“A ranger found remains in the woods today.”
I wondered who they’d found. Dad wouldn’t be telling me, not in front of Rafe.
Before I could speak, a deputy came up and slapped my dad on the back. The deputy had more than a bit of a bulge near his stomach—too many doughnuts—and small, snapping black eyes. “Another animal attack, huh, Sheriff? That’s the second kill we found this week! I’m thinking we might need to open us an early huntin’ season on—”
“Deputy!”
I saw Rafe stiffen.
My dad took a deep breath. “Deputy Hollis, go secure the scene.”
The deputy glanced my way, and he finally seemed to realize that, whoops, civilians were there. “Yes, sir.”
The black bag was loaded into the back of a van. Wait, was that an ME’s van? I hadn’t even realized that Haven had its own ME. Almost impressive.
“Go wait in my car, Anna,” My dad told me in his no-arguing, dead-serious voice.
I glanced at him, then at Rafe. I knew when to pick my battles. Besides, I wanted to get as far away from Rafe as I could right then.
I can’t. How insulting was that?
Between the body and my boiling rage, I needed to get away from everything right then. “Thanks for the ride,” I managed to say to Rafe.
His head inclined. I brushed by him.
I didn’t look back, well, not until I was at my dad’s car. Then I risked a fast glance over my shoulder. My dad had leaned in real close to Rafe, and I could tell by the expressions on their faces that they were both angry. Then Rafe spun away, jumped on his motorcycle, and roared down the road.
Not the smartest move when so many deputies were nearby. Surprisingly, no one gave chase.
When my dad turned back to look at me, I expected to see more anger on his face. Instead, I just saw fear.
Unease rippled beneath my skin as I wondered what could make my dad—a man who’d taken out cold-blooded killers—afraid?
I didn’t think I wanted to know.
Chapter Four
Friday night in Haven. Party time.
Or, game time.
The roar of the crowd filled my ears as everyone around me shot to their feet. The football players burst through the giant “Murder Mayville!” sign, ripping and shredding the decorated sheet as they launched onto the field.
Jenny jumped up and down beside me, shouting her heart out. Shouting mostly for Troy.
Seriously?
I rubbed my head. Dad almost hadn’t let me come out tonight. The guy had put me on lockdown for the last two days. So I’d slipped away from the bus and driven home with Rafe—did that really require a freak-out?
According to him, yes. Extreme yes.
“They are so hot!” Jenny collapsed onto the bleacher. “Look at the way the uniform shows off their butts—isn’t that just awesome?”
It was the first game of the season, and the field behind the school was packed. The cheerleaders clapped their way down the line of bleachers, and the crowd began to chant along with them.
I didn’t know a word of these chants. My claps were off rhythm. I was so out of my element.
I’d been to football games before. I’d lost bets and had to back in Chicago. But football just wasn’t for me.
“Look!” Jenny’s fingers clamped onto my arm. Luckily, she clamped down a few inched below my claw marks. “There’s Brent!”
His head bent as he listened to the coach. He had black paint spread under each eye, and his helmet hung loosely from his right hand. In that green jersey and wearing those tight, white pants, I had to admit that Jenny was right.
He did look pretty awesome. Yes, indeed.
Then the coach left him. Brent looked up at the bleachers. His gaze swept over the crowd, like he was looking for someone. Like—
He waved.
I glanced over my shoulder at the exact moment that Jenny told me, “OhmyGod! He’s waving at you.”
I looked back at the field. Brent was smiling now. I couldn’t see his dimples, not from this far away, but it would have been impossible to miss the flash of his white teeth.
Using that death-grip on my arm, Jenny jerked up my hand and waved back at him.
A referee blew his whistle and a drumbeat of music rolled over the loudspeakers.
Brent turned away.
“Oh, she totally hates you,” Jenny said in her cheerful voice.
Because she did sound so cheerful, it took a moment for her words to register. “What?” I dragged my gaze off Brent. Not really interested in you. He was sure acting interested.
Rafe could bite me.
“Drift your gaze five feet to the right,” she directed me.
I did. The cheerleaders were making a pyramid. Well, most of them were. Valerie wasn’t climbing up that human wall because she had her hands on her hips, and she was too busy glaring at me.