Page 1 of Chasing the Fall

One

Twiggy

As far as partiesgo, tonight’s Friendsgiving isn’tawful. The non-peopling introvert side of me would much rather be plugged in and doing something online, but it could be worse.

And the bourbon, a gift from Wyatt to Gunner in honor of his recent twenty-first birthday, isfantastic.

I look around the table at the assembled company—Gunner and Shiloh, Harry and Wyatt, Cotton and Brodie, Sammy…Esme…Jack—and warmth spreads through me at the thought of how lucky I am to have these people in my life. Lucy Falls is a small town, but it’s managed to produce some pretty awesome personalities. We’re a motley crew, composed of a former exotic dancer, joint heirs to a vineyard, a cop, and an enforcer for the Irish mob. And that’s just for starters.

“Y’all are all…sooo nice,” I mutter from behind the heavy lowball in my hand. “I love you guys.”

Everyone falls quiet. Cotton, aka Emery and my cousin Brodie’s wife, snorts. “Are you drunk?” She glances around. “How much has she had to drink? You guys know she can’t hold her liquor.”

“I’m not drunk! I just really, really love you. All of you. Even Gunner, though he’s a pain in my ass.”

Shiloh squints at me from the other end of the long table that’s currently buried under a mountain of Thanksgiving dishes. “I think there was a cider when she got here…and then an old-fashioned…and now it’s straight whiskey? Am I forgetting something?”

Gunner is shaking his head. “She had some of that wine Harry brought, too. She’s definitely drunk.”

I am not drunk. I flip them a friendly bird instead of arguing, though, and tip my glass up for another sip. The whiskey burns a hot trail down my throat, but I don’t cough. I am Irish, after all.

We have standards.

“Eat some more mashed potatoes, Twig. You’re too skinny, anyway.” Gunner passes the bowl of mashed potatoes my way, and I push it back.

“I have eaten so much I’m about to burst. I’m fine. When I start puking, then I’m drunk.”

“I’m kind of jealous, to be honest,” Cotton says, rubbing the tiny bump of her belly. “I haven’t had the good stuff in too many months now.”

“Emery…” Brodies eyes her with playful warning. He’s the only one who calls her by her actual name.

“I think it is so sweet,” I say.

Again, there’s quiet. Harry clears her throat. “What’s sweet?”

“How he calls her by her real name, and she lets him get away with it. It’s sweet. You would light Wyatt up if he called you Harriet. And I’m the same way with my actual name.”

Gunner tips his head and puts a finger to his lip, as if he’s thinking. “Whatisyour real name? I seem to have forgotten…oh yeah! Tallulah!” Laughter rings out.

I growl. “That’s it—”

Jack’s radio chirps, and his phone rings simultaneously, silencing everyone. He’s off tonight, but as Chief of Police, he’s technically on duty all the time. No one would be interrupting his Friendsgiving unless it was something serious, though.

A voice comes through the radio’s speaker, full of static. “…body at Lucy Falls…all units…”

Jack turns the dial on his radio, snuffing the volume, and steps away from the table to make a call. We all look at one another, tension stretching between us, and suddenly, I am very, very sober.

Lucy Falls has been quiet for a long time—well over a year—but none of us have forgotten the terrors played out here by a deranged stalker with a relentless obsession.

And like the calm before a storm, our peace was bound to break sooner or later.

I sneak a look at Jack, standing in the living room of Shiloh and Gunner’s home but still visible through the doorway. His back is to us but rigid, and as I watch he scrubs his hand over the back of his head in a single frustrated motion. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

He replies in muted, clipped tones before hanging up. For a moment, he stands there, still turned away.

“Jack?” It’s Harry who poses the tentative question. For a brief while, before she fell in love with Wyatt, I think Jack had feelings for her. Now they’re just good friends, bonded by shared childhood and adult experience.

Jack turns, his gaze brushing over each of us. “I have to go. Hiker found a body up at the Falls.”

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