In the Arms of Stone Angels

chapter five


Hours Later

Looking down from a second-floor window of the Seaver home, Derek was the first to spot her. Brenna’s mother had pulled into the driveway and screeched to a stop. She threw the Subaru into Park with the engine running and the headlights on. And when she got out of the vehicle, she left the driver door open. He got a good look at her face when she crossed in front of the headlights. And she looked pissed.

“Oh, shit.” He pushed his way through the people on the landing and the stairs. “Make a hole. Get out of my way.” By the time the doorbell rang, he was there to answer it.

“Hey there, Mrs—” Before he finished, Mrs. Nash shoved by him.

“Where’s Brenna? She was supposed to call me to pick her up. She’s past her curfew.” The woman searched the faces of the stragglers in the living room. The party was winding down.

“Brenna? I saw her leave two hours ago. She hitched a ride with some motorcycle dude.”

“A biker? How did a biker know about this party?” The woman looked shocked.

“You know how it is. Those guys come off Route 66. When they hit town, they’re looking for a good time. The word gets out. I’m sure they weren’t invited.”

“What did this guy look like?”

“I never paid much attention until they took off. I really think him and a buddy crashed the party. That’s what I heard after Brenna left with them.” He shrugged, knowing he had her full attention. “I’d seen them when they first walked in, but those biker dudes got a little rowdy later on. One of the girls at the party asked me to get rid of them, but by the time I got there, the jerks had split. That’s when I saw Brenna take off with them.”

“No, that’s not right. Why would she do that?” The woman shook her head, but he could tell she had doubts about her daughter when her voice cracked. “We had an arrangement. I was supposed to pick her up. She was going to call me.”

“I don’t know anything about that, ma’am. Maybe she forgot. She was pretty hammered.”

When she turned to him in shock, he kept his eyes on hers.

“She was drinking?” she asked. “Where’d she get the alcohol?”

“I don’t know. Maybe from those guys,” he said. “You need me to do anything? I’d help you look, but my parents are expecting me home.”

Brenna’s mom ran a hand through her hair and heaved a sigh. “I don’t know where to look. And she doesn’t answer her phone.” She looked like she was about to cry. “Are Chloe’s parents here? I need to talk to them.”

“They’re not here. They’re in Texas somewhere. On business, I think.”

“You mean there wasn’t an adult here?”

“No, ma’am, but nothing happened. A few kids, like Brenna, were blowing off steam with summer bein’ here, but I swear the party was pretty low-key.” Derek got in front of her and touched her shoulder. “You’re not gonna get Chloe in trouble, are you? She was trying to do Brenna a solid by inviting her to the party. If it’ll help, I can call my uncle and we’ll all look for your daughter. Just say the word.”

At the mention of his uncle, Sheriff Logan, Mrs. Nash got real quiet, like he figured she would.

“No, that won’t be necessary.” And when she turned to leave, she said, “At least I hope not.”

Brenna’s mother left in a hurry and didn’t look back. Derek stood on the doorstep and watched her drive away. And as she gunned it down the street, he cut loose with a smile and went looking for Jade.



With the party winding down, boredom had taken over and Jade went looking for someone to mess with, the way Heather used to do with her. And knowing Chloe, that chick had more than weed stashed in her room. The girl was quiet, but she had her secrets. And ever since Brenna Nash had come back to town, she’d been unconcerned and distant. Jade needed something new to hold over her head to keep her in line.

She’d slipped into Chloe’s bedroom and closed the door behind her so she could take time rummaging through her drawers and under her bed. Most of what she’d found didn’t add up to much, until she got to the armoire.

One deep drawer was locked.

“What the hell—” She grimaced and went looking for the key in Chloe’s jewelry box on the dresser. When she didn’t find it there, she tried a few more places and came up empty. But when Jade ran her fingers along the back of the armoire, she found a small key hanging on a hook near the base. She would have missed it if she hadn’t lost her balance. Her hand brushed against the key by accident.

“Nice.” She smiled.

After she’d unlocked the drawer, she was disappointed to see that was where Chloe kept her stash of weed, mixed in with more lingerie. Jade had hoped for something really juicy.

“Damn it. What’s the big deal, Chloe? You’re such a friggin’ tease.”

In frustration, she slammed the drawer shut, but something didn’t feel right. The drawer felt heavier than it should have been, if it only held lingerie, a few rolled joints and a lighter in a Baggie.

“Hold on. What’s up with that?”

When Jade looked at the dimensions of the drawer, they were off, too. It should have been deeper than it was.

“Oh, clever girl.” Jade grinned.

Whatever Chloe had hidden beneath her stash had to be good. It took her a moment to figure out that the whole top drawer lifted out. And when Jade set the fake drawer aside, she knew she had hit the mother lode of Chloe’s secrets.

“Holy shit!” She gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh. My. God.”

The whole drawer glittered with Lucas Quinn. His face was everywhere.

Chloe had promo flyers where Lucas’s band had played, tickets where she had probably attended the performance without talking to the guy and scraps of crumpled paper with his handwriting on it. From the looks of it, the paper had ideas for a song that he probably wrote and trashed. Chloe had obviously taken his notes from the garbage. She’d scrapbooked other mementos with glitter, like some lovesick puppy.

“You are really sick,” she whispered. “A terminal case of pitiful.”

Chloe had gone far past rational. She had photos of Lucas. Real candid stuff that meant she’d been following him, day and night. She’d even used Photoshop to splice digitals of them together. How weird was that? The girl had gone way beyond crushing on the poor bastard. She was seriously stalking him, for real.

Chloe even had bags of Lucas’s hair. She must have scarfed it off the stylist’s floor. The date, time and all sorts of details were labeled and tied onto the strand. Four Baggies in total. And one plastic bag had brown goop that held the hair together. That one had a sticker on it that read, 4 LUCAS, in caps.

She must have been collecting his hair for years and numbered what she kept. Jade shook her head as she tossed back the Baggie. It would take her days to look at everything Chloe had stashed in her secret drawer.

But one thing caught her eye.

Buried under tons of sappy memorabilia meant as a tribute to Lucas Quinn was a hardcover book. It had a photo of his face smiling back on the cover, with glitter and lace in a heart shape around it.

“Oh, come to Mama.” Jade pulled out the book and flipped through the pages. When she recognized Chloe’s handwriting and read a few entries, she knew she’d found the best secret of all.

Chloe was keeping a journal.

When she found Lucas’s name on a random page, Jade read a few lines that caught her eye.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life… The day when I first saw Lucas Quinn… The look on my face must’ve been priceless. But I knew in that moment, we had connected on a higher level. Even as I’m writing this, I keep repeating his name… I just love the way it rolls off my tongue… Lucas



Quinn… Lucas Quinn. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow.

“Oh, brother.” Jade rolled her eyes and ran her fingers down the page. “Utterly hopeless.”

But a loud noise behind her made her heart leap. “Oh, shit!” She clutched the book to her chest.

“Jade, you in there?” A deep voice bellowed from the hallway.

It took her a moment to realize she’d remembered to close the door. No one had barged in on her, but the damage had been done. And she didn’t want Chloe to know she’d been prying—not before she got a better look at the journal.

“Damn it! Friggin’ a*shole.” She cursed under her breath before she called out, “Just a minute.”

Jade scrambled to put everything back the way she’d found it, including the journal, even though she’d given serious thought to “borrowing” it. She had to know what was in it, but now wasn’t the time, not with Derek yelling her name outside the door. Damn him. Jade locked the drawer to the armoire and put back the key before she glanced around the room one more time. Everything was like she’d found it.

When she yanked open the bedroom door, she glared at Derek.

“What? Don’t you know what a closed door means?” She pulled him inside the room and gave a quick look down the hall, to make sure Chloe hadn’t seen them, before she closed the door again.

“It could mean a lot of things.” He smirked. “In your case, I’d say you were hiding something.”

With her arms crossed, she did her best to ignore his dead-on insinuation. “What’s so important?” she demanded.

“Brenna’s mom came here…just now.”

“What? Really?” She pretended to be concerned, but couldn’t hide her amusement. “What did you say?”

“I told her what we talked about. And she bought it, just like you said she would.”

“And did you do that other thing I asked you to do?” She grinned and wrapped a strand of her hair around her finger, flirting with him.

“Yeah, I did. I’d say we have nothing to worry about from that Indian lover.” He smiled. “And I’ve done everything you asked, right?”

She didn’t bother to answer him. He pulled her to his chest and took what he usually got in return. And Jade gritted her teeth, hoping he’d get it over with quick like he usually did. Even young as she was, before her death, Heather had controlled Derek the same way.

And to think that crazy bitch used to brag about it.

On the Outskirts of Shawano—1:50 a.m.

Dispatch had received an anonymous cell phone call to 911 that couldn’t be traced back to the caller. The technology was improving, but from time to time, they got calls like this and it drove dispatch crazy. Deputy Will Tate had been on duty and had responded to the emergency, but he hadn’t been alone. Sheriff Matt Logan got a personal call, telling him all about it. He’d rushed to the scene, listening for any updates on his radio as he drove.

By the time he got there, he hadn’t missed much.

In a wash of spiraling cop lights, he saw Brenna Nash on the side of the road. He’d arrived in time to see Deputy Tate wrap a blanket around her shoulders. She’d been found wandering down a farm road on the outskirts of town—without a stitch of clothes on. She looked drunk. And from what he could tell, she might have even resisted arrest, too.

When he got close enough, he smelled alcohol. The kid was really messed up, in more ways than one.

“What happened to your face?” he asked her. The sheriff knew his deputy had nothing to do with how she looked, but someone had beaten her. Or maybe she’d done it herself. He wouldn’t put that past a kid like Brenna Nash.

She stood there and didn’t answer him, clinging to the blanket around her shoulders with her lips quivering. Her reaction had come from her fear of getting caught rather than any real likelihood of her being cold. The heat lingered this time of year in Oklahoma, even in the early morning. The girl looked like a deranged lunatic and she could barely stand without leaning on something. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she was really drunk.

He pulled his deputy aside and spoke only loud enough for him to hear. “You give her a Breathalyzer yet?”

“No, not yet. I only got here a little before you did.”

“Get that done before you take her in. And I don’t care if she refuses to take it. Do whatever it takes, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And did she resist arrest in any way?”

Deputy Tate shrugged. “Not really. She tried to run, but that didn’t last long. She was more scared than anything else.”

“In my book, that’s resisting, Tate. We need to take a firm hand with this kid. She’s real trouble. You weren’t here two years ago when she was involved in that killing. You don’t know her like I do.” He shook his head. “You gotta trust me on this one.”

“But, sir…”

“Why are you arguing with me, Deputy, when I know what I’m talking about?”

He knew his deputy was trying to do the right thing, but he didn’t know Brenna Nash.

“Because that kid is scared,” Tate argued. “You didn’t see her when I first drove up. I’d bet money she’s a victim. And I don’t think it’s right that we make things worse for her.”

His nephew’s call to his cell had triggered a reaction in him, especially after he’d found out that the Nash girl was involved. And Derek had told him plenty. Matt had made up his mind what he wanted to do before he even got to the scene.

“But there’s something you don’t know. I got a reliable tip that she brought this on herself. She took two deadbeats to a party with her and they had booze.” He saw he was persuading the deputy when Tate couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m telling you, this kid is messed up. Even cold sober, her judgment is impaired. And we need to teach her a lesson.”

“Lesson? What are you talking about?”

“When you get back to the station, book her like she was under arrest and toss her in jail. She needs to know that she was breaking the law. Cooling her heels in a jail cell for public intoxication and disturbing the peace might get her attention. And her useless mother will have to pay to get her out. Trust me, Will. For God’s sake, trust me, boy.”

The deputy quit arguing and got back to business. By the time the sheriff saw her again, the Nash kid was leaning against Tate’s patrol car and she was crying. She looked a wreck. He had a boy and a girl of his own in college, but thank the good Lord neither of them had turned out like this.

“What’s up with your hair? That some new punk style?” He didn’t keep up with what kids did these days, but her hair had been hacked to shreds. And she still didn’t say anything or look him in the eye.

Taking a special interest in the 911 complaint, Sheriff Logan hadn’t been exactly surprised to find this girl in the thick of it. His nephew had called him personally to warn him that she had made trouble at Chloe Seaver’s and left with two bikers who’d crashed the party. And that she probably would try to drag other kids into her mess.

His nephew had no reason to lie.

“Brenna Nash. So this is your encore?” He shook his head and clenched his jaw. “You’ve only been here a couple of days and you can’t stay out of trouble. You might get away with behavior like this in the big city, but not here.” He shifted his gaze to his deputy. “Arrest her and lock her up.”

“I’ll take her statement,” Deputy Tate said.

“No, I’ll do it. Just do like I told you. And I want her handcuffed, too. She’s not getting a free ride, not in my town. And make sure you get a photo of all of this.” He waggled a finger at her with a look of disgust on his face. “I don’t want her sayin’ we did this.”

He’d seen too many kids like the Nash girl, a product of neglect from a mother who couldn’t handle her. And if she had sneaked into Red Cliffs mental hospital to visit that damned Indian kid—like he suspected after he’d gotten the call from Dr. Sam Ridgeway and heard his description of the visitor—maybe he’d been wrong to dismiss the girl’s involvement in the murder of Heather Madsen. He still had questions about that and she wouldn’t get a slap on the wrist for what she’d done tonight, not if he had anything to say about it.

His nephew had been right to call him. Derek had been worried for the Nash girl. And making that call couldn’t have been easy for him.

“I want her locked up and off my streets,” he said to his deputy. “And get her mother down to the jail now. She doesn’t get to sleep in while her kid is terrorizing the town and tying up law enforcement. Who the hell does she think she is, coming back to Shawano like this?”

He wanted to look Kate Nash in the eye to tell her that he hadn’t been wrong about her kid being trouble.

Not then.

Not now.