Page 2 of Defend Me

“And the night of the anniversary party…”

“Sheriff, come on,” I say. “It’s me.”

I’m happy to answer any questions but this is getting ridiculous. I’m acop, for god’s sake. I’m not a murderer.

He raises one eyebrow, his expression cold and impassive. My pulse tics up a notch.

“I know who you are,” he says. It feels like ice is crystallizing in my veins. I go cold all over and my knee starts to shake.

He opens the file but suddenly we hear raised voices coming from the hall.

“One minute,” he says, picking up the folder and leaving the room. I rub my forehead as my leg bounces, jittery.

When the door opens again, the sheriff isn’t alone.

Caden is with him.

Relief charges through me.

My best friend has changed in the five years since he fled Magnolia Bay. He’s got tattoos, a new-found conviction, and a lot more muscle mass. He left the day after the murder and only returned this summer because I told him Marion’s case was about to get shelved. But he’s still the kid I used to play frisbee with in the summers. He’s still the guy I got drunk for the first time with at age fifteen, the friend I poured my heart out to when my first girlfriend dumped me, the man who always had my back despite the fact that we come from totally opposite sides of the track.

Right now, though, his expression is calculated as he takes me in. Not warm and friendly, not concerned, not outraged that I’ve been wrongfully arrested. Something thick and slimy slithers in the pit of my stomach.

“Give us a minute,” he says to the sheriff. “Alone.”

Sheriff Briggs glances back and forth between us—this is definitely not following procedure but no one in this town says no to an Everton.

“You’ve got five,” he says, then leaves.

There’s a long silence in which Caden and I stare at each other. I hold his gaze, unflinching.

“Did you do this?” Caden demands.

“No,” I say, starting to feel desperate now. Caden has always been on my side. We’ve had each other’s backs our whole lives. “Please,” I say, unable to keep the edge of panic out of my voice. “You’ve got to believe me. I would never hurt your mom. I swear. I swear on my own parents’ graves, Caden.”

There’s a pause and then his face crumples with relief. “I know,” he says. “I just needed to hear you say it.”

“Oh thank god,” I say, sinking into the chair. My body is trembling. I didn’t realize how badly I needed someone to say they believed me.

Caden takes the seat opposite me.

“But why are your fingerprints on that casing?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Caden, I swear. I do not know how any of this is possible.”

“The night of the anniversary party,” Caden says. “The night before Mom was murdered, Isla said she overheard Mom talking to someone, arguing with someone—someone we’re now pretty sure was her stalker, the man who killed her.”

I feel like I’ve been soldered into my chair. My jaw hangs open, dumbstruck.

“He was at the party?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

Caden nods.

I was there. I wasfucking thereand I failed to protect her.

When Caden found those strange letters in a locked drawer in his house— letters written to his mother, professing an undying love along with barely concealed threats—it was a shock to everyone that Marion may have had a stalker. And it would make sense that this mystery man would act if he felt he was being rejected.

But to know that this man was at that fateful party, hidden in plain sight, schmoozing with guests and blending in with the scene…did he know then that he would kill her the next morning? Or was her final rejection the thing that pushed him over the edge?

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