Sebastian Castillo couldn’t believe his eyes. Standing on the deck was the woman who had shattered his heart into a thousand pieces.
Her face was pinched, her cheeks flushed with color, her lips drawn thin. Her once unmanageable, frizzy brown hair fell down her back in a smooth waterfall of inky black.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, although what he really wanted was to shove his hands into her lush hair, draw her close, and kiss her senseless. Years spent rooting all traces of affection from his heart, and with a single glance, she brought it all rushing back.
Focus. You’re here for a reason.
His sister had left a cryptic note on his windshield asking to meet at the house, and he had to find her and stop her before she did something she would regret.
Elena glanced to the side, and he followed her gaze to the pool.
To the body floating in the pool.
“Chloe!”
He burst into movement, sprinting across the deck and descending the stairs three steps at a time. His vision narrowed to the task at hand. He missed the first paving stone and slipped on the gravel that made up the walkway from the deck to the pool. He hit the ground hard, then scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pebbles embedded in his palms.
“I’m coming, Chloe. Hang on!” His voice broke on a sob.
So close now. Only a few more steps.
He stopped at the edge of the pool and dove into the icy water. The resulting wave pushed Chloe out of his grasp. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to the surface.
That’s when the smell hit him. A powerful stench that burned the last ounce of hope from his heart.
He turned her over and his mouth filled with a sick-sour tang at how wrong she looked. Her eyes were cloudy, her skin had a blue cast, and her makeup was smeared like she’d been crying. She stared up at him in unblinking accusation as if to say, why didn’t you help me? Where were you when I needed you?
His throat tightened. He pushed a lock of hair from his sister’s face and cupped her frozen cheek in his hand.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?”
Her dead body provided no answers.
He hugged her, then took a staggering breath and tugged her to the edge of the pool, where Elena waited. When she saw Chloe’s face, she moaned and pressed her fists to her face.
“Help me get her out of here,” he said.
They grasped Chloe’s arms and legs and lifted her onto the pavement.
Seeing her on the ground was almost worse. She was covered in leaves and flecks of algae, and her dress was hiked up past her knees. He tugged the garment back into place, covering a jagged scar on her thigh.
He remembered the day she got it with startling clarity. He’d left the house after an argument with his parents to go to his usual smoking spot at the base of an old deer stand, deep in the woods. Stewing with anger at whatever petty grievance he had with his mother, he failed to notice Chloe following him. She scrambled up the rickety ladder, then laughed at his attempts to get her to come down. She didn’t see the crack forming in the log beneath her legs. He begged her to listen, but she only laughed harder. Then the wood had cleaved apart, sending her tumbling to the ground.
He could still hear her scream.
You couldn’t save her then, either.
“Oh, God,” Elena whispered. She fell to her knees on the concrete beside Chloe’s head and lifted the wet hair from her neck to reveal four lines of reddish-brown marks.
Until that moment, his mind had been fixed into the pattern of a tragic accident. Chloe had never been good with water. He’d tried to convince her to learn to swim so many times, but she’d always pushed it off. But when he saw the bruises, the truth of what had really happened bore down on him like a freight train. He slammed his closed fist down on the concrete, grunting as his skin split at the contact.
It wasn’t an accident. Someone did this to her.
“What do we do?” Elena clasped her hands together. “We call someone. Right? We call the cops?”
Instead of answering, Sebastian retrieved his phone from his damp pants, grateful for the waterproof case, and dialed 911.
“Stillwood police station,” a female voice answered. “How may I direct your call?”
He stared down at his little sister through a haze of unshed tears. He’d never see her walk down the aisle or hold a niece or nephew in his arms. His whole life had revolved around family. First as a young adult, taking care of his grief-stricken parents until they sickened and died. Then a seamless transition to watching out for his sister, gently guiding her through her college years. Even as an adult, she’d needed him. Only a few weeks earlier he’d had to undo the damage of a professional swindler who had wrapped her up in so many layers of fantasy she hadn’t even realized how much of her savings she’d given away. He still had nightmares about that.
What am I going to do now?
Through the phone, there was a creak of a chair reclining. “Hello?”
“It’s me, Sandra,” he said, finally. “I need you to send someone up to the Cain house. It’s Chloe. S-he,” he cleared his throat. “There’s been an incident.”
He answered Sandra’s litany of questions, then said goodbye and hit disconnect.
Elena touched his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
He placed his hand over hers and squeezed. As strange as it was to be seeing her again after so long, her presence was soothing, like a balm on his scarred heart.
But what is she doing here? A suspicious part of his mind whispered.
He released her fingers and schooled his face into a stony mask before facing her. “Tell me you had nothing to do with this.”
Her expression twisted in a look of abject horror. “How can you even ask that? She was like family to me.”
He didn’t stop to think if it was a good idea. He just said the first words that popped into his mind. “That didn’t stop your mother.”
She turned her back, and the sniffing that followed made him want to kick himself.
She’s back for ten minutes, and already you’re pushing her away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line.”
“It’s fine,” she replied. Then she crouched next to Chloe’s body. “What do you think she was doing here?”
He sighed. “She loved this house. She said she could still feel Edward here.”
His chest ached as he recalled his last conversation with his sister. Someone at the station had given her access to Edward’s file. He’d begged her to let go of the past, and instead, she’d shoved autopsy photographs in his face. Things had been tense between them ever since.
You’ll never get to apologize. She’s dead, and it’s all your fault.
Elena touched his arm, sympathy shining from her eyes. “Are you okay?”
He slammed the door on his emotions. “I’m fine.”
The wail of a siren cut through the biting wind, making them both jump.
“That was fast,” she said, and he mumbled his agreement. The station was miles away.
They walked around the side of the house as a patrol car barreled down the driveway, lights flashing, throwing up a cloud of dust. It screeched to a stop, and a uniformed officer stepped out. He spotted them and raised a hand in salute.
Sebastian copied the gesture, but Elena did not. She swayed back and forth, inches from the edge of the hill. That’s when it hit him. It was too late to save his sister, but there was still someone he had to protect. He wrapped a hand around her elbow and ushered her back to the house. Once they were inside, she darted down a hallway, then returned with a heaping pile of towels, which she dropped in front of him.
He toweled himself mostly dry, then sat across from her at the small table. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”
She turned her head toward the window. “I’m not staying. I’m just here to sell the house.”
And sever the only thing left connecting her to Stillwood.
“Why?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. “People have moved on. It’s been a long time since—” Memories flashed back. Chloe screaming, sirens blaring, his parents sobbing on the couch.
She scowled. “You can say it. Since my mother killed your brother.”
Silence fell between them until it was broken by the sound of splintering wood at the front of the house. He jogged to the front door and opened it.
Standing with his foot clean through a rotten board was the one person he had hoped not to see.
Why did it have to be Roth?
Watery gray eyes passed over Sebastian and focused over his shoulder. The man tugged free, stepped around Sebastian, and stuck out a hand.
“Ma’am. I’m Detective Roth. Stillwood Police Department.”
Elena hesitated, then accepted the handshake. “Elena Cain.”
Sebastian ground his molars together at the blatant dismissal. “Why did they send you?”
Roth shot him a dark look. “I was in the area. Dispatch said there’s a body?”
Sebastian gestured to the door. “Near the pool. Come on.”
Roth straightened his uniform, then followed them through the house and out the deck to the pool.
So, it began. What were they doing before finding the body? Had they seen anyone else? The questions were achingly familiar, drawing Sebastian back to the night the cops had questioned him at the station about his brother.
When he finished, Roth crouched down and peered at Chloe’s neck.
“She was strangled, wasn’t she?” Elena gulped. “Those bruises, they’re finger marks.”
“Might be,” Roth said as he jotted down notes. “Wouldn’t be the first.” He flipped his notebook closed and stood. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Castillo. Truly, I am. But I need you both to come with me to the station so we can record your statements.”
“No!” Elena burst out. Then her cheeks reddened. “I mean, why? Can’t you take our statements here?”
Roth shook his head. “Until the coroner determines the cause of death, I have to consider this a homicide.”
Sebastian watched the rise and fall of Elena’s chest. Was it something about cops? She looked like a rabbit staring down the end of a rifle.
“We can meet you at the station, Roth,” Sebastian said. “I’m sure you have things to do here.”
Roth scowled. “And have you leave town the minute I look away? I wasn’t born yesterday, Castillo.”
Elena clutched his arm and whispered in his ear, “Please, Bast. There’s something about that man. I don’t want to get in a car with him.” Her eyes were so wide he could see the whites all the way around her pupils.
Is that what Chloe looked like at the end?
He imagined his sister looking into the face of the man who had killed her. Had she begged for her life? Had she called out his name in the end?
Did you blame me for not being there for you, sister?
His heart ached at the thought, and he curled his arms protectively around Elena, pulled her into his chest, tucked her head into his shoulder. “I won’t make you go with him,” he murmured into his hair. He squeezed her tight and glared at the detective. “We wouldn’t get five minutes out of town before someone reported us, Roth, and you know it. Don’t make me call the sheriff.”
Roth’s glower darkened, but he nodded. “Fine. If you insist. I need to wait for the coroner, anyway. Go right to the station. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”
Then Roth took out his radio and walked away.
“Thank you,” Elena said, winding her arms around his back. She squeezed once before putting her palms on his chest and pressing lightly. He dropped his arms to his side, even as he longed to pull her close so he could breathe in the scent of her hair, feel her body snug against his.
“Ms. Cain!” Roth shouted.
Sebastian jerked his neck to the side. “What now?”
“She has to leave her car until it’s been processed.”
Elena looked crestfallen. “I see.” She removed her keys from her pocket, but they slipped out of her shaking fingers and landed with a splat on the wet ground. Sebastian picked them up, shook off the mud, then handed them back.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll drive.”