Page 16 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“G-green,” he choked out. “Lily Green.”

Green. One of the nurses at the nursing home where my grandmother had lived before she passed was a Green. “What about Lily Green?”

Another tear dripped down Conor’s face. “Over there.”

“Over . . .” I trailed off and my stomach found a new bottom.

No. Not again.

I swallowed hard and stood, knowing without asking what I was going to find.

On leaden feet, I walked through the tall grass to the corner post and climbed the fence. My boots followed the same roughly trodden path that Conor must have taken.

Above me, the tower of Indigo Ridge rose into the blue sky. Its bold rock face caught the sun. This place was as intimidating as it was beautiful. A solid wall of rock that cut through the fields in such a harsh line that it was like the mountain had been cleaved from top to toe. The rocks at its base were as black and harsh as the cliff’s face.

I climbed toward the rocks I’d avoided for ages. I hadn’t been on this side of the fence in years. Not since I’d found the body.

The last body.

My gaze landed on a streak of blond hair. On a white dress. On mangled limbs. On a river of blood.

On Lily Green.

Chapter Three

Winslow

“I’m going to run home and grab a new shirt,” I told Janice, frowning at the mess I’d made of my white blouse.

My sleeve, stained with black coffee, was as much of a disaster as my desk. Folders, reports and sticky notes cluttered the brown wooden surface. Or was it gray? I hadn’t seen it in two days.

I was officially buried.

When Janice had come in to tell me that it was time for the weekly staff meeting with the administration crew—an unofficial standing meeting that hadn’t been on my calendar—I’d been in such a rush to join them that when I’d gone to grab my coffee mug, a blob had leapt out of the cup and splattered my shirt.

“Will you call me if anything comes up?” I asked.

“Of course.” She smiled and walked for the door, pausing at the threshold. “You’re doing great, Winslow.”

“Am I? Because I feel like I’m drowning.” Something I’d only admit to Janice. She was my one and only ally at the station. Winning people over was going slower than I’d expected. Much slower.

It was my age. No one had outwardly admitted that they thought I was too young—not to my face. But the sideways looks had held unspoken words. Doubts.

I can do this job.

Maybe the others doubted me but I wasn’t about to doubt myself. Much.

“You’re drinking from a fire hose ri

ght now, but it will get easier,” Janice promised. “And the folks here will come around. Give it time.”

I sighed. “Thank you.”

She gave me a sure nod, then slipped away for her spotless desk.

Taking my purse from the bottom drawer, I scanned the piles of reports to review and officer résumés to read. Tonight, I’d take another stack home and read over them like I had last night. I was in learning mode, trying to familiarize myself with the staff. I’d also had Janice pull every case file from the past three months so I could glean what type of crimes happened in Quincy.

So far, it had been nothing more than four drunken drivers, a busted high school kegger, one bar fight and a domestic disturbance. Janice had warned me that there was a meth arrest hidden in the mix but I hadn’t reached that file yet.