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“How do you know the letters came from Lucas?” he continued.
“We don’t. Not for sure. But the four of us and Lucas are the only people”—Sarah stopped, correcting herself—“were the only people still living who were here that day. And we have no reason to threaten each other.”
“But why would he threaten you? I mean …” He ran a hand over his reddish-brown hair, in need of a trim. “Why bring it up now? Why do anything?”
“That’s what we don’t know,” Holly said. “One theory is that Lucas had plans to run for office and wanted to make sure we kept quiet.”
“About the assault.” Connor’s gaze narrowed and he glanced between them. “What else?”
“She ran from him, bruised and bloody, crying.” Sarah’s throat hurt, the rage unspoken for so long. “We were all there. The guys tried to confront him but he jumped in the car. They tried to stop him but …”
“And that’s when the accident happened.” Connor wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist.
“I—” Guts, Sarah, guts. “I have never been sure it was an accident. Yes, the moose came out of the borrow pit. Yes, Lucas was angry and even afraid. But …”
“You think—oh, God. You think he crashed that car on purpose,” Connor said. “Killing one man and nearly killing another.”
“I never knew you thought that,” Holly said. “I thought that was just my crazy theory.”
“I suspect each of us came to that same conclusion. The girls. Not Jeremy. Never Jeremy.”
“Holy crap,” Connor said. “I never would have hired Erickson …”
“I know,” Sarah said. “I know. The story never got out. Janine decided not to press charges, after what happened. We all thought he’d go to prison for the wreck. We never imagined he’d get off scot-free.”
Connor’s eyes were guarded, and she saw in this giant man the little boy who’d chased after his sisters on the lakefront lawn, who’d stepped into the family business young, working alongside their ailing father for years, keeping it going against all odds. And now, apparently, expanding it.
They heard the front door open. Connor poked his head out, then back in. “It’s Leo.”
A moment later, the uniformed sheriff joined the siblings in their grandfather’s office, forgoing the usual hugs, kisses, and handshakes. This was serious.
“If you’re here to see Janine—” Sarah began.
“No. Ms. Lund made crystal-clear that I was not to say anything more than hello to Ms. Chapman outside her presence,” Leo said.
“You’re treating her as a serious suspect,” Connor said.
“Everyone’s a serious suspect,” Leo replied sharply.
“We’ve told him everything,” Sarah said.
“All right. Good. I’m sending the letter and envelope to the state crime lab,” Leo replied, “for fingerprinting and a formal comparison to the others. Though it seems identical. Tell me about it.”
“It came to the house. I don’t remember seeing it, but either the housekeeper or I must have thought it was another condolence card and tucked it in the bag with the rest.”
“Where it stayed until last night,” Leo said, and she nodded.
“If Lucas Erickson was the kind of man who would threaten a woman whose husband had just died,” Holly said, “then he deserved what he got.”
“Probably not the best thing to say in front of the sheriff,” Sarah said, “even if he is our cousin. But I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Problem is,” Leo said, “that kind of logic gives me a long list of suspects.”
Was she imagining that his attention settled on her brother a moment too long? Surely Leo didn’t suspect his own family. Surely if he did, he’d bring in outside investigators.
“What if,” Connor said, “Janine heard about his ambitions—they’re hardly a secret—and decided this was the time to stop him? Times have changed.”
Easy to say, hard to believe. As the mother of both a young man and a young woman, she hoped sheriffs no longer told young women to get over it, to think about the man’s reputation. Leo would never say such a thing. But the rest of his ilk? She wasn’t convinced.
