herself.
Megan piped up, "Heather was my friend. Emily, too. If she said he was guilty, then he was guilty." That was about as close as Megan came to dissing anyone, even a convicted killer.
The others punctuated her pronouncement with a litany of agreeable sounds and pacifying remarks.
As the high school's cheerleading coach, Justine had known both Heather and Emily well, as she did the rest of those present, excluding Jean of course. Might as well have her say. "Clint Austin killed Heather Baker in cold blood," Justine said, with a stern glance at Misty. Absolute silence fell over the shop as all waited in anticipation of what came next. "Emily was the one who sealed his fate at the trial." Justine looked from one expectant face to the other. "You all know she hasn't been the same since. Considering the lack of real evidence, without her testimony I imagine he would've gotten off scot-free."
Megan's eyes rounded with fear. "You don't think that's why he's back, do you? To hurt Emily?"
"No," Cathy rebutted. "Mike and Ray are all over this. Every cop on the force has orders to keep a close eye on Clint Austin. He's not going to get a chance to hurt anyone."
All eyes shifted back to Justine for her take on Cathy's argument. Justine turned her palms heavenward and offered a simple truth: "I don't know why Clint Austin is back. But if I were Emily Wallace, I'd be scared to death."
CHAPTER FOUR
Cedar Hill Cemetery
6:00 p.m.
Emily followed him.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to get the information on parole violations and the consequences. But keeping up with Austin's every move had to start now. He'd driven around for over an hour. She was pretty sure he'd recognized that he was being followed, but he made no attempt to lose her or to confront her. He just kept driving. Eventually he returned to town, visited Donna's Floral Shop, and then came here.
To the cemetery.
Emily hadn't anticipated that move. Only people who had hearts cared enough to visit the graves of their lost loved ones. Austin had no heart.
Still, he'd tracked down his mother's grave, laid the flowers he'd purchased on the headstone, and been standing there ever since. For about half an hour now.
Emily had eventually gotten out of her car. After wandering aimlessly, keeping one eye on him, she'd ended up at Heather's grave. The shiny black granite headstone displayed an inset cameo of Heather's senior picture. They'd gone for their portrait sittings just one week before the murder.
Emily dropped down to her knees and traced the picture of her friend. She missed her so much. There were so many things they were supposed to have done together. Like go off to Auburn for college as roommates. When wedding days came they would have been each other's maid and matron of honor. Godmothers to each other's children. Maybe even neighbors. Their whole lives had been plotted out with years of late-night talks and afternoons spent daydreaming.
Heather hadn't gotten to do any of those things, and neither had Emily. She had managed to muddle through two years at a small business school in Birmingham between lapses into depression, one major breakdown, and a couple of trial drug therapies. Eventually she'd gotten a job and ended up in charge of the files department at a research facility.
Things pretty much began and ended there.
Nothing had turned out anything like she'd planned. For all intents and purposes her life had ended that night almost as surely as Heather's had. The only difference was that Emily was still breathing. Few nights passed that she didn't lie in bed and wonder why that continued to be. Or what it was that Heather was supposed to have told her that night. There's something we have to talk about when you get back... something really important.
Emily glanced across the expanse of bleak headstones. The man who had robbed her of so much hadn't moved. He still stood like a statue next to his mother's grave. He hadn't knelt down
Megan piped up, "Heather was my friend. Emily, too. If she said he was guilty, then he was guilty." That was about as close as Megan came to dissing anyone, even a convicted killer.
The others punctuated her pronouncement with a litany of agreeable sounds and pacifying remarks.
As the high school's cheerleading coach, Justine had known both Heather and Emily well, as she did the rest of those present, excluding Jean of course. Might as well have her say. "Clint Austin killed Heather Baker in cold blood," Justine said, with a stern glance at Misty. Absolute silence fell over the shop as all waited in anticipation of what came next. "Emily was the one who sealed his fate at the trial." Justine looked from one expectant face to the other. "You all know she hasn't been the same since. Considering the lack of real evidence, without her testimony I imagine he would've gotten off scot-free."
Megan's eyes rounded with fear. "You don't think that's why he's back, do you? To hurt Emily?"
"No," Cathy rebutted. "Mike and Ray are all over this. Every cop on the force has orders to keep a close eye on Clint Austin. He's not going to get a chance to hurt anyone."
All eyes shifted back to Justine for her take on Cathy's argument. Justine turned her palms heavenward and offered a simple truth: "I don't know why Clint Austin is back. But if I were Emily Wallace, I'd be scared to death."
CHAPTER FOUR
Cedar Hill Cemetery
6:00 p.m.
Emily followed him.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to get the information on parole violations and the consequences. But keeping up with Austin's every move had to start now. He'd driven around for over an hour. She was pretty sure he'd recognized that he was being followed, but he made no attempt to lose her or to confront her. He just kept driving. Eventually he returned to town, visited Donna's Floral Shop, and then came here.
To the cemetery.
Emily hadn't anticipated that move. Only people who had hearts cared enough to visit the graves of their lost loved ones. Austin had no heart.
Still, he'd tracked down his mother's grave, laid the flowers he'd purchased on the headstone, and been standing there ever since. For about half an hour now.
Emily had eventually gotten out of her car. After wandering aimlessly, keeping one eye on him, she'd ended up at Heather's grave. The shiny black granite headstone displayed an inset cameo of Heather's senior picture. They'd gone for their portrait sittings just one week before the murder.
Emily dropped down to her knees and traced the picture of her friend. She missed her so much. There were so many things they were supposed to have done together. Like go off to Auburn for college as roommates. When wedding days came they would have been each other's maid and matron of honor. Godmothers to each other's children. Maybe even neighbors. Their whole lives had been plotted out with years of late-night talks and afternoons spent daydreaming.
Heather hadn't gotten to do any of those things, and neither had Emily. She had managed to muddle through two years at a small business school in Birmingham between lapses into depression, one major breakdown, and a couple of trial drug therapies. Eventually she'd gotten a job and ended up in charge of the files department at a research facility.
Things pretty much began and ended there.
Nothing had turned out anything like she'd planned. For all intents and purposes her life had ended that night almost as surely as Heather's had. The only difference was that Emily was still breathing. Few nights passed that she didn't lie in bed and wonder why that continued to be. Or what it was that Heather was supposed to have told her that night. There's something we have to talk about when you get back... something really important.
Emily glanced across the expanse of bleak headstones. The man who had robbed her of so much hadn't moved. He still stood like a statue next to his mother's grave. He hadn't knelt down
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