about my being a magnet for bullies? Well, she must have had the strongest magnetic field of all because she was the worst. She was a witch.”
“Well, ding-dong, the witch is dead.”
Michelle’s jaw dropped as a confusing tumble of emotions swirled through her brain. “I—I didn’t mean… I’d never wish…”
Colin skimmed his fingertips along her cheek. “I know that. Nobody in town knew about her death?”
“The Frank family wasn’t local. They moved here Belinda’s sophomore year and then moved out after she graduated. Nobody could even locate her to send an invitation to the reunion.”
“One of the reasons they couldn’t locate her is because she changed her name to Gigi French.”
“Gigi French? Sounds like a hooker.”
“She worked as a stripper in Vegas.”
Michelle ran a hand through her tangled hair and closed her eyes. “How did she die?”
“Someone slit her throat and then showered her with rose petals.”
Choking, Michelle hid her face in her hands. “They don’t know who did it? How’d you get involved?”
“No. A buddy of mine on the Las Vegas P.D. called me because he saw the Coral Cove connection. Thought I might have known her, but she started at CCHS after I graduated. I didn’t think much about it until Tiffany Gunderson fell down that elevator shaft in San Francisco. I knew the Gunderson family, so I recognized the name.”
“But Tiffany’s death was an accident, wasn’t it?”
“I figured it was when I first heard about it, but I thought it was a weird coincidence that two young women from the same small-town high school had died violent deaths less than a month apart. So I contacted the SFPD about Tiffany’s accident, and suddenly the two deaths didn’t look like a coincidence.”
“Why?” Michelle drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs to keep them from bouncing.
“Both women graduated the same year…and there were rose petals in the elevator shaft.”
Michelle leaned her forehead on her knees, not even minding the pain from her bruises. “So the FBI sent you back home to investigate?”
Colin cleared his throat. “Not exactly.”
Turning her head to the side, Michelle asked, “What does that mean?”
“Technically, I’m on vacation. The FBI didn’t send me here.”
“Great. So this is all off the record and below the radar?”
“That’s right.”
“But now that the killer has struck again, this could be a case for the FBI. A serial killer in different states? Sounds like a job for the Feds to me.”
Colin stretched his arms above his head and yawned, and Michelle’s gaze dropped to the muscles shifting across his chest and bunching his shoulders. He looked even better than he had as a cocky teenager.
“It might be a job for the Feds, but not necessarily for this Fed. The FBI doesn’t usually assign agents to cases in their hometowns.”
“What are you going to do?” Michelle sucked in a breath and held it. She didn’t want another agent on the case. She wanted Colin Roarke to stay right here in Coral Cove. In fact, she wanted him camping outside her house.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m staying on vacation in Coral Cove, but I can use a little help since I won’t be with my regular partner. Do you have any idea why someone might be killing the female graduates of your class?”
“Me?” Michelle’s voice squeaked in a totally embarrassing manner. “You want my help?”
He tapped the side of his head. “You were the smartest girl in your class. Can you think of any reason why these three were targeted?”
“I have no idea. Tiffany and Amanda hung out with the same crowd and were both cheerleaders, but Belinda wasn’t really part of that group.” She slid her legs from beneath her and propped her feet on the coffee table. “Besides, you’re asking the wrong CCHS Dolphin. I didn’t hang with that crowd, either, and I don’t know what they might have been into. I didn’t become Amanda’s friend until later.”
“But you know who was in that clique. Can you give me a list of names?”
“Sure.” Michelle’s heart skipped a few beats at the thought of helping Colin with this case. She wanted Amanda’s killer brought to justice, and she had every confidence Colin was the man to do it.
Colin pointed to the weak light pressing against the front windows. “We’ve been up all night. I don’t know about you, but I usually need some sleep before I can function. Will you be okay here alone?”
“I’ll be fine.” Michelle scrambled from the couch. “Like you said, it’s morning, and once the news of Amanda’s murder gets out, Coral Cove Drive is going to resemble Grand Central Station. I probably won’t be alone here for days.”
“That’s a good thing.” Colin snapped his gun bag around his waist and shuffled toward the door. Grabbing the handle he turned and she almost ran into his chest. “Be careful, Michelle. You may not have run with that bunch, but you graduated with them.”
Michelle twisted her fingers in front of her. “I’ll be careful, and you need to find Amanda’s killer. She didn’t deserve that.” She waved a hand toward the street, tears pooling in her eyes, her nose stinging.
Colin hugged her, drawing her head onto his comfortable shoulder. Closing her eyes, Michelle wound her arms around his waist. He smelled tangy and fresh like the sea.
She mumbled into his chest. “Thanks for everything, Colin. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through this night without you.”
He drew back and wiped a tear from her face with the rough pad of his thumb. “I don’t know. I think I might have added to your grief and pain.”
“No. If I’m going to help Amanda, I need to know everything. And if I’m a target for this maniac, I need to know that, too.”
“You’ve turned into quite a woman, Michelle Girard.” He touched his finger to her nose, dropped it to her lips and then stepped into the overcast morning.
A few hours of fitful sleep later, Michelle stumbled into her bathroom to shower and then changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The events of last night seemed like a dream, and she crept to her front window to make sure it had all really happened.
She staggered and clutched the windowsill as the reality of Amanda’s murder hit her like a wrecking ball to the gut. A crowd of people ringed the police tape, staring at the bloodstain on the street. Amanda’s blood.
She wanted to scream at them, shoo away the vultures. While she’d been sleeping, she’d heard her doorbell ring and a few knocks on the door. They’d question her endlessly about last night.
Michelle rubbed her eyes and retreated to her kitchen, where she cooked some eggs and made toast. Once she’d eaten, she wrapped her hands around a cup of steaming tea and tiptoed to her front door again and peeked out the window.
People still mingled in the street, forming clutches of gossip groups and then breaking apart to form new groups. Michelle took a few steadying breaths before opening her front door. She’d have to face them sooner or later.
She stepped onto her front porch, taking a sip of fragrant, hot tea. The overcast morning looked a little brighter than it had the past few weeks, giving hope that the sun might struggle through today. Would Colin have another look at Columbella House by the light of day? She wanted to be there with him.
She squinted as a news van parked on the street. The newshounds sure hadn’t wasted