who’d spoken. “Any suspicious death is investigated as a homicide until foul play is ruled out.”
Alex had apparently fallen. Or been pushed. Her gaze followed the side of the stucco building to a curved balcony, its wrought-iron railing thirteen or fourteen feet up. Situated halfway between Chiefland and Bronson, the Mediterranean Revival-style structure had likely been someone’s home. But during her lifetime, it had been a venue for weddings and other events. Tonight, Amber hadn’t gone upstairs. Their group had booked only the bottom floor.
So what had Alex been doing up there?
She straightened and draped her arm across Liv’s shoulders. The wails had quieted to sniffles, but shivers still shook her body.
“Did you see what happened?”
Liv shook her head. “I hadn’t been here long.”
Amber nodded. That would explain why they hadn’t seen each other.
Liv continued. “It was so crowded inside, I came out here to be alone. That’s when I found him.”
Amber scanned those gathered. Other classmates were now filing out of the building. The police would need to talk to all of them. Of course, almost everyone had been inside, like her, and probably hadn’t seen anything.
As she studied the faces around her, one man snagged her gaze. He was standing to the side. The glow of the garden lights didn’t reach his face, but she didn’t need to see him to know he was watching her. She could feel it. The hostility rolling toward her was almost palpable.
Logan Cleary. Anytime she came back to Chiefland, she tried to avoid him. Although she hadn’t been ready to leave her friends, moving to Ocala right after graduation had been a relief.
“He blames us, you know.”
Amber started at hearing a new voice close to her ear and frowned at Vince Mahoney. “He blames me.”
“He blames all of us.”
She crossed her arms, warding off a sudden chill in spite of the balmy June night. Vince and the others were part of the gang, but she was the one who’d sent the texts, inviting Logan’s brother to join them at their hangout in the woods. Landon Cleary had been a class-A jerk. But even after she’d learned the truth, she hadn’t wanted him dead.
She dropped her arm from Liv’s shoulders and cast a glance at Alex. Caleb was doing a good job of preserving the scene. No one had ventured near the body. She started to turn away then hesitated. Something white was caught in the branches of a shrub a few feet from where Alex lay. Paper? She pressed her purse against her side, unease chewing at the edges of her mind.
When she’d been in the bathroom earlier, someone had slid a sheet of paper, folded in quarters, under the stall door. Black sequined ballet slippers and a hand covered by a black silk glove were all she’d seen. No one at the reunion was wearing either.
She put a hand on Vince’s arm. “Did someone give you a sheet of paper tonight?”
His eyes widened, providing the answer before he opened his mouth. “I was standing at the bar talking to someone. When I went to pick up my drink, a sheet of paper was sitting next to it.”
Raymond Ellis staggered up to join them. Not much had changed. He was as wasted as he’d been when they’d hung out in high school.
She turned her attention to Vince. “What did the paper say?”
“‘All of life’s pleasures surround you.’” He studied her. “You got one, too.”
She nodded. “‘A sworn public servant, you’ve answered the call.’”
“You’re a cop.”
It wasn’t a secret. When she’d first arrived, she’d caught up with everyone except Liv, and they’d filled each other in on their lives. Raymond worked as a mechanic in a tire-and-lube place, and Alex was a trim carpenter. Vince had scored big. He’d married into money and had a cushy management job in his father-in-law’s manufacturing business. He was probably enjoying some of those pleasures mentioned in his note.
Ray squinted at them. “What are you talking about?”
“Someone slipped us notes,” Amber said. “One line about each of our lives.”
“I didn’t get anything.” After patting his back pockets, Ray produced a piece of paper. His brows drew together. “I didn’t know I had this.” After unfolding the single page, he read it aloud. “‘Once you were bound, but now you’re free.’”
Vince wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ray had suddenly sobered up. “I did a couple years for drug charges. Not many people know about it. I was living in Georgia.”
Amber turned. “Liv?”
Liv spun around, eyes filled with panic. “My purse. I had it when I came into the garden.”
Amber put a hand on her shoulder. “You probably dropped it when you found Alex. I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”
Sirens sounded in the distance, gradually increasing in volume. When the police arrived, the contents of those notes were going into the report, regardless of what her friends wanted.
Caleb approached and handed Liv a black clutch. “It was under a bush.”
She snapped open the small bag and looked inside. “I have no idea who put this in here.”
“Wait.” Amber held up a hand. “Maybe they can get prints.” Vince, Raymond and she had already handled their notes. But Liv, and possibly Alex, hadn’t.
Ray frowned. “Someone knows a lot about us.”
“You know what’s really creepy?” Vincent lowered his voice, his tone ominous. “A month ago, someone pretending to be Mona messaged me on Facebook, begging me to come here.”
Ray’s eyes widened. “Me, too.”
Liv nodded and Amber sighed. “I think we all received the same messages.”
Flashes of blue and red tugged her gaze to the shaded drive, where two emergency vehicles moved toward them.
Someone had lured them all here. Now they each had a piece of paper bearing a single line of print.
And one of them had died tonight. Whatever had happened to Alex, the notes tied the five of them together. Monday morning, she’d ask some questions.
First would be how did Ramona Freeborn die?
* * *
Caleb opened the door to the white RAV4 and watched Amber slide into the driver’s seat. “Thanks for your help tonight.”
She gave him a tired smile. “No problem. I figured you guys could use an extra body.”
Yeah, they could have used two or three. But he and Amber, plus the four other law enforcement personnel who’d arrived, had managed to talk to everyone and get whatever information they could. Which wasn’t much. No one had seen anyone go up or down the stairs, and no one had witnessed O’Dell fall.
Now, at a few minutes past eleven, the remaining guests were back inside, a shocked sense of loss overshadowing their earlier revelry. The body had been removed, but Crime Scene was still there, combing the area for evidence.
And he was officially on the clock. After four years with Levy County, he’d finally made his goal of being assigned to the Criminal Investigations Division. But being the low guy on the totem pole, he was stuck with the night shift. He was getting used to it. Strong coffee helped.
He pulled a pen and pad from his shirt pocket. He’d retrieved both from his glove box earlier. “I can reach you through Cedar Key, but how about giving me your cell number?” When he’d finished jotting it down, he scrawled his own number and tore the sheet from the pad. “Call me with