All in all, it wasn’t the sort of atmosphere she wanted to spend extra time embroiled in. She was beginning to regret promising to stay for the boating trip and just hoped the coming of the weekend cheered everyone up.

  She had so much on her mind and no one to tell it to. Even though she had finally called her parents and reassured them that she was alive, just busy, she hadn’t told them what had happened. They would just worry and insist she come home. She didn’t want to make things worse for them. She could tell one of her friends, she supposed, but Luis was a part of their friend group, and she didn’t want her trip to get back to him yet. She knew a lot of stuff was going to hit the fan when he finally figured out that she’d come into serious money, and she wanted to have at least a couple states in between them before that happened. So, while her friends knew she was taking a road trip “to find herself,” as far as they were concerned, she was just puttering along in her little car and scraping the bottom of her bank account to do it.

  What it all boiled down to was that she had no one to turn to with everything that had happened. Well, she could talk to Cicero, and he might even talk back, but he wasn’t exactly full of sage advice. He wasn’t even that great at keeping secrets; he had an uncanny knack for picking up on the words and phrases she most didn’t want him to repeat and saying them over and over again. He’d said “Lucy” three times today alone, and each time, she had flashed back to seeing the other woman in her bedroom with Luis. She dreaded to think what he would do with secrets relating to something as important as a murder.

  “I wish I’d kept up on journaling,” she groaned, resting her elbows on the table and leaning her head into her hands. “At least it would give me a way to vent.”

  She frowned, remembering something Angela had suggested. Blogging. A travel blog, to be specific. She’d liked the idea, but at the time had thought she would be blogging as herself, something she could share with her friends and family.

  But what if she used a screen name and didn’t share it with anyone she knew? She could be completely open about everything that had happened to her—including winning the lottery, which was quickly beginning to feel like the world’s biggest secret to her. She could pour out all of her feelings about finding Tom’s body, her worries that one of the people she’d come to know during her stay here might have done it, and she could be honest about her uncertainty going forward. She wouldn’t have to keep her happy face on. She wouldn’t be risking worrying her parents or giving Luis a road map to her and her winnings. She could just be … her.

  Sure, even a blog under a new name might run some risk of being found, but the internet was a big place. It was a chance that she was willing to take. Just the thought of being able to pour her heart out, even if it was to strangers, made her feel lighter, and she got up to fetch her laptop. She wouldn’t publish the first post until she left Michigan, just in case, but she could get started on it now.

  She woke up the next morning to a shout. Scrambling out of bed, she went to look out the window and saw Angela throwing something at her brother. She tensed, then realized the bright orange thing she’d tossed was just a life jacket. She threw a second one at him from inside the garage, then waved him away. He went to go put them in her car, which already had what looked like other life jackets and some towels in it.

  Today was the day they were going boating, and it looked like her companions were eager to head out. She felt a bit bad for not being more excited herself, but the suspicion she had that at least one of them was involved in Tom’s death weighed heavily on her, despite the cathartic writing she’d done the night before.

  She grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and wrinkled her nose. A bad smell was hanging in the air, but she couldn’t figure out where it was coming from; maybe it was something outside.

  Yawning, she turned to Cicero, who was preening himself in his cage. “You wanna go on a boat, bud? I hope you remember all of that training we did with your harness…”

  It took some coaxing and one bitten finger, but before too long, she had Cicero in his bright red harness—which was designed specifically for parrots and had a lightweight bungee leash with an end that could either go around her wrist or clip to her belt loop—and she herself was dressed in shorts and a lightweight T-shirt, with her bathing suit on underneath. She grabbed her purse, slipped her feet into her flip-flops, and, with Cicero riding on her shoulder, ventured out to help the others pack for a day on the lake.

  Angela’s skills at running the diner bled over to organizing for their excursion as well, and it didn’t take long before they had everything packed up and ready to go, including a cooler with drinks, sandwiches, and some of Cicero’s food. There was a slightly awkward moment when Angela asked if Tulia wanted to ride with them. She made the excuse that she wanted to bring Cicero’s travel cage and that there wouldn’t be enough room in the car if she squished in with them, but in truth, she just wanted the freedom to drive away if she got a bad feeling about anything.

  The drive to the lake didn’t take long; the dock where Angela stored her grandmother’s boat was just outside of Marquette on Lake Superior and was a quick shot down the main road. It was busy. It seemed a lot of people were taking advantage of the nice Saturday to get out and have fun, but there was plenty of room on the lake for them all. Angela led the way to a medium-sized boat with a small cabin and a collapsible canopy for shade. Benny and Devon set the canopy up while she and Angela loaded the cooler, the towels, and the lifejackets. As she turned around to help Angela lift the cooler into the boat, she glanced out at the parking lot and froze at the sight of a black SUV parked just a few rows away from where they had parked. Her first thought was that it was the two men from the diner … but it couldn’t be them. She tried to convince herself that it didn’t make sense, that she was just being paranoid, but she was relieved when Angela finally started undoing the rope that tied the boat to the dock and there was still no sign of them.

  Before she knew it, she was sitting on a bench seat on board the lovingly named Rosewater with Cicero on one hand and her other hand clutching the railing. Angela eased them away from the dock and out onto the lake proper.

  The bird seemed uncomfortable with the noise of the engine at first, but once they started moving and the wind hit his feathers, he relaxed and began flapping his wings, trying to pick up some air. His leash was looped securely around her wrist, but she held onto his toes anyway, not wanting him to slip off her hand and get hurt. Devon, who had been uncharacteristically quiet this morning, smiled at the sight.

  “Does he think he’s flying?”

  She laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s flown before, but only in the house.” Well, and up into a tree just a few days ago, but she didn’t want to think of that. She’d come so close to losing him.

  “Poor guy. I bet he’d love to just go soaring into the sky.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he would. It’s getting him back that would be the problem. He was hand raised by humans and has zero survival skills; he’d have a good time up there until he landed in a tree, alone, and realized he had no idea where his people were.”

  Before Devon could respond, Benny flopped down onto the seat between them. “Heyo. Whatcha talking about?”

  “I was just asking about her bird,” Devon said. He sounded defensive to Tulia, which didn’t make any sense. Why would Benny care what he was talking to her about?

  “What’s his name again?” Benny asked, turning to Tulia.

  “Cicero,” she said. “My parents named him, supposedly after some old Roman guy, but I think they just liked the name.”

  “It’s better than, like, Spot or something.” He stared at the bird, who stared back. “Will he bite me if I try to pet him?”

  “Probably.” Cicero was usually gentle with her and with her parents—especially her mother—but tended not to like strangers, and especially not men. He might have been small, but his bites were nothing to laugh at.

  Benny shrugged and leaned back, eyeing her. “You found Tom with my sister, huh?”

  She shifted, noticing that Devon looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. She really didn’t want to talk about this now, not on a boat that was already a good half a mile from shore. “Yeah. She asked me to open the lid to the dumpster, and…” Trailing off, she shuddered.

  “Well, I’m glad you were there.” He lowered his voice, glancing toward the wheel to make sure his sister wasn’t paying attention. “I’m glad someone was there with her. It would have been tough for her to handle that alone.”

  “I think it was pretty bad for both of us,” Tulia said, not sure what else to say. “She mentioned she knew him. I’m sure that made it harder for her, and it was hard enough for me even though I’d never seen him before in my life.”

  “Knew him?” Devon cut in, raising an eyebrow. “She and Tom used to da—” He broke off with an oof when Benny elbowed him in the stomach, hard. Both young men got up, Benny glaring daggers at Devon until he walked away. He glanced at Tulia and held her gaze for a second, then forced a smile to his face.

  “Hey!” he called out, getting Angela’s attention over the wind and the sound of the engine. “We’re far enough out, aren’t we? Let’s drop the anchor and crack some drinks open!”

  Tulia stroked the top of Cicero’s head idly, watching as Benny and Devon propped the cooler open and Angela cut the engine. There was an air of celebration in the air, but it felt forced, false. As false as the smile that she pasted on her own face.

  Something was wrong here, but whatever it was, a mile out onto one of the deepest and largest freshwater lakes in the world wasn’t the time or place for her to press the issue.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The hours they spent on the lake would have been fun at any other time. Tulia felt bad that her smile was strained and that her laughter rang false. Angela had put this outing together for her, and she wished she could just enjoy it like she would have in any other circumstances, but the longer she spent in the company of her companions, the more convinced she became that something was wrong. There was an undercurrent to all of their interactions, something that almost felt like suspicion as Angela interacted with her brother, or as Benny and Devon tossed each other a drink without quite looking at each other.

  She was relieved when they finally made their way back to shore. By then, she had a headache from the sun and wanted nothing more than to lay in a dark, cool room and rest for a while, but she didn’t want to get sucked in to staying for yet another night. As they walked to where they had parked their cars—the SUV was gone, and she still wasn’t sure whether the two men from the diner had been in it or not—she gave Angela her best smile.

  “I think I’m going to head out when we get back. I don’t want to waste too much daylight.”

  “Oh, are you sure?” Angela asked. “You’re welcome to stay another night, if you want.”

  “I’m sure,” Tulia said firmly. “I’m itching to get out of Michigan. I’m excited to see some new places.”

  “I understand.” Angela gave her a small smile as she opened the trunk of her car and heaved the cooler in. “You’ve got a whole adventure ahead of you.”

  She settled Cicero into his travel cage and helped the others finish loading up their car, then got into the driver’s seat of her own vehicle and started the engine. As they pulled out onto the road, she kept her eyes peeled for the black SUV, but it was nowhere to be seen. Between the men with the SUV and whatever was going on with Angela and the others, she felt like she was beginning to lose her mind. It would be good to hit the road again, just her, Cicero, and her favorite songs.

  Still, she felt a pang as she pulled into Angela’s driveway and realized that she’d be saying goodbye for good in a matter of minutes. She wasn’t sure if she trusted Angela completely, but she couldn’t forget how kind the other woman had been throughout this entire disaster. So much had happened, both positive and negative. Getting away would give her a chance to clear her head.

  “Let me put Cicero back in his cage, then I’ll help you bring everything in,” she offered once they had parked and gotten out of their vehicles.

  “Don’t worry about it, Benny and Devon can help me. You can focus on getting ready to go. Trash day is Monday, so if you have anything you want to throw away, feel free to toss it in my dumpster. I figure that’ll save you a stop somewhere else to do it.”

  “Thanks,” Tulia said with a smile. “I appreciate that.”

  She let herself into the RV and grabbed an empty garbage bag. Since she hadn’t exactly spent much time in it yet, there wasn’t very much trash for her to clean out, but she found an empty water bottle to throw away, along with the garbage from when she stopped to get fast food. Then, she went to the fridge and grabbed her leftover pasty. She had completely forgotten about it after her RV was stolen, and while it might still be good, the thought of eating it wasn’t exactly appealing, since the person who killed Tom was probably the same one who had been alone in her RV for who knew how long. It probably wasn’t very likely that they would have poisoned her food, but she didn’t want to risk it.

  As she was pulling the bag out of the fridge, the receipt, which had been stuck to the bottom of it, fluttered down to the floor. She shoved the bag with the pasty in it into the garbage bag, then crouched down to pick up the receipt. As she did so, she noticed something white sticking out from under the fridge. It was just the corner of something, and at first, she thought it might be a napkin, or a bit of paper towel, but when she touched the corner that was poking out, she realized it was fabric.

  Frowning, she tugged at it. Whatever it was was really shoved under the fridge, so she set the garbage bag down and tugged harder. Finally, it came loose, and as it did, the bad smell she’d noticed in her kitchen that morning grew stronger.

  The bundle of fabric unfolded in her hands, and she stared at the dark stain on it. It smelled like blood that had gone bad and stale sweat. It was disgusting, but she couldn’t stop staring at it.

  The RV had been brand new when she bought it. There was no way this had been there before. The only explanation for how such a disgusting shirt ended up shoved under the fridge in her RV was that the person who had stolen it had left it there.

  It was a man’s T-shirt, at least in design. The only question was … whose? She didn’t have any doubts now that the RV thief and the person who had killed Tom were the same person, but she didn’t feel any closer to knowing who that person was. Samuel and Marc, the mysterious men with the black SUV, might be behind it. They certainly acted oddly enough for it to seem possible, but after the conversation between Angela and the person who had either been her brother or Devon, she’d begun to suspect that it was one of them. The problem was that neither Benny nor Devon had been in the area when Tom was killed. Angela had had to go get them both from Ishpeming that night.

  Ishpeming … where her RV had been found. She didn’t know how she hadn’t made the connection before, but now it seemed impossible to miss. Had Devon or Benny been at the diner when she first arrived and gotten into a fight with Tom? If one or both of them had been there and were trying to cover up a murder … did Angela know about it?

  She straightened to her feet, feeling sick as she pinched the shirt in one of the cleaner corners and looked around for somewhere to put it. It might be important DNA evidence, but she didn’t want to have to touch it for any longer than she had to.

  Someone knocked on the door to the RV. She turned and stared at it, wide-eyed. The last thing she wanted was to talk to any of them, especially with blood-stained evidence literally in her hand. Maybe if she just kept quiet, they would think she was in the bathroom or something and go away.

  But then Cicero called out, “Hello? Who is it? Come on in!” in a perfect imitation of her mother’s voice … which sounded enough like hers that the person on the other side of the door didn’t even hesitate before turning the knob.

  Angela stepped up into the RV, a smile on her face that froze, and then fell when she saw Tulia holding the bloody shirt.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “What is that?”

  Tulia looked down at the shirt. She considered lying, but only for a second. What lie could she even tell that would be believed?

  “It’s a bloody shirt. I just found it under my fridge.”

  They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then Angela squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh. Oh, my goodness.”

  “Angela?”

  The other woman shook her head rapidly, as if wanting to deny every word she was hearing. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. “Are you sure? Are you sure that whoever owned the RV before you didn’t leave it behind?”

  “I bought the RV new.”

  The other woman gave a short, sharp laugh. “And you still say you’re a waitress. Right.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. Can I sit down?”

  “Of course.”

  Angela staggered further into the RV, letting the door fall shut behind her. She walked past Cicero’s cage and collapsed onto the built-in sofa.

  “I just… I don’t understand,” she whispered, staring at her hands.

  Tulia dropped the shirt onto the crumpled trash bag in front of the fridge. She wasn’t throwing it away, but she didn’t want to keep holding it. “What’s going on, Angela?”

  The other woman shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You know something.”

  Angela took a shuddering breath, looked at the shirt where it lay crumpled on the plastic bag, then burst into tears.

  Tulia didn’t know what to do. “What—”

  Before she could finish asking Angela what was wrong, the other woman stood up and started making her way back toward the RV door. “Sorry, sorry. I just… I can’t…” She trailed off with a sob, then pushed her way out of the vehicle.

 

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