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A long time ago, she read an article in some magazine that said despite popular belief, being in a state of shock was not emotional distress in response to a traumatic event, but rather the body’s inability to supply itself with enough blood to function properly. Lexie had no idea about any of that, but if what she was feeling right now wasn’t shock, she didn’t know what to call it.
No doubt, Nico would be elbow-deep in the investigation by now, their steamy session in the back room of Rusty’s that morning a distant memory. Against Wade’s advice to go home—Lexie couldn’t think of anything worse than being alone—she worked like a Trojan, hiding in the comfort of a job she knew inside and out rather than facing the truth. Though once the midday crowd cleared out and the dull roar of conversation faded to nothing, she couldn’t avoid it any longer.
Darcy was dead.
What was happening? Was it all connected? It had to be, right? They all grew up here, they were friends for a long time. Did that mean she was next? Did they unknowingly insult or anger the wrong person in their youth and were now paying the price? Had Darcy been right; did this all have something to do with Sara? Was she back from the dead to punish them? Did Kyle do it? Should she run? Should she hide? Should she go to Nico and tell him everything and risk him seeing her differently because of mistakes she’d made in her past? Should she leave the island and never return? Around and around the questions flew inside her head. A tornado of uncertainty and fear.
Lexie excused herself to use the ladies’ room after the lunch crowd had cleared out. As she exited the stall, she jumped at the sight of Colin Rowe waiting expectantly by the basins. She’d heard the door open but had naturally assumed it was another woman, not the resident taxidermist.
“Shit! Colin, you scared me.” She put her hand to her chest. “What are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to see how you were holding up,” he said in his usual well-spoken manner. He was standing with his hands clasped behind his back. “My condolences.”
Lexie frowned. Colin hadn’t been in town all that long in the grand scheme of things, and he had no first-hand knowledge of her former friendship with Darcy.
Reading her confusion, he added, “People aren’t very tactful around here when they gossip. You knew the girl who was killed, yes?”
“I did,” she replied, her voice a reflection of the unease she felt at him having followed her into the bathroom. “In another life.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Lexie waved his sympathy away. She’d never liked the way people said “I’m sorry” simply because it was the only thing to say. After burying her father, she’d received enough apologies to last her a lifetime.
“We weren’t close,” she told him, subtly scooting around so that she had a clear path to the door.
“I see.” Colin tracked the movement curiously. He glanced to the door, then back at her. “Aren’t you going to wash your hands?”
Lexie swallowed. In her experience, Colin was sweet man; at least she’d thought so until a few seconds ago. He was handsome with his boyish grin and curly brown locks that hung just over his eyes, and despite his profession—which, she’d admit, was a little off-putting—he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Still, something about him didn’t sit right with her. Especially right now.
“Of course.” Lexie moved to complete the action. In her head, she was counting how many seconds it would take Wade to burst in here if she started screaming. Not many, she thought, and her shoulders relaxed a little. She’d have done so already if she didn’t feel a shade silly about it, like she was overreacting. She wasn’t, was she? No, this was totally inappropriate.
Colin’s expression remained devoid of understanding, his intentions unclear. The way he stared at her, as if he were studying her, scrutinizing her soul, sent a shiver down Lexie’s spine. She fought the urge to shrink back even as her feet were desperate to run, to escape.
“You shouldn’t be in here, Colin,” she finally said, drying her hands with paper towel.
Colin blinked, taken aback, and for the first time, he seemed to realize where he was. “Ah, yes. Well, while I have you, I’d like to place an order for my usual chicken and salad. To go, please."
“Sure. Maybe you could just wait out in the restaurant . . .” Lexie pointed to indicate he could leave anytime now.
Colin smiled. “Of course.” Then he walked out.
Lexie let out a long, relieved breath.
Weird . . .
With Colin being the only remaining lunch customer, his meal took less than ten minutes to be whipped up, boxed up and deposited onto the counter with a clear ding of the order-up bell. Ten minutes too long, in Lexie’s opinion. She was halfway to him—meal in hand—when she spotted Zoe in the front doorway. She was scanning the room, her eyes stopping when they landed on Lexie.
“Enjoy,” she told Colin as she handed him his food. He seemed suspicious of Zoe’s presence and uncertain if he should stay. For what, Lexie had no idea, but she gave him the tight-lipped grin that roughly translated to “I’ll see ya,” and he left the two women alone. She would talk to Wade about his disturbing behavior later.
“Hi, Lex.”
“Hey, Zoe.”
“You mind coming with me down to the station? We have some questions for you.”
“This is about Darcy, isn’t it?”
Zoe nodded.
