a large, flat box protruding from the top at an angle. She’d gone with a forty-inch. Anything bigger wouldn’t have fit on the shelf in her entertainment center.
As she moved down the center lane, she glanced around, an uneasy caution tightening her shoulders. The same uneasiness had plagued her since her meeting with Caleb. Mona was dead, brutally murdered. Alex’s death probably wasn’t an accident, either. Based on the poem, the rest of them were all marked. The question was, “Who’s next?”
She dragged in a shaky breath and pressed her key fob. Several spaces away, the lights on her RAV4 flashed and the security system beeped. Soon she’d be loaded up and locked safely inside. From now on, she wouldn’t go anywhere without her weapon, whether on duty or not.
After sliding the box into the back of her vehicle, she straightened to shut the door. Her heart stuttered. Logan Cleary stood at the driver’s-side front quarter panel, arms crossed.
“Hello, Amber.” He pushed her name off his tongue as if it were something distasteful, then moved toward her, blocking her path to the door.
Her pulse raced and moisture coated her palms. She squared her shoulders. Whether she was armed or not, he’d have to be stupid to try accosting her at Walmart in broad daylight.
“What do you want, Logan?”
“I want a lot of things. A filet mignon dinner. Tickets to the Super Bowl.” He rested a shoulder against her vehicle. “Justice.”
“I’m sorry about Landon, but I had nothing to do with that.”
“You can’t deny those texts.”
“I invited him to hang out with us.”
“You lured him there, and your friends beat him up. What happened? Did a dare go bad? Did he cross one of you?”
“Logan, go home, or I’ll call for security.” She’d tried to talk to him shortly after Landon was killed. But he hadn’t wanted to hear it. Ten years later, he still wasn’t listening.
He pushed himself away from her vehicle. “I’ll leave you alone for now. But know this. What goes around comes around. Sometimes it takes a while, but eventually karma has her way.” He pivoted to walk away. “Two down, four to go.” Though his back was turned, the words reached her, chilling her all the way to the core.
“Is that a confession?”
He hesitated, stiffening. When he turned around, the tension was gone. The usual cockiness emanated from him. “There’s nothing for me to confess. But someone’s making sure you guys pay for what you did. I’m just waiting for it to happen.”
She climbed into her SUV but didn’t pull from the space. Two down, four to go. It hadn’t taken Logan long to realize he’d said too much. Was he taking vengeance for his brother’s death or was he waiting for someone else to do it, as he’d claimed?
She watched him cross the lot and get into a red pickup. After he drove away, she shifted her vehicle into Reverse. Landon’s death had been tragic. Whatever he’d done, he hadn’t deserved to die in the way he had. No doubt his murder had left a hole in the lives of those who loved him. A hole his twin brother would feel for the rest of his life. And she’d unwittingly played a part, however small.
The fact that she hadn’t intended Landon harm didn’t matter to Logan. He’d charged, tried and convicted her.
All over a few innocent texts.
* * *
Caleb approached the double glass doors leading into the Gathering Table, a file folder tucked under one arm. According to the text Amber had sent him, she was already inside, along with Vincent and Raymond. Olivia hadn’t arrived yet.
He stepped into the popular restaurant and scanned the large room. It wasn’t crowded. Midafternoon on a Monday, it was too late for the lunch crowd but too early for the dinner crowd.
Meeting for a meal wasn’t the usual way he conducted interviews. But these weren’t typical witnesses. They were former classmates, although more acquaintances than friends. He had a dual purpose in bringing them together: to reiterate what he’d learned about Ramona and the danger they were in, and to find out what they’d done to make themselves targets. The latter was more likely to happen in the relaxed setting of the restaurant than in an interrogation room at the station.
As he made his way toward a double table at one edge of the room, Amber held up a hand and waved. He claimed the empty chair next to her and she flashed him a friendly smile.
“You know Ray and Vince. This is Vince’s wife, Jessica.”
He extended a hand across the table. When Amber had called him to finalize plans for their meeting, she’d told him Vince’s wife would be with him. It was probably for the best. She could be in as much danger as her husband.
The glass door swung open and Olivia stepped inside. She gave an enthusiastic wave before moving toward them, shoulders back and head high. But there was tension in her features and a stiffness in her gait. The stress was wearing on her already.
She plopped into the chair next to Raymond. “Sorry I’m late. I probably had the shortest drive of any of you, and I’m the last one here. Go figure.”
They’d decided on Chiefland as the place to meet, not because Caleb lived there, but because it was the most centralized. Raymond lived thirty-five minutes south, in the small town of Inglis, and Liv was only fifteen minutes west in Bronson. Amber, of course, came from Cedar Key, also a thirty-five-minute drive.
Vincent Mahoney was the only one who’d moved away from Levy County permanently. But since he and his wife had met a customer in Chiefland earlier, the location had been convenient for them, also.
After bringing drinks, the waitress left with their order of appetizers to share.
Vincent grinned at Amber. “I was hoping for some peanut butter cookies, but they weren’t on the menu.”
“Celery smeared with peanut butter.” Raymond gave Amber a teasing punch to the shoulder. “That makes a great snack, too.”
Amber frowned, but there was humor in the gesture. “No one gets to watch me swell up and turn blotchy today. You’ll have to find your entertainment elsewhere.”
Vincent turned to his wife. “Amber has a terrible allergy to anything containing peanuts. Can’t get anywhere near the stuff.”
As they waited for their food to arrive, conversation turned serious. Caleb reached for the manila folder. “I assume someone from the sheriff’s office has brought you all up to speed.”
They each nodded and he continued. “Then you’re aware Ramona Freeborn was murdered. Someone hauled her into the woods and took a baseball bat to her.”
Olivia gasped and brought her hands to her mouth. Raymond and Vincent cringed. Someone had apparently left out that detail.
Vincent shook his head, frowning. “So was Alex murdered, too?”
“We don’t have a definitive answer yet, but it’s a possibility, especially in light of the messages you each received.” He opened the folder and read the six lines. “Individually, they’re meaningless. But when read as a whole, ending with Ramona’s, the threat is obvious. Someone has targeted you, seeking vigilante justice. So far, it looks like he’s been successful twice.” He paused to look at each of them. Every face registered concern. Raymond’s right leg bounced up and down, the movement radiating into his torso. A touch of wildness had crept into his eyes.
Caleb rested his forearms on the table, his fingers entwined. “Any idea who or why?”
Before anyone could answer, the waitress returned with their drinks.
Leaving his straw on the table, Raymond chugged several swallows of his Coke, then jabbed a hand through his stringy, dishwater-blond bangs. They fell right back onto his forehead. “This is about Landon Cleary.” He clutched