The Sorority

by Nancy Bush

Genres: Police Procedurals; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

In a chilling, masterfully twisting new novel of suspense, the New York Times bestselling author of The Camp explores the dark side of friendship . . .

“I pledge my own life and soul to The Sorority.”  

Every school has its cool girls, and at River Glen High, they’re known as The Sorority. The name began as a joke, but it holds a grain of truth. Because they’ve made a pledge to protect one another . . . no matter what the cost may be.  

The pledge to kill Ethan Stanhope—that was a joke too. But then Ethan died in a car crash on the night of graduation, along with his little sister. A tragic accident, they said.

Private investigator Mackenzie Laughlin remembers the girls of The Sorority, though as a cop’s daughter, she was an outsider. Now, nearly ten years later, one of them is missing, and Mac is hired to find her. The accidents have started again too—if that’s what they are. Because Mac is beginning to realize just how much the Sorority sisters have to hide—and how far they’ll go to keep their secrets . . .

Release date: August 20, 2024

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 384

Sample

The girls were flopped around the room in a haphazard circle, all in pajamas or lounge wear, all tousled and tired and settled down and quiet after an evening of pizza, pop music, and social media. There were six of them nearing the end of their senior year at River Glen High. Leigh sat on the floor, her back supported by a pillow, legs splayed along either side of Erin, who was sitting in the vee provided so that Leigh could braid her shoulder-length hair.

“Ouch!” muttered Erin.

“Shut up,” said Leigh as she stretched Erin’s thick, light brown strands into two elaborately twisted ropes, tying them off with tiny black leather thongs.

They were all spending the night at Kristl’s house, like they had so many times during high school. They’d started out as gawky freshmen, members of a loose group of girls that had swelled and split and reformed a dozen times before the six of them coalesced into the unchallenged most popular girls in the whole class.

Kristl’s house was their favorite hangout because Kristl’s parents were at least ten years older than everyone else’s and went to bed early and rarely checked on them. This had led to various nights of sneaking out, although last night had been Prom and their group had been up all night just hanging out together. Now, after a day of trying to catch up on sleep, they were still lazing around.

And they weren’t getting along.

A rift had formed, a chasm, between Mia and Roxie, ever since Roxie had slept with Mia’s boyfriend, Ethan. Well, duh, thought Leigh, yanking hard on Erin’s hair.

“Oww!” Erin cried out again, twisting away from Leigh. “What are you doing? Trying to scalp me?”

Leigh couldn’t exactly say what she’d been thinking. She was just pissed off. She cast a look toward Mia, whose parents always seemed on the edge of divorce. According to Mia, her mom was a “Tiger Mother on steroids,” and felt her daughter was not living up to her potential. Mia’s dad never intervened and spent a lot of time on business trips. Leigh kind of thought that was a blessing. Her own dad was constantly barking at her to get out of bed and clean her room and help her mother. A real tyrant whom she did her best to ignore.

Now Mia climbed to her feet, the near black ponytail at her nape swinging from side to side. She dusted the seat of her gray sweatpants and announced, “Let’s do something. I feel like an invalid, the way the day’s gone. I want to go for a walk, or something.”

“God, no,” moaned Kristl. She was tall with long, mousy brown hair and about an extra thirty pounds on her frame. Kristl was half in, half out of a sleeping bag and looked like she was planted for the night. They’d all gone to Prom as each other’s dates, eschewing the gown, corsage, killer shoes, and asshole or dorky guy for their group of friends. That had been Natalie’s idea, their fearless leader. Maybe it was because she was a feminist, as she proclaimed, or maybe it was because she hadn’t been asked to Prom herself. Natalie was tall, pretty, with dark hair and eyes and alabaster skin because she never went out in the sun. Unlike Roxie, the sixth member of their group, who was tan year-round and highlighted her hair with blond streaks, Natalie preferred black lace, boots, and eye makeup, Goth to Roxie’s “California beach girl” looks. Still, it was Nat’s militant attitude more than anything that put off the opposite sex. Not that she didn’t have guys looking at her. She just didn’t go there, as far as Leigh knew.

“I have no interest in exercise tonight.” Natalie quashed Mia’s suggestion before anyone else could even venture an opinion. She was seated cross-legged on Kristl’s jumbo polar bear pillow. Now she gazed up at Mia, who looked about to argue, then apparently thought better of it and sank back down on the floor. Which left Roxie as the only one not seated on the bedroom carpet. She was lying on Kristl’s twin bed and flipping lackadaisically through a magazine. Her hair lay loose around her shoulders and spilled across Kristl’s blue-and-white quilt, the one made by her grandmother. Roxie had been disengaged ever since Mia had called her out in front of Ethan shortly after the two of them were seen coming out of Gavin’s parents’ pool house at the party Gavin had thrown while his parents were in Palm Desert. Gavin was always hosting parties and of course they always went; he was already planning another one for graduation. But the big scandal was that unaccounted-for hour that Ethan and Roxie had spent together in the pool house, though both of them swore nothing happened. However, they’d been high and giggling, which had infuriated Mia, who’d called Roxie a bitch in heat and worse, then stormed off. Ethan had half-heartedly tried to make amends, but so far Mia was having none of it.

Now, two weeks later, Mia and Roxie still hadn’t spoken. They hadn’t even looked at each other at Prom and if they’d exchanged any words tonight, Leigh hadn’t heard them.

Leigh had been the one who’d first told Mia about Ethan and Roxie sneaking off to the pool house together. How they’d snapped the shutters closed and how rumpled and disheveled Roxie had looked in those first moments when she’d emerged before adjusting her bikini top and knotting a towel around her waist. Ethan, all muscles and longish sun-bleached brown hair that he shook like a dog whenever he got out of the pool, had pretended nothing had happened, too. But he and Roxie couldn’t hide their smiles, even as they tried to act oh, so cool and disinterested around each other. It was pretty sickening, really. Mia had immediately broken up with Ethan, but Leigh could tell she regretted it. She was still mad at Roxie, but she wanted Ethan back even though she said she didn’t. Leigh had asked Roxie point-blank what they’d been doing in the pool house, but Roxie hadn’t answered. That piece-of-shit loser Jeremy Orsini had said Ethan had called Roxie a cock tease, but Jeremy thought Ethan was an asshole and vice versa, so you couldn’t depend on him for accurate reporting.

Kristl hadn’t really invited Roxie to the sleepover tonight, but she’d come anyway, like nothing had changed between her and the rest of The Sorority. Mia was trying to pretend Roxie was invisible but she kept sliding dagger looks her way when she thought no one was looking.

Now Roxie tossed down the magazine and looked over at them, her gaze fixing on Leigh, whose heart stuttered a bit under the scrutiny of those big green eyes. Foxy Roxie, the boys called her. That streaked hair, those big boobs. Fake boobs, they were all sure, but Roxie said no. She insisted the boobs were real, which maybe was the truth because how could she afford new boobs when she and her single mom could barely afford to pay for the dilapidated rental house owned by that lecherous Mr. Donnegal, according to Roxie, who raised the rent every time you sneezed?

Leigh wondered if Roxie was having sex for money. She was poor and had no qualms about anything. Leigh tried to remember how she’d wangled her way into their group. In the beginning The Sorority had been just her and Natalie and Kristl and, well, Mackenzie Laughlin, but Mackenzie hadn’t really fit in. She was just . . . not right. Didn’t even try to fit in. Kind of a bitch, herself, actually, Leigh privately thought. Of course, Mac’s dad had just died and so she should feel sorry for her. She had told Mac that she was praying for her, which Mackenzie hadn’t seemed to know how to take.

Leigh finished braiding Erin’s hair, but Erin didn’t move. She seemed content to lean against Leigh. Erin was like that. Always wanting human contact. Roxie said she was gay, but Erin just shook her head and said she just loved all of her friends. Leigh knew her parents were always fighting and Erin, an only child, was struggling with abandonment issues. Leigh had some of those herself.

Natalie, dark hair tied in a loose ponytail that ran down her back, said, “So, we’re about to break out of this hellhole and go on to college. Aren’t you sick of all the shitty fuckers at River Glen?”

“Absolutely,” said Mia. She slid another look at Roxie.

Kristl said, “I’m sick of all kinds of shit.”

“We all gotta stick together,” said Nat. “We’re coming up on the end of school as we know it. We need to make a pact to stay together, whatever happens. We’re the women of our class, you know? The women.”

Kristl glanced at the bowl of Hershey kisses but didn’t take one, though she clearly wanted to. She was always on a diet, but Leigh had shared a locker with her a few years back and had seen lots of candy wrapper scraps scattered on the bottom that had fallen out of Kristl’s backpack and coat pockets.

Kristl heaved a sigh that blew her bangs away from her forehead. “We should make sure we don’t lose touch with others, too.”

“Like who?” Nat frowned at her.

“Lots of people. We have other friends. We’re graduating. How much are we going to see everybody? I almost invited Mackenzie over tonight.” She wriggled further into her bag so just her face was showing.

Nat looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Why? We’re good as we are.”

“She wasn’t even at Prom,” said Mia, who’d purposely turned her back to Roxie.

“Mackenzie Laughlin’s father was a cop,” reminded Nat, staring Kristl down.

“Don’t speak ill of the dead.” Erin shivered and sat up away from Leigh. Leigh was kind of relieved as Erin had been getting heavy.

“I didn’t speak ill of him, Erin. I just said he was a cop. I’m sorry for Mackenzie that he’s dead, but he was a cop. She’s not going to go along with us.”

“Go along with us?” Erin repeated, frowning. “What does that mean?”

“She won’t break rules.”

“What rules?” Kristl pressed, peering from beneath her reddish bangs.

“You don’t know that. How do you know that?” asked Leigh.

“Well, I like Mackenzie,” Erin put in.

Mia said, “She’s one of those drama geeks.”

“I’m one of those drama geeks,” Leigh retorted.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Natalie was starting to get that pinched-lip look that came when she was frustrated. “We don’t need anybody else. We’re a sorority. The Sorority. Complete unto itself.”

This had been Natalie’s mantra from the time they were kids. They were a sorority, a sisterhood. Leigh had heard it and heard it and heard it. Once upon a time it had made her feel special. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“And speaking of our sorority, you two have gotta make up.” Natalie wagged a finger between Mia and Roxie.

Mia seemed hit by a freeze ray but Roxie unfolded herself from the bed and sauntered over to the window, looking at her own reflection in the glass. She wore a blue fuzzy sweatshirt and blue-and-pink plaid boxers for pajamas. She struck a pose, thrusting out a hip, and tried out the look.

“That’s not going to work,” she said. It seemed like she was talking to her reflection.

“Did you hear what I said?” demanded Nat.

“Yes. And I’m answering you. That’s not going to work. Mia’s not talking to me.”

Mia stared at the floor, her jaw set.

“Right, Mia?” Roxie looked over at her, waiting for an answer. When there wasn’t one, she gave Nat a See? look.

“Mia—” Nat began, but Roxie suddenly whipped around, a big grin on her face and said, “Hey, I’ve got a name for our sorority. We never call ourselves anything, but I’ve got this: I ate a pie!” She laughed and plunked herself down by Natalie and tried to snatch Kristl’s polar bear pillow from underneath her. Natalie hung onto it with a hard grip and glared at her.

Reaching out from inside her sleeping bag, Kristl swept up another pillow and threw it at Roxie. It glanced off her head.

“Hey!” Roxie narrowed her eyes at Kristl.

“You deserved that,” Kristl said, easing her words with a smile.

“And more,” Mia put in.

Kristl reached around for another pillow, apparently planning to toss it at Roxie again until Natalie muttered. “Stop that.”

“What did you say about eating a pie, Rox?” Erin cut in.

“Natalie just said we’re a sorority and I said, ‘I ate a pie.’ I, like in iota. Then the Greek letters Eta and Pi. I ate a pie. That’s our sorority. I Eta Pi.”

“Oh, fuck,” said Nat.

Kristl mumbled from inside the sleeping bag, “We’re not really a sorority, Nat. My cousin’s a Delta Gamma. That’s a sorority. We won’t be in one until college.”

“I’m still waiting to see if I get into Stanford,” said Mia.

Roxie snorted.

“You have something you want to say?” Mia slowly swung her gaze toward Roxie.

Here we go, thought Leigh.

Roxie said, “You don’t have the grades and you don’t have the money. Neither do I. Sad but true.”

“Maybe you don’t have the grades, but I do!” Mia snapped back.

“Leigh’s family has loads of money, but the rest of us don’t,” Roxie added, her green eyes sliding Leigh’s way.

“Shut up and listen,” Natalie cut in.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Roxie warned Mia.

“I’m the bitch?” Mia practically shrieked, looking around at the rest of them, hands splayed out as if asking, Can you believe this?

Kristl mumbled something again that could have been a snide repeat of “Don’t be a bitch.”

“Stop it! Just stop it. We are a sorority,” Natalie insisted, jumping to her feet. “A group of sisters. The best kind because we’ve chosen each other. So this is our first serious meeting.”

“The first meeting of I Eta Pi.” Roxie smiled.

Natalie threw Roxie that ice-cold look only she could give. Leigh was kind of intimidated by her, but Roxie just looked at Natalie with a bland I’m listening, bitch expression and waited.

Kristl gave Nat the rolling wrist go-ahead gesture.

“We are a sorority. And we have a mission. We need to work together and make it happen.”

“What mission?” asked Erin, frowning.

“We need to kill Ethan Stanhope. He’s come between a couple of our sisters, so he needs to be taken out.”

Leigh burst out laughing, but when no one else joined her, she grew quiet. They all looked at each other, assessing how serious Nat was, and just when the time felt like it was stretched to breaking, Kristl poked her head out and admitted, “Well, I’d like to kill him.”

“No shit,” Mia seconded.

The rest of them chorused their agreement except for Roxie, who crossed her arms over her chest.

“So, good. We all want him dead,” said Nat. If she had made one of her famous to-do lists she would’ve crossed off Ethan’s name right then and there. She glanced at Roxie. “Well, almost all of us.”

“Ha, ha. We all want him dead,” said Erin a bit nervously.

“I’m serious,” Nat answered.

Erin’s eyes showed her growing concern and Leigh felt it, too. Nat didn’t joke around much.

“Ethan Stanhope needs to die,” Natalie insisted.

“How do you feel about that, Rox?” Mia asked, chin up, turning to stare at her rival.

Roxie just lifted a shoulder. “Whatever.”

“So, how are we going to do it?” Mia asked, still staring at Roxie.

“Don’t look at me,” warned Roxie.

“Look at me. I’m dead serious,” said Natalie.

Mia finally shifted her gaze to Nat.

“You don’t believe me,” Natalie accused.

“I’m just asking for details.” Mia cocked her head and added, as if this conversation was totally normal, “It’s just that if I get caught, that’ll really screw up things for my application to Stanford.”

Everyone tittered at that, but when Nat remained silent, the tension in the room couldn’t be denied. Even Roxie got a small frown on her face as she regarded their leader.

“I’ve got it all figured out. A car accident. This is why we can’t have Mackenzie,” Nat added, shooting Erin a swift glance. “She’d never go along with it.”

“Like we’re going along with it,” said Roxie.

“If we’re not, we’re out of the sorority,” Natalie stated firmly. “This is a first test. Like slicing our fingers and smearing our blood together.”

“God,” muttered Mia.

“What are you all talking about?” muttered Kristl. She was down in her bag again, just a thatch of reddish-brown hair and brown eyes visible.

“Don’t we hate Ethan?” demanded Natalie.

“Not really,” muttered Leigh.

“Well, you should. And Roxie, you should have never screwed around with him, but you did and now he has to die.”

“I was drunk, okay? It wasn’t like that.”

“He said you had sex with him,” accused Erin.

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Did you kiss him?” Erin pressed.

“No . . .” But it sounded like the lie it obviously was and Roxie seemed a bit flustered.

Erin flipped her new braid over her shoulder and shifted over toward her. “Yes, you did.”

“Get away from me, you lesbo.”

Stung, Erin slipped back toward Leigh. “I like guys.”

“Maybe we should just kill Roxie,” said Mia, examining her freshly painted fire-engine-red nails.

“Go blow yourself, Mia.” Roxie’s eyes were emerald ice.

Natalie said, “Hey, get serious. We should blame the guy, not each other. Ethan’s the one who broke the code of our sorority.”

Erin murmured, “I don’t like this talk.”

“Me, neither,” said Leigh.

Natalie gazed around the room, stopping to stare at each friend in turn.

They were all frozen, waiting for the punch line, but it never came. Slowly, they realized Nat meant what she was saying and Erin choked out, “I’m not killing anybody. I’m not hurting them, either. Why don’t we just all shun him? He’s such a spoiled jerk.”

“Well, he lied about me,” said Roxie. For the first time since she’d sneaked away to the pool house with Ethan, her cool facade seemed broken. “So, yeah, let’s kill him.”

“One less asshole in the world,” said Mia blandly.

They all looked at her. Agreeing with Roxie? Clearly she was just playing along. She still wanted Ethan. They all knew it. But, on the other hand, love and hate were opposite sides of the same coin.

“What about Stanford?” Kristl asked, sliding out of her sleeping bag, her face flushed. Leigh wondered if she’d been masturbating in there. She’d noticed some jerking movement that Kristl had tried to hide, like she thought she was being discreet.

“I’m going to get into Stanford whether we kill Ethan or not.”

“Okay, everybody. Stand up. Hands in the center,” ordered Natalie, stretching out her arm.

It was like a dream, Leigh thought later, or a drama sketch, as they all slowly stood as well, holding out their arms and placing their right hands on top of each other’s. Mia even put her hand on top of Roxie’s.

Natalie intoned, “Repeat after me: I solemnly swear, as a member of our sorority, that I will do my part to take the life of Ethan Stanhope.”

They all echoed the words though Erin and Leigh spoke more slowly.

“Ethan Stanhope’s selfish narcissism has created a rift between two of our members. For his crimes, he cannot live.”

Again, they echoed Natalie’s words but their faces reflected how uncomfortable the whole ritual made them feel.

“And now I pledge my own life and soul to The Sorority.”

There was a slight hesitation, but they all complied. Afterward, Natalie dropped her hand and the rest followed.

Almost immediately Natalie doubled over from the waist and howled with laughter, pointing at them.

“You . . . you all bought it! You bought it! Like sure, we’re going to kill Ethan.” She dropped back onto the polar bear pillow and rolled onto her back, hooting with laughter.

“You’re whacked,” muttered Kristl, diving back into her sleeping bag.

The mood of the evening turned . . . well . . . weird, Leigh thought. They were all kind of annoyed with Natalie for toying with them, but it was so her.

Leigh slipped into her own sleeping bag and considered Ethan Stanhope. He was good-looking, arrogant, and had a swimmer’s build. She’d slid him a covert look or two of admiration herself. They all had, she knew. He was great to look at, so chiseled and hard, and she’d had a nice moment with him she’d never told her friends about but that she thought about from time to time.

When they lined up for graduation three weeks later, Leigh’s gaze lingered on Ethan as he accepted his diploma and shook hands with the principal. She watched him give a thumbs-up to his family as he stalked back to his seat, tassel on his mortarboard swinging. His mother, father, and sister cheered him on, none of them knowing that later that night he would pass out at the wheel, miss a turn, and plow straight into a tree.

But the further tragedy of the accident, the worst part of it, was that he took his little sister with him and she died, too.

Now . . .

Mackenzie Laughlin hurried up the wet grass of the knoll that led to the graveyard, pelted by rain. She swiped the water off her face and wished she’d had the foresight to wear a hat. Her ponytail lay soaked and limp against her nape. She was going to look like the proverbial drowned rat and as this event was a fellow officer’s death, she really wanted to reflect the solemnity of the afternoon. In fact she—

Movement on her right caught her attention and her black flats slipped. She went down hard, twisting her ankle. Pain shot up her leg. Shit. She glanced around but whatever, or whoever, she’d seen had disappeared. Rubbing her ankle hard, she staggered to her feet, glowering down at her shoes. If she’d had on her beat-up Nikes she wouldn’t have fallen.

Brushing her hands against her black pants’ damp knees, she worked her way up the rise and then hobbled toward the group gathering outside the open grave. Her ankle sent shivery bursts of pain up her leg, but she gritted her teeth and fought to ignore it. She imagined her foot swelling inside her shoe and had to struggle to get her mind off it. Seeing Detective Cooper Haynes standing on the near side of the grave, she forced herself not to limp as she moved over to join him, swearing inside her mind with each . . . damn . . . step.

She glanced around to see if someone else was joining the group late—maybe the someone she’d caught in her peripheral vision? She was fairly certain it was a person who’d split her attention, causing her fall, though maybe she was just making excuses for her own clumsiness.

People were shuffling in place on the far side of the grave site, near the blue-tarped tent where the funeral director stood, a solemn man whose gray hair was getting flattened and darkened by the rain. Umbrellas covered many of the mourners’ faces, but she caught movement in a clutch of three women who, Mac realized, were her old classmates. They were huddled under a large black umbrella and they were turning and talking to a newcomer whom Mac couldn’t see. As she watched, however, they turned back and lifted the brim of the oversized umbrella they shared so she could clearly see their faces. It had been over ten years since high school, but they looked the same: Natalie, tall, dark, and imperious; Erin, shorter, rounder, her face set in perpetual anxiety; Kristl, her freckles stark against her white skin, strands of dark red hair limp and sticking to her cheeks, her body slimmer now. She’d clearly shed a number of pounds. Mac didn’t see Mia or Leigh . . . or Roxie Vernon, who’d disappeared directly after graduation, never to be heard from again, according to social media. Rumors were she’d been pregnant and Ethan Stanhope’s parents had paid for her to have an abortion. Rumors were that she’d been pregnant and Ethan Stanhope’s parents had paid her not to have an abortion, so they could raise their only grandchild as their own. Rumors were she and her mother had been forcefully evicted from their apartment by an ogreish landlord. Rumors were she and her mother had been given reduced rent by an ogreish landlord in exchange for sleeping with them both and when Roxie graduated, they ditched the arrangement. Rumors were Roxie had run off with a wealthy businessman and was now living on a privately owned island in the Caribbean. Rumors were she’d run off to Hollywood but was now working in the porn trade.

Yeah . . . rumors about Roxie waxed and waned but never seemed to really die.

Haynes was also standing hatless as Mackenzie moved up next to him. The rain was taking a momentary break, but beads of moisture glinted amidst his dark hair. He glanced down at her and said, “Hi.”

“Hi. Wish we were meeting under different circumstances.”

He nodded and looked grim.

Mac had worked with Detective Haynes during her stint with River Glen P.D. but the last few years she’d drifted into private investigation where she and Haynes had crossed paths during several cases. Some of those cases had involved his family and Mac had grown friendly with a number of them, specifically his sister-in-law, Emma Whelan, during one especially harrowing challenge.

Now, in the lull that had developed while latecomers appeared, Mac asked Cooper, “How are things going with Emma, Jamie, Harley, and everyone?” He’d gotten married earlier in the year to Jamie Woodward, whom Mac had also become friends with. She basically knew his whole family.

He drew a breath and something about it filled her with worry. Seeing her expression, he exhaled and assured her, “Everything’s fine. I don’t know if you know this, but Jamie and I are having a baby, actually two.”

“Twins! Congratulations,” she whispered.

“Actually, we’re having one with a surrogate and . . . Jamie’s pregnant, too.”

Mac couldn’t hide her surprise. “Wow.”

“I know. Unexpected,” he said. Finally, the faintest hint of a smile. “We didn’t think it would happen . . . it was a challenge.”

Though he appeared to be practically bursting with the good news, there was a shadow there as well. “Something wrong?”

“No, it’s . . . Jamie’s been ordered to keep her feet elevated. Basically bed rest. She’s having to quit teaching.”

“But everything’s looking good?” Mac repeated.

“Yep. Just an abundance of caution.” He hesitated, then added, “Emma’s moved back to take care of her.”

There was irony in his tone. Emma, though capable in her own right, wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice as a caretaker owing to a long-ago accident that had left her mentally handicapped. Still, that hadn’t stopped her from helping save Mac herself from the hands of a killer. With Emma’s unexpected aid, Mac was still on the planet.

“Glad everything’s okay,” she said, meaning it.

He nodded, but then his attention was diverted as the funeral director took a step forward and began to talk about the fallen officer, Tim Knowles. His voice droned a bit and Mac found herself drifting off and thinking about Knowles herself. She’d already had a foot out the door when he joined the department, but she remembered Tim as being upbeat and ready to help others, a far cry from his older brother, Gavin, one of Mac’s own classmates.

As the oak casket was lowered into the grave, it lurched a bit, the surrounding straps momentarily slipping, eliciting a round of gasps from the mourners. But then it steadied again and stayed put as it slowly disappeared into the yawning, waiting hole. A collective sigh from the mourners followed, echoed by the light wind that blew coldly across the near frozen ground. Mac’s ponytail lay cold and wet against the back of her neck as a bead of water ran down her temple. She’d purposely worn waterproof mascara and today she’d put on Think Pink lipstick—a nod to makeup she often had no time for—which she’d apparently gotten on the back of her hand as a small swath of skin sparkled pink in the gloomy sunlight from the shimmery transfer of color.

Tim Knowles had been with the department only a few years before being gunned down earlier this week, the first officer at the scene of a burglary. Gunfire had been exchanged and the burglar, a man with a long record of theft and violence, had raced away from the dying Knowles. Other officers had chased him into a church where he’d turned the gun on himself, whispering, “Salvation,” as he pulled the trigger.

Mackenzie shivered at the thought. She’d attended the indoor funeral service, but then had gotten in a tangle of traffic that had caused her to be late to this grave-site service. She glanced again at the knot of her high school friends, a small group within the student body of River Glen High who’d known Tim. Mac’s class had just had their ten-year reunion but Mac hadn’t gone. For her and many others, high school was forever marked by the death of Ethan Stanhope and his little sister from a car accident graduation night, after their last senior party. It had shocked and hurt everyone at the school and it still had the power to make Mac want to steer clear of her classmates. She hadn’t been that close to any of them anyway and she hadn’t been able to work up any enthusiasm for the reunion.

Maybe this is just a “you” problem.

The funeral director was extolling Tim’s accomplishments. Mackenzie looked past him to the line of trees at the back of the graveyard, their naked limbs black fingers reaching against the gray November sky. Her ankle ached dully and she could feel the frigid cold seep up from the ground and inside her flats, numbing her toes. She realized she was counting down the seconds until she could gracefully leave and felt a bit guilty.

She was angry over Tim’s murder. She might no longer be with the River Glen P.D.