“Are you intimating that they had an inappropriate relationship?” Skye asked. She could obviously tell how hesitant Sheridan was to voice her thoughts, how badly she didn’t really want to know.

“I’m not intimating anything.” Robert’s eyebrows knitted in mock innocence. “Imagine how upset my father would be if he heard such a thing.”

Robert hadn’t appeared at her door through any desire to be neighborly; he’d come to make trouble for Cain. Sheridan had expected as much, but she hadn’t expected this. Ms. Stevens? What did Robert expect her to do with this information?

And then it dawned on her. He knew about the camper. He was hoping her wounded pride and outrage would provoke her into exposing this—further damaging Cain’s reputation. Maybe Robert claimed he didn’t want his father to know, but he did. He just didn’t want to be the one to tell him.

“Why are you trying to leak this?” she asked.

“I’m not,” he said.

“You want your father and Karen to break up, is that it? And if you can make Cain look bad at the same time, even better.”

“Stop it. You’re being paranoid!”

“What’s wrong? Don’t you and Karen get along?”

“It’s no secret that I think she’s a bitch, but my dad has his own life to live. I don’t care who he’s with.”

Unless he married her, of course. Sheridan was sure Karen wouldn’t be thrilled to have John’s twenty-five-year-old son living in her backyard. If the relationship became that serious, Robert would have to move, maybe even support himself for a change.

“Well, thanks for the distasteful mental picture,” Sheridan said, “but I don’t believe it. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m sure you understand what’ll happen to your father’s relationship with Karen if a rumor like this were to get started.”

“Which is why I haven’t mentioned it.”

She rolled her eyes. “You just told me,” she pointed out.

Attempting to look sincere, he shoved his hands in his pockets and jingled his change. “You know, there are times when I wonder if hiding something like this from my dad is really doing him any favors. Sex with a student is pretty scandalous. Cain was underage. And Karen was in a position of authority. I’ve seen teachers go to prison for less.”

Skye put her hand on Sheridan’s arm to act as a warning: Hold your temper. “Is that what you’d like to see?”

“Whether I want to see it or not, the truth usually comes out. One way or another, people get what they deserve, don’t you think? I mean, take what happened to you, for instance.”

“You think I got what I deserved when I was attacked?”

His lips pressed tight against his teeth. “According to what Amy told me before she was killed, you lured Jason to Rocky Point just to make Cain jealous. Is that true?”

Sheridan couldn’t answer. She kept seeing the barrel of that rifle in the open truck door, hearing the blast….

“You cost him his life,” Robert went on. “Because of Cain.”

Sheridan felt as if he’d just slapped her. She was guilty as charged, but she’d never had Cain’s stepfamily throw it in her face.

“I think you should leave,” Skye said quietly, but he made no move to go.

“Women and my stepbrother,” he said with a disgusted shake of his head. “I wish you could see how silly you look, lusting after him, jumping into his bed every time he snaps his fingers.”

Sheridan jutted out her chin. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy on your part? Is it eating you up inside that your older brother is everything a woman wants, everything you’ll never be?”

“I’m everything I need to be,” he retorted. “You’re the one who’s always pretended to be something you’re not, the very picture of innocence during the day, panting for Cain at night. It’s no wonder someone hates you badly enough to—”

“Was that someone you?” she shouted.

He lowered his voice. “If I’d attacked you, you wouldn’t be around to tell.”

“Go home.” Skye shoved him in the chest. “Now. Do you hear me? Before I shoot you, after all.”

Chuckling that he’d managed to elicit such a strong response, Robert dropped his hand and walked toward Owen’s truck, which he’d parked haphazardly at the curb, the engine still running.

He turned back after taking only a few steps. “Oh, I should leave this with you while I’m here,” he said and reached into his back pocket to toss a folded flyer on the ground by their feet.

Sheridan was so furious she didn’t bother retrieving it until he’d gone. Then she opened it and smoothed it out: It was Amy’s funeral announcement.

21

There was another note under her doormat, the second in the past five days.

Returning home from school, her arms laden with papers, grade books and progress reports, Karen Stevens could see the white corner sticking out and felt her steps automatically slow. She didn’t want to pick it up. She knew what it would say. But she had to get rid of it before John arrived. He was stopping by at 4:30. He wanted to make up after their argument in the restaurant, but that wouldn’t happen if he learned what she’d done with Cain. It didn’t matter that the incident had occurred twelve years ago. John had so many issues with his stepson, he’d never forgive her. It was Cain they’d argued about at the restaurant the other night. She’d encouraged him to acknowledge his stepson, saying it was ridiculous for them to live in the same town without speaking to each other. He’d flatly refused, saying he wanted no contact with “that murdering son of a bitch.” Which had motivated her to try convincing him that Cain couldn’t possibly have killed Jason. Which made him angry that she was taking Cain’s “side.” Which caused her to say that Cain was twice the man Robert was—words she’d been biting back for months. Which led him to insist he couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t understand his responsibilities as a father. Which provoked her into telling him to go to hell. Then she walked out.

It was basically the same argument they’d had before. And yet it was different. Somehow the stakes had been raised. And that was what scared her.

After checking to make sure none of her neighbors were watching, she shifted her load so she could bend down. Then she grabbed the note, hurried inside and locked the door behind her. Someone was bent on terrorizing her. Why? And how had whoever it was found out? She was almost positive Cain hadn’t told anyone. Maybe he didn’t care what John thought—although she suspected that, on some level, he did—but he definitely cared about Marshall’s opinion. He wouldn’t want his grandfather to know what they’d done. Neither would he want to give those he associated with every day, and the police, another reason to think the worst of him.




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