Alaina was on her second beer, and she’d been home for all of ten minutes. At the rate she was going, she’d finish the six-pack in her fridge within the hour.

She wondered if she was turning into an alcoholic. She’d had more to drink in the last week than she’d in the last year. First the wine with Lucas, and now this.

She held the bottle in her hand, the glass cold and wet against her skin.

Lindsay’s words were still fresh in her mind. Garrett had done something to her, she’d said. Not to Noah.

The pieces were starting to come together, but they weren’t painting the picture Alaina wanted to see. She remembered the message Lindsay had left for Noah, the one thanking him for giving her the courage to speak up, and about how she’d confronted the person who had hurt her. Alaina couldn’t be sure—and Lindsay had taken off before she could ask her any more questions—but she was convinced Garrett had assaulted the girl.

Lindsay had obviously told Noah about it, though, and he had helped her work through the trauma, had convinced her to take some kind of action. It wasn’t clear to Alaina whether or not Lindsay had done anything about it, but the fact that Garrett was still on the basketball team led her to believe one of two things: either the charges Lindsay had leveled against him had been dismissed, or she’d yet to say anything to anyone in a position to do something about it.

Alaina took a long sip of her beer. The icy liquid made goosebumps prickle her skin but she didn’t care.

She still didn’t know what had happened to her brother, and she didn’t know exactly how Garrett Grimmer was connected to him, but she was determined to find out. Had he come over to confront Noah, perhaps? Told him to keep his nose out of Garrett’s business? Had he threatened him in some way?

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Garrett and his buddies were probably considered school royalty. They were athletes, they were good-looking…they were exactly the kind of guys Alaina herself had drooled over as a teenager. She shuddered at the thought.

She knew her brother had been a loner, had maybe even been an outcast. His yearbooks, the fact that he didn’t have any close friends, attested to this.

So if some hotshot jock had come over, threatening to ruin his life even more than he already thought it was, would that have been enough to send him over the edge?

Alaina swallowed another mouthful of beer.

Maybe.

Because she was remembering something else Lindsay had said. Not to her, but to Lucas. Lindsay had been convinced that Noah had committed suicide.

Alaina still didn’t want to believe it. The Noah she knew would never do something like that. He loved his video games, his dog. Hell, he’d loved her, even though she hadn’t deserved it.

But the Noah she knew was the Noah from eight years ago, the fun and funny kid who had pretty much worshipped his older sister. She’d had little involvement in his life since she’d moved out, and she had no way of knowing what his life had become.

But Lindsay did. Lindsay was a friend; maybe the closest friend he’d had. He’d tried to help her out in some pretty tough circumstances, so Alaina had to believe they were close. And she also believed that Lindsay knew more about Noah’s final days and weeks than she was letting on. Part of Alaina wanted to confront her, to beg her to tell her what she knew about his mental and emotional state. But there was that other part of her that struggled, that still clung to the belief that she didn’t deserve to know. Maybe this was the punishment she would have to live with. The uncertainty of not knowing. And the constant belief—and the guilt that ensued—that she was responsible.

Alaina rubbed her eyes. She wished Lindsay hadn’t taken off. She wished she could’ve asked her some questions, could’ve convinced her to share with her. She wished Lindsay had heard what she’d said to Garrett. Lindsay didn’t know that Garrett had come to Noah’s room. She didn’t know that his fingerprints had been found on Noah’s window. If she knew, would that prompt a memory? Would that make her reconsider her belief that Noah had committed suicide?

Alaina didn’t know. But she was going to find out.

She finished her beer and set the bottle down on the coffee table. The alcohol had dulled her senses a little, at least enough to stem the rush of adrenaline that had seemed to course through her body unchecked for hours. She was physically and emotionally spent, which seemed to be a common state of being for her over the last few weeks.

Her phone buzzed and she jumped at the sound. A text popped up and the anxiety immediately kicked in. But it was just Lucas.

You doing okay?

Guilt slammed into her. He’d called earlier to tell her about the prints, and he’d told her that he would take care of it.

But she hadn’t listened. She’d taken matters into her own hands and driven over to the school to confront Garrett herself. She knew, even while driving there, that it was reckless. That Lucas would be pissed when he found out.

She didn’t care. Not in the moment, anyway.

But now, sitting on her couch, having the opportunity to reflect on what had happened?

The guilt ate at her.

She knew she should call him. She needed to confess that she’d gone to see Garrett—he was going to find out anyway, and she wanted the news to come from her, not someone else—and she also knew she should tell him about Lindsay and what she had said.

Alaina stared at the phone but couldn’t make her fingers move, couldn’t force herself to pick up the device. Because another memory flashed in her mind, a memory from a conversation that had taken place just a couple of hours ago.

The one she’d had with Mariah Coates. The one where Mariah had told Alaina that she had a date with Lucas that weekend.

Alaina swallowed. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. She and Lucas had a business arrangement. That was it.

She nodded to herself.

Yes, a business arrangement. Which made it all the more important for her to pick up the phone and tell him about Garrett and Lindsay. He would be pissed, but it wouldn’t matter. Because he was nothing more to her than a private investigator helping her get to the bottom of a case. When this was all said and done, they would part ways, would be reduced to saying stiff hellos when they ran into each other around town.

An inexplicable sadness welled up inside of her, and she tried to sweep it aside. She was being ridiculous.

“Just call him,” she muttered under her breath. She picked up the phone.

A loud knock sounded on the front door and Alaina startled. The phone clattered back to the coffee table.

She stood up, her gaze going directly to the door. Her heart began to hammer, and her eyes flew to the boarded-up window. Was it the person who had launched the grenade into her house? Harry was already in his kennel for the night, but she thought about racing into the kitchen and letting him out. Just in case.

She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. No one was there to hurt her. And Harry wasn’t exactly guard dog material.

But a new thought occurred, one that was almost as frightening. Because maybe Lucas had somehow found out about her visit to the school. Maybe he was standing on the doorstep now, ready to chew her out for going there without him, for not listening to him. He’d told her about the fingerprints because he wanted to keep her abreast of all developments, and he’d explicitly told her that they would deal with it in the morning.

And she hadn’t listened.

She took a deep breath and headed toward the door. If he was there to berate her, then so be it.

She deserved it.

She opened the door, pulling a deep breath in to steel herself for the lecture she knew she was going to receive.

But it wasn’t Lucas standing on her doorstep.

A different man was there, shrouded in the shadows.

Rob Grimmer.