She was a cute little thing, fourteen tops, her hair in braids. She told them that everything was fine, smiling as wide as the Minnie Mouse on her T-shirt. But her eyes were deep, dark wells. She’d seen a spider, she said. She was sorry, she said. She promised to keep it down.

The second the door closed, he called for backup, and then he kicked open the door and he and his partner busted a serial who had raped eleven girls and women in their own homes. That asshole had been right behind the door with his knife pressing into the girl’s spine the whole time she was smiling and saying how afraid she was of spiders.

That was the bust that had taught him to follow his instincts. It had also gotten him his detective’s shield.

Bree’s eyes over her smile had been as shadowed as that little girl’s. Still, he hesitated. Maybe he wanted her to be in distress, damsel style, so he could save her. She’d made it pretty clear that she was finished with the conversation.

She was passing Trey’s secretary now, Janice, who reached out to take her arm. Bree shrugged her off, pressing onward, and in the bright, apologetic smile she gave Janice, Marshall saw something purely ghastly.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and he hurried after her.

8

I went back to the same shaded path I had taken in. It was narrow and secluded, hemmed by arches of hanging vines. I hadn’t called for my Lyft yet, though my phone was in my hand. Marshall had distracted me. I hurried forward a few feet, letting the darkness swallow me. If the daughter was watching me, she would think I was leaving the party, obedient. Then I paused to work the app.

“You’re calling a car service?” Marshall asked behind me in the darkness. I almost jumped out of my skin. “I’d offer you a ride, but I’ve got no business driving. Cara is at her friend’s lake house all weekend, and I’ve kinda tied one on.”

“I don’t mind Lyft,” I told him. The car was on its way. Fifteen minutes. Hopefully, if the daughter was leading Spencer someplace secluded, or even off the grounds entirely, she would choose another path. There were so many.

“I want to ask . . .” Marshall’s voice trailed off. Whatever it was, it was difficult for him.

“What?” I had time to listen. It was better than waiting alone with my thoughts. I might go mad. I would have Robert back, tomorrow at the latest, but I wasn’t sure how I’d survive this night.

Behind him, back up the path, I saw Spencer Shaw and the Clausens at a small bar on the edge of the green closest to us. I froze, feeling my eyes go wide and my mouth tighten. Marshall turned to see what had dismayed me.