“We’re all going to die,” she said softly, voice thick.
“But some of us sooner than others.” Summer paused. “But like I told you, I’m ready to go. I should have been dead, but was given a reprieve. How many folks get that? How many get a chance to close the book on the story of their life?”
Miranda’s eyes stung and she blinked against the tears. “Not many.”
“Exactly.” Summer leaned forward. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What?”
“The bar. When I die—”
“Don’t.”
“When I die,” she went on, voice shaking, “I want you to have it. And my condo, too. Everything really.”
Miranda stared at her, at a total loss for words. She’d walked in here, suspecting Summer of being a killer and a false friend, plotting revenge. And instead, the only thing she was planning was her own death.
“I don’t have anyone else, Miranda.” Summer’s eyes brimmed with tears, but she held them back. “It’s hard to talk about, but it could happen anytime. I want to be … prepared. In every way.”
Miranda reached her hands across the table. Summer grasped them squeezing tightly. “Thank you for being my friend.”
Her thanks was like a knife, twisting in her gut. “Don’t, please—”
“Why not?” The bell over the door jangled and a few guys she recognized from the HPD strolled through, probably looking for a quick lunch.
Summer glanced at them, then back at Miranda. “I’ve got to go help Tara. By the way, it’s done.”
“What do you mean?” She drew her eyebrows together. “What’s done?”
“I had an attorney draw up my will. You’re my beneficiary, Miranda.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
3:45 P.M.
Miranda sat in her car, engine idling. Her hands shook and her thoughts raced. How could she have been so wrong? How could she have so unfairly judged her friend? She hadn’t even been able to look her in the eyes when she left.
Summer wasn’t the other girl. She wasn’t a vengeful killer. Then who was setting her up?
“Miranda! Wait!”
She looked in the direction from which the voice had come. Tara hurrying across the parking lot with Miranda’s jacket. She lowered the window and smiled. “Thank you, Tara! I sure would have missed this when the sun went down.”
Tara laughed and handed it to her. “Glad I caught you. Have a great day!”
“You, too.” She tossed it on the seat beside her and her cell phone tumbled to the floor. She scooped it up and checked the display. Jake had called twice.
She shifted into drive and dialed him back. “Hey,” she said when he answered. “Sorry I missed your call.”
“I have the information you asked for.”
She rolled out of the parking lot. “Shoot.”
“Your prints were found on a water bottle. Smart Water, by the way.”
She didn’t drink bottled water that much, but when she did, that was the brand. It was probably just brand hype, but drinking it made her feel like she was doing something good for herself. “Nowhere else?”
“Nope.”
“What about the clipping?”
“Your prints weren’t on it.”
“So, they did check.” She stopped at the four-way, then rolled through.
“Yup. And get this, neither were Stark’s.”
“Bingo.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Someone must have handled the clipping.”
“They got a partial off it, ran it through the system but didn’t get a hit.”
“Whoever planted the water bottle, planted the clipping and the prints—”
“—to tie you to the scene.”
“Exactly.”
“What about you? You said you were following up a theory this morning. Any luck?”
“Dead end,” she said. “I thought I knew who the killer was, but I was wrong.” She recalled her suspicions and added under her breath, “And ashamed of myself, too.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
“Look, I … got a call from my dad. My mom’s not doing well and I need to hop over to Tuscaloosa to see her.”
“I’m sorry. She’s ill?”
“No.” He paused. “I had a sister who died and tomorrow’s her birthday. Mom always takes it hard, but this year she’s particularly upset. Dad thought seeing me would help.”
“You never told me you had a sister.”
“It was a long time ago. She died … young.”
She wasn’t accustomed to evasions from him and she frowned. “Oh, wow, I’m sorry. How’d she … what happened?”
For a long moment he was silent. When he spoke, he sounded like someone she didn’t know. “She killed herself.”
Miranda couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d announced himself an alien from a planet she’d never heard of. They’d been colleagues, then friends, and now lovers and he’d never shared this?
She thought of his hurt the day she told him about her past—about that night fourteen years ago and going to juvie. She understood it now—because this time it was she who was hurt.
And more clearly than ever, she understood that people kept secrets, even from the people they were most intimate with.
“You there, Miranda?”
“Yeah, just … surprised, that’s all.”
“I don’t talk about it much”
“I get that.” She paused. “I guess I shouldn’t have pried.”
“You didn’t. I should have told you before this. When this is all over, you’ll know everything.”
What an odd choice of words, she thought, hearing the sound of his truck starting. “You’re heading to Alabama now?”
“Are you going to be okay if I go?”
She fought the sudden urge to beg him to stay, or ask if she could go along with him. “Of course I will. How much more trouble could I get into?”
He didn’t laugh. “Be careful, okay?”
“I’ll avoid Buddy at all costs.”
“He’s not who I’m afraid of. He’ll just throw you in jail.”
“Then who are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know, maybe the person who’s killed two people and implicated you in their murders.”
The other girl.
“I don’t think you have to worry. She needs me to take the fall for her.” She said it lightly, but for the first time she wondered if her life could be in danger. “Drive safe. Call me later.”
She ended the call fighting the nagging feeling that Jake was hiding more from her than the fact he’d had a sister.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
4:35 P.M.
Miranda had never been good at inaction. So sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop—or a hatchet to fall—was not working for her. Lawyer’s advice be damned; she and Buddy were going to have a chat.
She parked in front of the station and climbed out. It felt strange walking in without a badge and knowing that everyone was staring at her, even if they were pretending otherwise.
She stopped at the information desk. “Hey, Gloria, how are you today?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Miranda, hey. I’m … okay.” She glanced around her, then leaned closer. “How about you?”
“I’m okay.”
“I’m glad, I…” She lowered her voice. “What’s going around, I know it’s not right.”
Miranda smiled. “Thanks, Glo. And no, it’s not right.”
Jones appeared at the squad room door, saw her, and turned around and went back inside.