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Back Season of Fear Save as PDF
Chapters (67)
  1. Contents
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONETHE EXTREMES
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. PART TWOSOMETHING BAD
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. PART THREECHAYLA
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. PART FOURHIT AND RUN
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. EPILOGUE
  67. AUTHOR’S NOTE

They both laughed. Most Florida grads could tell the same story, spending the decade after school as beach bums. Even so, Peach watched Annalie fiddle with a pen on the table, and an unwelcome thought leaped into her head: You’re lying to me. She had no idea why Annalie would lie about her past, or what she was hiding from her. Or maybe she was just being Peach Paranoid again.

‘Well, like I said, you would have liked Justin. He would have liked you, too.’

‘That’s sweet.’

They were silent. Annalie looked uneasy.

‘So Justin never said anything to you about Frank Macy?’ she continued. ‘The name never came up?’

Peach shook her head. ‘No.’

‘Show me the photo again,’ Annalie told her. ‘The one you found in Justin’s safe house. Do you still have it?’

Peach slid the paper from her pocket and unfolded it. Annalie studied it carefully, and she pointed to the edges of the picture.

‘Here’s what I don’t understand. This isn’t a copy of the article itself. The article was pinned up somewhere. See the cork paneling on the side? That looks like a bulletin board.’

Peach had seen that, too. ‘So?’

‘So where was this taken?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘You were in Justin’s safe house and his apartment,’ Annalie said. ‘Could it have been in there?’

‘I don’t think so. Maybe this was inside Frank Macy’s apartment. I could get in and search it.’

‘No, you will not do that,’ Annalie told her firmly. ‘If anyone goes in there, it’s me. I’m the one with the gun, remember?’

‘Yeah, okay,’ Peach said, but she seethed with frustration. She needed a direction. She needed to do something. It was as if Justin were in the corner of the drab conference room, his arms folded, shaking his head at her in disappointment underneath his pork pie hat. Hey, come on, Peach, I’m counting on you.

The phone in the conference room rang. Peach knew she should get it, but she couldn’t move. She stared at Justin in the corner as if he were real, with that I-know-everything smirk on his face. In her imagination, he winked at her and jabbed a finger at the phone as if he were pointing a gun.

You’re going to want to take that call, Peach.

Annalie reached across the table and grabbed the receiver.

‘Hello?’ And then: ‘What’s his name?’

Annalie hung up the phone, her features dark with concern. ‘What is it?’ Peach asked.

‘There’s a detective out front who wants to talk to you about Justin.’

‘Is it Curtis Clay?’ Peach asked. ‘The fake cop?’

Annalie shook her head. ‘No, this one’s real. His name is Cab Bolton.’

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