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Back Sunset Beach Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. Epilogue
  71. Also by Mary Kay Andrews
  72. About the Author
  73. Newsletter Sign-up

“I don’t know, Dad. You tell me. Since we’re on the topic of honesty, can you honestly tell me she was ‘just a high school classmate’? And there was nothing going on between you? Can you explain why Mom kept a folder full of old newspaper clippings about Colleen Hicks’s disappearance all these years? Or why the official case file, which has been missing from the St. Pete Police Department since Jimmy retired, should turn up in the attic of Papi’s house?”

Brice turned his head and gave a meaningful glance toward Jonah, who, as it turned out, was out cold, asleep in the backseat.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Yeah. You’re a smart cookie. Like your mom. I had a thing with Colleen, for, like, six months. But I broke it off with her before she disappeared.”

“And Jimmy knew about the affair, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Brice said reluctantly. “He knew. He was there when the nightmare started. But I’ve got no idea how that police file got in your grandparents’ attic. And I don’t know, I swear to God, I don’t know what happened to Colleen.”

Before she could ask any more questions, Jonah yawned, loudly and theatrically, to announce that he was awake.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Drue asked.

“Yeah,” Brice said wearily. “It’s a conversation I can’t wait to finish.”

He rolled to a stop in the driveway at Coquina Cottage. Jonah’s shiny black Audi was parked behind Drue’s white Bronco. Brice cut the engine and reached under the driver’s seat, bringing out a blue steel revolver.

“Here.” He turned, holding the gun by the barrel, offering it to the younger man, his voice somber. “You do know how to shoot one of these, right?”

“Dad!” Drue exclaimed, horrified. “What the hell?”

“It’s my old service weapon. Smith and Wesson thirty-eight Special,” Brice said calmly. “Jonah?”

“Uh, well, not really,” Jonah admitted.

“Give me the damn thing,” Drue said impatiently, holding out her hand. “I guess you’ve forgotten that you used to drag me out to practice at the pistol range for hours on end that last summer.”

“That’s right,” Brice said. “Father-daughter bonding time. I had forgotten. So, you remember how to use it?”

Without a word, she broke down the gun to show him her competency.

“I hated every minute of that time, and at the time, I hated you too. I still hate guns,” she said. “But I guess maybe I’ve gotten used to you.”

He nodded. “Okay, kiddo. Same here. Lock all your doors, okay? And let me know the minute you hear from Hernandez that they have Ben in custody.”

Jonah scrambled out of the backseat and opened the passenger door for Drue. He leaned inside. “Hey, Brice. I’m no good with a gun, but if Ben shows up here again? He’s going down.”

57

August 20, 1976