rarely indulged in. What was the point? He preferred to look ahead to the next challenge.
Still, Lana was a great girl and deserved to be happy. He hated to think she was stuck in the past. Did her date treat her right? Chip glanced across the room to where the guy flirted with Cindy Arroyo, and a tug of annoyance made him frown. Cindy’s short skirt and blonder hair than he remembered, along with plenty of cleavage and makeup, suggested she’d wanted to be noticed tonight.
“Didn’t I hear Cindy Arroyo got married?” Chip asked.
“Her divorce was final a few months ago,” Carlos answered. “You should ask her out. You’d have better luck there.”
“Not my type.”
Carlos laughed. “Hell, she’s every man’s type.”
“Even yours?”
“Rosa would kill me if I fooled around.” Carlos placed a hand across his heart. “I am a happily married man.”
“Good for you, bro.”
“Hey, you still fooling around with that rock climbing stuff?”
Chip shrugged. “Occasionally I’ll do an easy climb, but the airfare out West is expensive and law school isn’t cheap.”
“That’s some scary shit, man. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I’ve moved on to other sports,” Chip said, assuming he meant the climbing. Law school was plenty scary, too.
“Like what?” Carlos asked.
“Dude.” Bubba approached and gave Chip a bear hug before he could answer. When the linebacker pulled back, he growled “Dude” again as he hugged Carlos.
“What’s up, Bubba?” Carlos asked with a grin.
“Feeling good,” Bubba said, lifting his almost-empty mug in a toast. “Great to see Coach, huh?”
“Damn right,” Carlos said. “The man is a legend. I’ll never forget that call he made during the Miami High game our senior year.”
“Epic, man,” Bubba agreed and launched into a description of the onside kick that had been mishandled and allowed Southeast to kick the winning field goal.
Chip glanced to where Coach stood with his wife. Lana remained glued to his side, as if she were standing guard, listening intently to every conversation. Strange. Yeah, everyone loved Coach Robby, but he hadn’t realized she was so tight with the old guy. Actually, from what he could tell, no one knew what Lana had been doing since high school other than she’d graduated from Florida International University. What was her degree in? Where was she working?
No question Carlos was the team’s official gossip, but how the hell did he know she was still hung up on the loss of her brother? She was here with a date, even if the date all but ignored her. Chip took a swallow of beer. Yeah, he was always up for a challenge.
Murmuring an excuse to Bubba and Carlos, Chip moved toward her. This was the perfect opportunity to spark something with her.
“Lana,” he said to get her attention.
She turned away from Coach. Her dark eyes widened when she recognized him. “Hey again.”
“I meant to ask earlier about your sister. How is she?”
A huge grin split her face. “Sandy is a mother. Can you believe it?”
“So, you’re an aunt.”
She nodded. “Mikey is four. How about your sister?”
“Married and with two rug rats.”
“That’s great,” she said. “Tell her I said hello. How about you? Married?”
“Nope, and I don’t have anything steady going on, either.” Chip motioned with his chin toward Lana’s date. “Is that serious?”
“Hardly,” she said, her voice filled with mock horror. “He’s a friend helping out a dateless pal.”
“I find it hard to believe you can’t get a date.”
Her smile faded. “I’m not much interested in dating.”
“Why is that?”
She looked away and shrugged without replying.
So maybe Carlos’s report was right on, and she was still screwed up over Dan. Yeah, he’d been her brother, but it had been eight years. Wasn’t that enough time to grieve? An awkward silence fell between them.
“How’s your mom?” he asked to spur the conversation back to life. He could still ask her out. He was just the guy to drag Lana into the present.
Her mouth tightened. “The same. Bitter, alone and making everyone around her miserable.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Are your parents still gloriously in love?”
He nodded. “Disgusting, isn’t it?”
“No,” she said with a tinge of wistfulness. “Lucky.”
“Listen, how about dinner next week?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Wh-what?”
“Don’t look so surprised. I’m asking you out for dinner and a few drinks. We could catch up.”
“Oh,” she said. “I don’t—”
Cindy appeared at Lana’s side and tugged her arm. “Come on, Lana. It’s time.”
An expression of relief washed over Lana’s face.
“Sorry, Chip,” she said. “Gotta go.”
Obviously ecstatic to escape a hurtling bullet, she hurried away with members of her old cheering squad.
Everyone turned toward the center of the room, where the ex-cheerleaders lined up, preparing to do their thing. Chip shook his head at the sight of the twins, Tina and Rena, who’d even managed to squeeze into their old purple-and-white uniforms.
Hands on her hips, Lana pasted on a smile he recognized as fake, but she went through the crisp motions without missing a beat. He downed the last of his beer. God, but she did look good.
He’d given it a go. She wasn’t interested.
Was it because of something her brother had said to her years ago? Probably. Chip wasn’t sorry for what had gone down—he’d done it to protect Lana—but Dan had been beyond furious and had put a swift end to any chance Chip ever had with her.
Too bad. But, hell, he didn’t have time to get something started with her or anyone else. Law school was eating up every dime and every second of his time. That was where his focus needed to be for the next three years.
Not on a crush from his high school days.