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as he ran his hands down his cheeks. “I’ve apologized and said I’d mow her yard this summer for free. She declined, so I decided that my best course of action is to avoid her until I move away for college.”

Hunter shook her head. Her ponytail slipped off her neck and hung limply in front of her shoulder. “That’s in two years.”

“Exactly why we’re hiding.”

Barbara Ritter’s sparkly tennis shoes threw white spots across Hunter’s vision as she and her friend approached the table. Jax’s eyes widened and he pressed his finger against his lips so hard that the pink flesh around his nail whitened.

Plain white Keds stood directly in front of Hunter. A ring of dirt encircled the sole like chocolate meringue. “Oh, Barbara, what about these? The…” There was a short pause and a ruffling of leaves before the woman continued. “Bleeding amaranthus. It says they get pretty big. If you plant them right along your fence line, they should block out your neighbors.”

Jax’s face lit up like a stoplight.

Barbara’s sparkles inched closer to the large pots just on the other side of the ivy shield. “But the name, Susan. Bleeding amaranthus. I couldn’t bear to have anything planted on my property with the word bleeding in the name. Not after what I overheard this morning.”

The Keds spun to face the garish sparkles. “I knew there was something you weren’t telling me. You may have re-upped your Botox, but I can still see it written all over your face. Spill!”

The gold-sparkled toes wiggled like two puppy butts. “Deputy Carter was pulled up outside of the Coffee Spot this morning. Windows down, practically yelling into his phone about Dominic Parrott.”

Hunter’s breath caught in her throat.

Susan sighed and her Keds relaxed and parted slightly. “I’ve always felt so sorry for Dominic.” Another sigh. “That depressing job and practically raising his daughter alone while his wife is off on all of those business trips doing God knows what. Although I did see him at the IGA just a few days ago. He’s leaving soon for some funeral services convention.” She paused. “I suspect that’s code for getting the H-E double hockey sticks away from my terrible wife.” Susan sucked in a breath and her heels lifted and settled back against the gravel. “Maybe I should bring him a plate of my hot sticky buns.”

“Well, don’t get too excited.” Barbara’s right foot angled outward as she settled into her story. “You know I don’t like to speak ill of the dead. Or, in this case, the family of the dead, but—”

Susan took a step back. “Dominic Parrott is dead?”

Jax squeezed Hunter’s arm. She wanted to cover her ears with both hands and dig into the ground like a mole, but it wouldn’t have helped. Death had stitched itself to Hunter’s back and rode her like wings.

“Hush now, Susan.” Barbara slid closer to her friend. “It’s not common knowledge, just a fact I overheard the deputy discussing. Along with another…”

The dramatic pause made Hunter’s stomach lurch.

The sparkle-encrusted shoes wriggled as Barbara continued, “Dominic Parrott was murdered in his own car. Right outside the sheriff’s department. If you’re not safe there, I just don’t know where you can be.”

Susan sucked in another breath and the toes of her shoes pressed together. “It’s like in one of those CSI shows.”

The golden sparkles halted their dance and resumed their stroll along the gravel path. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that. I try to stay away from graphic television dramas…” Barbara’s voice faded and her shoes blurred into two bright blotches as she and Susan turned and made their way back to the main building.

Hunter pressed her hands into the ground. But the killings were about her, about Mercy, about the gates, weren’t they? She lifted her hands and stared down at the starlike imprints in the dirt. The sheriff’s department was nowhere near any of the trees. What did that mean? What did any of it mean? She crawled out from under the table and stood. She needed answers.

Eighteen

Hunter’s journal lay open in her lap and she clicked and unclicked her pen as she and Jax neared her driveway. She scrawled a note next to the name of the insecticide they had picked up from World of Blooms and let out a defeated sigh. This was her writing journal no more. It was now destined to be filled with to-do lists and random similes and metaphors she thought of throughout the day. At least, random similes and metaphors used to pop into her head throughout the day. But that was back when she was going to be a famous author and pen the thrilling and romantic novel, When Darkness Rises. Now, she was trying to stop murders, heal sick gates, survive without her mother, and keep her only remaining human family member from falling apart.

Jax slowed to a stop in the driveway and Hunter closed her journal and dropped her head back against the headrest. On the porch, Kirk closed the front door to her house and paused at the top of the steps to stretch.

Jax bumped Hunter’s elbow with the side of his sweating Big Gulp cup. “Slushies fix everything.” His crooked teeth poked out from between blue-stained lips.

She looked away and chewed the end of the straw. “Can we just sit for a minute? See if I can get a sugar rush before I have to entertain Kirk.” Hunter pushed the switch and the window slid down a few inches before she rolled it back up. “Maybe he’s leaving,” she grumbled as she rolled the window down an inch and then up again.

Jax wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and shrugged at the blue smudge it left behind. “You do what you want.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ve got to pee before I head to practice.” He left the car running as he got out and headed toward Hunter’s front porch.

She cracked her window again as Jax intercepted Kirk on

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