Page 24 of Raging Inferno

Sadness washed over Jessie’s face. “I was shocked and upset to hear she’d passed.”

“And Nancy Baker.”

Jessie blinked, and her brow furrowed. “What about her?”

“She and her husband died in a fire yesterday evening.”

“No.” Jessie fell to the sofa and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, no.”

Presley sat beside her and placed an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry to deliver the news to you. You were still close?”

Jessie’s arms dropped. “No. I haven’t talked to her in years.”

“What about Margy?”

“I lost touch with all the Cheerios.”

Presley was taken aback. Years ago, the girls had been inseparable. They had done everything together from the time they were five years old. It was strange that they still lived in the vicinity, yet they weren’t friends anymore.What the hell?

Jessie jumped to her feet, startling Presley.

“I could use a drink. Can I get one for either of you?”

Presley checked her watch. It was nine in the morning. “Uh, no.”

“I’m good,” Dominic responded.

Jessie moved to a wet bar in the corner and picked up a glass before opening a container and dropping ice inside with a pair of gold tongs. Then she poured clear liquid and slammed it back before refilling. Presley shot a glance at Dominic. He gave her a sympathetic look with a slight shrug.

Jessie retook her seat with glass in hand. “I don’t know what happened to the other girls. Life gets in the way, you know? We drifted apart.”

Presley wanted to find that hard to believe, but then, she hadn’t kept in touch with them either. In her defense, Gwen had been her link to the Cheerios. When she died, the chain had been broken.

“That’s horrible about Nancy,” Jessie said before downing half her glass.

“When was the last time you talked to her?” Dominic wanted to know.

Jessie absently swirled the liquid in her tumbler. “Years. Sometime after we graduated high school.”

“That long?” Presley was astonished.

Jessie shot her a quelling look. “It’s not so long ago. I’m notthatold.”

Maybe not in years, but her face looked decades older. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Jessie waved a hand. “I know you didn’t, Pep.”

Time scrolled backward again. It had been so long since she’d heard that nickname. Presley Erin Parrish. Pep. It had been Gwen who’d bestowed the moniker upon her, thinking it’d be funny since Presley wanted so badly to be a part of the pep squad. Sometimes, she’d wondered if the girls even knew her real name.

Jessie stared into her nearly empty glass. “We went our separate ways and drifted apart. I’ve certainly thought of them over the years, but not enough to pick up the phone. I’ve beenso busy, so I didn’t take the time to get in touch. They could’ve reached out to me too, you know.”

“I wasn’t accusing you of anything,” Presley insisted. “It surprised me because you were all such good friends.”

Jessie huffed a humorless chuckle. “We were, for a fact. Then, we lost our anchor. I can’t speak for the others, but it was hard to look at them and not picture Gwenie.”

There was nothing Presley could say since she felt the same way. Gwen’s funeral had been excruciating. Seeing the other five girls huddled together and crying had been her undoing. Gwen’s death had hit so hard that her parents had to take her home.

“You must know how I felt.”

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