Love Inspired Suspense April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Laura Scott (free e reader .TXT) 📕

“For you and the other survivors?” Shelley asked.

“It makes sense,” Paige said.

Paige saw Liam’s gaze on her. What did he want her to say? She couldn’t fathom the expression in his eyes. “My brother died in the accident, too,” she told Shelley. She’d never shared that with anyone at work. It was time she did.

Shelley reached for Paige’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”

“Can you help me?” he asked after a moment’s pause. “Before anyone else dies.” The words were choked out, causing Paige to wince in sympathy.

“You came to the right place, Mr. McKenzie.” Shelley stood. “Paige is one of our best operatives. She’ll keep you safe and help you figure out who’s behind this.” She turned to Paige. “Show Mr. McKenzie to your office. Come up with a plan and then get back to me.”

Paige stood, as well. “Liam, come with me.” Inside her office, she gestured to a chair. It was a bare-bones room, with little of herself in it. She liked it that way. At work, she wasn’t reminded of the heartache of the past.

A utilitarian desk with one chair behind it and another in front plus a file cabinet were the only furnishings. She gestured to the uncomfortable-looking visitors’ chair. The hard-backed chair minus cushions kept people from lingering.

Paige perched on the edge of the desk and gave him a moment to settle himself, taking the opportunity to study him. He hadn’t changed much. Still drop-dead handsome. Still tall with the rangy good looks that had set most of the high school girls to daydreaming about him. His shoulders had broadened, his waist narrowed, the muscles hinted at in the boy he’d been more defined.

But if she were to point to the one thing that set him apart from the Liam McKenzie of fifteen years ago, it was his eyes. They were shadowed now, holding depths of hard-won experience and more than a little pain.

“Are you absolutely certain this is about the accident all those years ago? That’s a long time to hold a grudge.” Even as she said the words, she recognized that fifteen years was nothing in the South, where memories were long with feuds dating back several generations.

“The deaths you’ve described are very different. I’m not saying you’re mistaken,” she said when he would have protested, “but it’s a stretch. Statistically, in any group, you’re going to have deaths, whether they be due to a fall or diving accident or a fire.”

“There’s a pattern here, outside the attack on me and my son,” he insisted. “I know it. I feel it.”

“We need more information, something that points to these deaths being related to the bus accident.”

“If they’re not related, I’m more at a loss than ever. But it’s too much of a coincidence to believe that three of the survivors have died in the last six weeks unconnected with each other.”

“Have any of the other survivors died? Or just those three?”

“Six weeks ago, Sam Newley died, but of natural causes. He had leukemia. It was only a matter of time. I attended the funeral, along with several others from my class.” Liam shook his head several times as though to erase a painful memory. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes were bleak. “Sam was a good guy, always looking for the best in others. I’m glad he can’t see what’s going on now.”

Since Liam and the others of his class were five years older than her, she had to search her memory for a picture of Sam to bring up. Tall. Nerdy. Not handsome, but nice. “So, as far as you know, the others are still alive.”

“That’s right. With Sam gone and now these so-called accidents taking three others, that leaves six of us.” A grim smile tipped his lips. “I don’t want to wait around to see who’s next.”

“Are you close to any of the survivors?”

“We used to meet every so often. We vowed we would all do something important with our lives, a kind of pledge to honor those who died. For a while, we’d get together every year.”

“That’s great.” For years after the accident, she’d longed to connect with someone who had been there with Brett during his last moments. Her parents had all but shut down emotionally after losing their only son. They’d refused to talk about Brett, refused to listen to her memories as she tried to keep him alive.

There’d been no time or patience for their daughter’s tears and grief. Eventually, she’d learned to keep both to herself. Brett lived on because love lived on.

She’d loved her big brother with all her heart and still did. He had been not only her brother but also her best friend. Being two years younger than even the freshmen, she’d had little interaction with them. For the most part, they’d shunned her, treating her as an oddity at best, and, at worst, a pariah, one who skewed the curve with her remarkable mind.

But Brett had always been there, ready to listen when she poured out her loneliness, ready to take on anyone who mistreated her. Not many wanted to mess with one of the school’s star football players, especially one who stood six feet two inches and came in at a hefty 190 pounds.

Normally easygoing, Brett had been fiercely protective of his little sister. Once, when some upperclassmen had backed her against a bank of lockers, calling her “Superbrain,” he’d gotten in their faces and threatened to mop the floor with them. The message had been clear: you want to mess with my little sister, you’ll have to go through me.

No one had ridiculed her again, at least not in Brett’s hearing.

“Yeah. Too bad it didn’t work out.” The rueful tone of his voice told its own story.

“Let me guess. The group met for a few years and then everyone went their own way.”

“Good guess. I still hear from some of them now and