Page 16 of Trapper Road

Kez curses. “How does this keep happening?”

“Connor saw it happen. He was a witness.”

“No,” she gasps, horrified.

“The shooter was one of his close friends,” I add. It’s a strange thing to say. It still doesn’t feel real. I know Kevin — he’s sat at my kitchen table for family dinners. He’s spent the night. I may not have liked him all that much, but I never thought him capable of something like this.

Then again, it never occurred to me that Melvin could have been capable of the violence he committed. Maybe I’m just bad at reading people.

She’s silent as she takes this in. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s still at the school. The police are talking to him.”

She draws a breath, but I already know what she’s going to say. “Don’t worry, Sam’s with him,” I assure her. “I suggested we call a lawyer, but Connor wanted to talk.”

“Do you need me? I can be there in a couple of hours.”

I feel incredibly grateful to have such loyal and dedicated friends. There was a time in my life when I thought I’d never be able to trust anyone again. “Thank you, but I think we’ll be okay.”

“You’ll let me know if that changes, right?”

I smile. “Of course I won’t.”

“Gwen Proctor,” she says with fake admonishment.

“I’m not asking a woman who’s nearly twenty weeks pregnant to jump in her car and come put herself in potential danger. Again.”

“You know I’m a police detective, right? Danger isn’t really a thing I shy away from.”

“I know. Though I wish you would. And of course I’ll call if I need you.”

“You’d better.”

“How is the little bean?” Given the horror of today, it’s nice to remember that there are good things in the world as well.

Her voice softens and I can hear her smile. “He’s good.”

“He?” The last time I’d spoken with Kez, she and her partner Javier hadn’t learned the sex of their baby.

“Or she. I go back and forth. I went in for an ultrasound earlier this week but the tech couldn’t get a good look.” She laughs. “Apparently he — or she — is shy.”

“You had an ultrasound? I thought the big 20-week anatomy scan wasn’t for another couple of weeks?”

“It’s not. I had some cramping and spotting while at work, and Javi freaked out and drove me to the hospital. Don’t worry. They checked everything out, and the baby and I are fine.” She says it nonchalantly as though it’s no big deal, but still, I’m worried.

“You’re not working too hard, are you?”

“Here I thought with Prester no longer around I wouldn’t have anyone to nag me about my work habits.”

“I’m sure, between your father and Javi, you’re getting more than enough encouragement to take it easy.”

She laughs. “You have no idea. Between the two of them, I’ve never eaten better.”

It’s easy to picture the two men doting over Kez. They both adore her, and rightfully so. I feel a ping of sadness that I’m not there with her. Being pregnant with your first kid can be scary, and I know how useful it can be to have another woman around who’s been through it before.

It’s an old wound, one that still aches. We’d made Stillhouse Lake a home only to be driven out by a local crime family unhappy with the amount of attention my ex-husband brought to the area. Sometimes I still hold out hope that the Belldenes will be taken down, but so far they’ve managed to evade every authority’s attempt to bring them to justice.

“You been by the house lately?” I ask. When we first moved to Knoxville last year we tried to sell the house at Stillhouse Lake with no luck. Eventually we settled on renting it out and we’ve been modestly successful. Mostly those who rent it are looking for a quiet vacation by the lake. Every now and again we get someone renting it because of the notoriety of belonging to Melvin Royal’s ex-wife. That’s when it’s useful to have a best friend who’s a cop.

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