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her sanctuary, Paige’s escape when the memories threatened to cripple her. She closed her eyes and reveled in the night songs. As she let the stress pour off her bones, her hand crept to the bracelet on her left wrist. Her fingers played with the beads, rolling them around as exhaustion crept up on her. She pictured Skye as she’d last seen her—a strong, athletic body and natural beauty Paige couldn’t compete with. Skye had been so happy then and couldn’t wait to attend Colby on a full scholarship. Then she was gone. Skye’s disappearance left Paige with too many questions. Had someone hurt her friend? Or did Skye harbor a secret, something that drove her from Wolf Lake?

The hedges rustled, snapping Paige’s eyes open. She set the wine down and glanced toward the sound, expecting an animal to scurry out of the underbrush. Shadows lengthened as the sun died in a bloody inferno. She stood and wandered into the yard. While she scanned the hedges, her arms prickled with goosebumps. Someone was watching her.

Paige snatched the glass and rushed inside the house. She locked the patio door and drew the curtains, feeling stupid for giving in to paranoia.

The converted attic offered the best view of the backyard. If someone was outside the house, she’d see them. She took the stairs two at a time, not stopping until she climbed into the attic. Paige slipped toward the window and stood in the shadows, still sensing eyes on her. The hedges blocked her view of the neighbor’s yard. For once, she wished the hedges weren’t there and she could see the house next door. She plunged a hand into her pocket and came up empty. The damn phone was downstairs on the kitchen table.

Paige waited five minutes. She unfroze her body and stepped away from the window. Maybe it had been an animal in the hedges. But as she descended the stairs, the night breeze touched her flesh. She paused on the lower landing and stared at the front door. It was open.

Her eyes flashed between the living room and upper landing for somewhere to flee. If someone was in the house, she needed to choose wisely.

A light shone in the kitchen. Had she left the light on?

Paige stepped to the threshold and placed her back against the wall. Listened. Silence bled out of the kitchen.

She needed her phone.

Mustering her courage, she clenched her teeth and spun around the wall. The kitchen lay empty.

Except for the friendship bracelet on the kitchen counter.

* * *

Deputy Lambert’s cruiser pulled to the curb at the same time Thomas arrived in his truck. Still dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, Thomas wished he’d had time to change into his uniform. When dispatch mentioned Paige Sutton’s name, Thomas had snapped to attention. Earlier Sheriff Gray discussed Paige and Justine Adkins, Skye Feron’s friends from high school. It wasn’t a coincidence someone broke into Paige’s house after her missing friend’s name surfaced.

Paige Sutton waited in the entryway. The blonde wore torn jean shorts and a halter top.

“Ms. Sutton?” Thomas asked as they approached the stoop. “I’m Sheriff Shepherd, and this is Deputy Lambert.”

“Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Are you certain someone was inside your home?”

Paige bobbed her head.

“Please follow me. I need to show you something.”

Lambert shared a glance with Thomas. As they climbed the stoop, Thomas ran his eyes over the thick hedges surrounding the property. Lots of privacy. Too many places for an intruder to hide. Lambert noticed too. He lifted his chin at Thomas.

“I’ll check the yard while you interview Sutton.”

Thomas watched Lambert disappear around the corner before he followed Paige inside. The interior was immaculate. High ceilings and hardwood floors. The living room opened to the dining room, where a table for eight stretched across the floor. The house smelled of overkill. What was a twenty-three-year-old single doing in a house like this? The Sutton family fell into the upper half of middle class. Comfortable, but not rich enough to bequeath their daughter a three-hundred-thousand dollar home.

“In the kitchen, Sheriff,” Paige said, breaking Thomas out of his stupor.

The remodeled kitchen featured an island in the center with pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. Paige stood at the kitchen counter with her hands cupping her elbows. She kept glancing at the windows, painted black by the night.

“The bracelet,” Paige croaked, pointing to the beaded bracelet on the counter.

Thomas locked his eyes on the matching bracelet around Paige’s wrist.

“This isn’t yours?”

“It isn’t mine. Why do you think I called you?”

“Do you know who the bracelet belongs to?”

Paige dragged a tissue beneath her nose and paced between the island and counter.

“There were only three of them. They belonged to me, Justine, and Skye.”

Thomas raised his eyes.

“Skye Feron?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know this bracelet belongs to Skye?”

“Because Justine left her bracelet at home. She’s in Wolf Lake, visiting.”

“Is Justine in town because of the news?”

Paige sobbed and nodded. Thomas rested his back against the counter, wondering what Paige was hiding.

“Start at the beginning. Tell me what happened tonight.”

The woman recounted hearing someone in the yard while she sat on the patio, then finding the front door open after she descended the stairs.

“And that’s when I found the bracelet on the counter.”

“Is anything missing from the house?”

“I don’t believe so.”

This didn’t sound like a typical break in. Thomas donned gloves and plucked the bracelet off the counter.

“May I?”

“Yes.”

Thomas examined the bracelet under the light, searching for a stray hair or something to identify the person who touched it last. After he slipped it into an evidence bag, he turned to Paige. The blonde woman eyed the evidence bag as though she stared at a ghost.

“No offense, but the bracelet doesn’t appear expensive. There must be thousands available for purchase.”

Paige swung her head back and forth.

“No. We made them when we were twelve. The beads are identical and placed in the same order. You won’t find these bracelets for sale.”

“I understand.”

Thomas glanced up when Deputy Lambert strode

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