Page 26 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

She glanced at the framed photo on the end table. “Your siblings?”

“All six of us. I’m the oldest. Then Knox. Lyla and Talia, the twins. Then there’s Eloise, who manages the inn.”

“Pops introduced me to her after lunch on Monday.”

That awful, tense lunch. “Mateo is the youngest. He’s working here on the ranch and at the inn until he decides what he wants to do.”

He’d probably take over a family business or start one of his own. That’s what the rest of us had done. My parents had instilled their entrepreneurial spirit in us all. And their love for Quincy.

Each of us had moved away for college. Knox and Talia had stayed away the longest, but eventually, the pull of Quincy and family had brought them home too.

Winslow studied the photo, memorizing our faces. Plenty of people had a hard time telling me and my siblings apart, especially when we’d been young. Our ages were close. Knox and I had the same build, though his tattoos set him apart. The girls were undeniably sisters.

But I suspected Winslow wouldn’t have any trouble recognizing my siblings. She was smart. Focused.

Good qualities in a cop.

“Okay, Chief.” I leaned my elbows onto my knees. “What do you want to know?”

She shifted, retrieving a small notepad and pen from the back pocket of her jeans. It was the same one she’d had on Wednesday. She flipped it open and the ballpoint pen hovered above the paper. “The trail up Indigo Ridge. What’s it used for?”

“Nothing these days. Before we bought the neighboring place, we used that trail to move cattle up the mountain. Even then it was rare. We’d only take it if we were having a drought and were short on grass. There’s a cutoff that winds to the back side of the ridge where we’ve got about two hundred acres.”

Her pen flew over the paper. “I think I saw that cutoff when I was up there.”

“It’s pretty overgrown now. After I bought the neighboring place, it gave us a direct road to the mountain. We haven’t moved cattle on that trail since.” Part of the reason that I’d pushed so hard to buy the neighboring property was because I hated moving cattle up that trail. It was steep and required we go single file, following the cattle by horse.

“I believe I saw that road too. Though road is probably a generous term. It was more like two tracks through the trees.”

“That’s the one.”

“Does anyone go up there? Or is it strictly for cattle?”

“My uncle. He lives there now. After I bought the neighbor’s place, he built a cabin in the mountains. It’s right on the border with the forest service. He’s been there for about a year.”

Her pen scratched on the paper as she made a note. “And would he have recalled seeing anyone coming up or down the trail?”

“No. His place isn’t anywhere near that trail.” And Briggs was struggling when it came to recollection these days.

“Do people come out there to go hiking?”

“Not without permission. And even then, I wouldn’t give it.” Not to Indigo Ridge.

“So no one ever goes out there.”

“Kids sometimes,” I admitted. “Curious kids who know that’s where two girls committed suicide. I caught a group of them last fall. Haven’t seen anyone up there since.”

“Was Lily with that group of kids?”

“No, they were younger. In high school.”

Her pen scratched another note. “The medical examiner determined that the time of death was likely late Sunday night, into early Monday morning. Would any of your employees have been in the area at that time? Or perhaps your uncle?”

“You want alibis.”

“Call it alibis if you’d like. I’m trying to determine if anyone would have seen her go up there and if she was really alone. We found her car parked off the highway. From where it was parked to the place where she would have jumped, it’s seven miles. I walked it yesterday, and it took me almost three hours. I’m wondering if someone might have seen her during that time.”

“No one who works for me.”