He was swearing when I ended the call. The dog and I moved through the thicket of tall grass. The trees thinned. Cody paused to hike his leg and pee. He was chill, given the week he’d had. I liked that about him. No drama. Just one foot in front of another.
Ahead I heard the rumble of car tires, so I knelt, pulling Cody with me. “Shh,” I said.
The dog wagged his tail. I fed him a few treats.
A car drove down the dirt road and parked at the barn. Bailey rose out of it. She was dressed in jeans, a simple pullover, and old shoes. She removed dark sunglasses and surveyed the barn.
An older truck pulled up behind Bailey’s car. It was unmarked, but there was no missing Paxton’s bulky form as he emerged from it. Bailey slipped her glasses back on and whirled around, her body stiff.
“Bailey, what are you doing here?” Paxton asked.
“Looking at the property. I hear the land might be for sale. You know me. I love me a good bit of land.”
“You’re trespassing,” Paxton said.
She smiled. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see the barn. Trying to figure out how expensive it’ll be to tear it down.”
“You going to demolish the barn?”
“Yes. I’ll sell it for parts and scrap.”
Paxton stepped toward her. Even from this distance I could see his body tense as he studied her. “Remember Tristan Fletcher?”
Bailey took a step back. “You been talking to that reporter. She’s dug up all kinds of trouble surrounding the Festival Four.”
“That’s right.”
“What about her?” Bailey walked toward him.
“She’s alive. Sloane found her.”
Bailey laughed. “She’s lying. She’s trying to shake us all up so someone says something stupid.”
“What kind of stupid things would someone say?”
“Something like this. Sloane is trying to spook us.”
“Why us?”
“We were both at the concert. She sees us both as suspects.”
Her hand slipped into her purse, and she pulled out a revolver. Without hesitating, she shot Paxton in the chest. The bullet’s impact knocked him backward, and he fell to the ground. She moved toward Paxton and stood over his still body.
Bailey was a little more bloodthirsty than I’d imagined. But I only underestimated someone once.
“Come on out, Sloane,” Bailey said. “You set this little meeting up, so let’s finish it.”
I wrapped Cody’s leash around a bush and then I rose. My gun pressing in the small of my back, I studied Paxton’s beefy frame. His chest moved very slightly. He’d been wearing his bulletproof vest.
I moved toward her, not daring a look at Paxton.
“When did you figure it out?” Bailey leveled the gun on me.
“Takes one to know one, I suppose. I’ve faked emotions for so long I can spot another faker.” I’d learned at an early age to smile or cry when my grandmother needed a reaction. Both achieved the desired effectbecause I was savvy enough to use my whole body to project the desired emotion. Bailey’s smiles flashed bright, but they didn’t reach her eyes. A rookie mistake, as far as I was concerned.
“What was my tell?”
I ignored the question. “Paxton was right. Tristan is alive.”